61. Keelan

Chapter 61

Keelan

L iam grabbed Seth by the shoulders, spun him around and straightened the clasp on his cloak. The silver buckle fashioned in the shape of a maple leaf nearly leaped off the deep emerald of his doublet.

“Will you two knock it off?” I said, biting back a laugh at how many times one or the other of the pair had fiddled with clothing or buttons or clasps. It made sense that Seth might feel a bit out of place in his courtly attire. He claimed it was the first time he’d worn anything other than his Children’s robes in years. The fabric likely made the skin of his neck itch.

My hand moved to loosen my own annoying collar at the thought.

Liam peered over Seth’s shoulder at me. “You might be bedding Her Majesty, but we lowly commoners are entering the royal presence for the first time. Just look at those doors. They shine brighter than the sunrise over the ocean.”

I glanced at the doors I’d walked through a hundred times and realized they did, indeed, reflect almost as clearly as a mirror.

“Liam, relax,” I said, more amused than annoyed.

“That’s easy for you to say. You are a famous Guardsman used to swimming in deep ponds. We’re just—”

The sudden appearance of a royal page stilled Liam’s tongue. The boy offered a precise quarter bow, then locked eyes with me. “Lieutenant Rea, Her Majesty will receive your guests now.”

I chuckled as Liam’s sharp intake nearly cracked the page’s perfect shell.

When the doors swung open, the page stepped in and announced, “Lieutenant of the Guard of the Melucian Empire, Keelan Rea, and his guests, Liam, son of Hershel, of Oliver, and Seth, a Priest of the Order of the One.”

“Former Priest,” Seth corrected.

“Former Priest,” the page bellowed.

Members of the Privy Council and minor nobles lined either side of the grand aisle. Jess sat on her throne, her most elaborate crown gleaming in the sunlight that streamed through windows whose curtains had been tied back. Prisms danced from large diamonds, scattering their colorful hues throughout the chamber.

Her face was stone, her mouth a thin, unreadable line.

I had to suppress a grin as Liam swallowed hard behind me as I led us forward.

We stopped at the first inlaid mark, a golden diamond with rays radiating in every direction.

I bowed, then continued five strides to the second mark. No one gasped or cried out. I took that as a sign my companions properly offered their respects.

When the three of us stood lined up before the throne, Jess, her back perfectly straight and chin high, asked, “Guardsman Rea, for what purpose do you seek audience?”

I bowed again, as was the custom.

“Your Majesty, if it pleases the Queen, I should like to introduce her to citizens of Oliver who assisted with my investigation, one of which, I believe, will be of special interest to Her Majesty.”

Jess’s mouth twitched just enough for me to see. She’d spent most of the morning teasing me about taking on a more formal role in today’s proceedings, accusing me of becoming a “proper gentleman” rather than a “rogue Melucian.”

I failed to find the humor.

That only encouraged her.

“Proceed,” she ordered.

I stepped aside and allowed the pair to take my place on the second diamond mark.

Seth bowed. Liam forgot and received an elbow in the ribs.

Again, Jess bit back a grin.

“Your Majesty,” Liam squeaked. “Thank you for seeing us . . . I mean, receiving us.”

“You are Liam, the innkeeper’s son? You witnessed one of the attacks?” Jess asked.

“Yes, Majesty.”

“And your father was killed in another attack?”

Liam’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, Majesty.”

“The Crown is saddened by your loss.”

Liam looked up, his eyes wide. “Thank you . . . Majesty.”

“And you”—Jess turned to Seth—“are the Priest?”

“I was, Your Majesty.”

One of Jess’s brows peaked. “We were unaware of the Children allowing their Priests to, how would you say it, leave the Order?”

Seth hesitated, his eyes darting toward me, before he replied, “When the One—the false One, I should say—fell, I felt no Compulsion to remain within the Order. Liam helped me see that I could continue my good works without donning a robe or bending a knee.”

Jess leaned forward, her eyes narrowed.

“To the Order,” Seth hurriedly explained. “I bend the knee to the Crown, Majesty. Very much.”

Seth dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the stone floor.

“None of that,” Jess snapped. “Rise, and receive your sentence.”

Seth’s head snapped up, and Liam stumbled backward.

“Sentence?” Seth croaked.

Jess stood and took a step forward, positioning herself on the top step so she loomed over us.

“Yes, your sentence. Did you think the Crown would allow your actions to go . . . unaddressed?”

“But . . . Majesty. . . I thought—”

“Silence!” Her voice was a lash.

Seth stood on shaky legs.

“We have heard of your preachings, your works, your guidance and offerings to the people of Oliver. Guardsman Rea returned with quite the tale of how you wore your robes and stood before our people in the name of your false prophet.”

Sweat beaded across Seth’s forehead as Liam struggled to stand still.

“We are well aware of who and what you are.” Jess moved one step down, then another, until she stood eye level with Seth. “We also know what you are not.”

Confusion mingled with frayed nerves as Seth’s gaze rose to meet his Queen’s.

“We believe your works in Oliver to be sincere, offered freely from a desire to help uplift our people. Our Constables, Councilors, and . . . others . . . reported as much.”

“I . . . I do what I can, Majesty.”

“And the Crown thanks you for that.” Jess’s tone softened. “The folly of my mother’s war has left too many in our Kingdom wanting. We need men of conscience and good will to minister to them. We need those around us, leaders, for whom the greater good outweighs their own desires. We need good men, Seth.”

Using his name staggered the former Priest as he gaped at the Queen.

“I am at Your Majesty’s service,” came out breathless.

Jess smiled, and her voice rose once more, taking on the regal tone I knew radiated from an iron backbone.

“Seth, no longer of the Order, for the service you have provided to our people, and for those words and deeds yet spoken and performed, the Crown names you Minister of Benevolence. From this day forth, your works shall be those of the Crown.”

Seth’s mouth opened, but no words flowed.

He blinked.

He stared.

After a pregnant moment, Jess took another step forward so she stood close enough to whisper. “Most people express gratitude or offer acceptance of a royal appointment. Some bow again or kiss our hand. You should choose one of those.”

I spat a laugh, earning sharply narrowed eyes from Jess.

Seth dropped to one knee.

His voice was filled with awe as he spoke. “Your Majesty, I . . . I have no words. You honor me beyond any imagining.”

Jess waited.

Seth remained kneeling, head cowed.

The silence stretched.

She glanced at me, then back to Seth.

I leaned over and whispered, “You still haven’t given her an answer.”

Seth’s head snapped up. “It would be the honor of my life to serve Her Majesty.”

On some unspoken cue, a page appeared with Jess’s royal sword on a velvet pillow. She raised it high, then set it on one of Seth’s shoulders, then the other, then back again.

“We create you Lord Caritas, Minister of Benevolence. Rise, Sir Caritas, Minister of Benevolence. Greet your Queen.”

As Seth stood on unsteady legs, Jess began to applaud. The assembled nobles and Councilors followed suit, each trying to outdo the others in offering their support for the realm’s newest Minister.

Liam beamed.

I’d almost forgotten him as he stood behind Seth, so engrossed was I with the game Jess played, teasing and taunting the poor man before offering him a royal appointment.

Relief and bewilderment brightened Liam’s eyes, and my heart swelled as I watched Seth turn and meet his gaze for the first time since Jess’s decree. What flowed between them was pure joy and unbounded love I’d seen too rarely over the past year.

It reminded me of how Declan and Ayden looked at each other.

A swelled heart ached for my brother. I missed him and his puffy-headed mischief.

Then Jess caught my eye. She smiled, and tiny lines bunched about her eyes as she did.

It felt as though the sun had descended to brighten the chamber.

The Councilors and nobles faded away.

Liam and Seth vanished.

There was only Jess.

My mouth grew dry, my tongue thick.

She winked, then an expression . . . something sneaky—no, impish—crossed her face.

“Silence!” she commanded, and the room stilled once more. “How thoughtless of us. There is one final matter before the Crown, a matter of the gravest import.”

Hushed tones echoed through the audience hall as nobles whispered speculation and rumor. The silly men and women had no idea how to read their Queen’s mind.

She offered me the slightest smile, then turned to face Liam. We had discussed her plans for Seth, but she shared nothing of an edict for Liam.

“Master Liam, son of Hershel, approach.”

Liam looked to Seth, then me. His gaze darted so quickly I thought he might try to bolt through the bronze doors.

Instead, the quaking boy took a step forward and lowered himself to one knee.

“Majesty?”

“Master Liam, the Crown has learned of your . . . relationship . . . with our Minister.” Her stare hardened. “It is most unseemly for one of his new station.”

I swallowed almost as hard as Seth in that moment.

Then Jess tossed protocol to the wind, reaching down to grip Liam by his shoulders and lift him up to face her.

“We offer our royal blessing on your marriage, should you and the Minister wish to unite.”

For the hundredth time that morning, my heart seized as I looked at Jess. In that moment, I knew she was the most brilliant, kind, amazing woman the Spirits ever allowed to walk the land.

And I was jealous of the blessing she had just bestowed on others.