The Warden

Chapter 25

Another jolt of pain radiated from Charlan's wrist, as she maneuvered her teacup from her lips, forcing her to grit her teeth behind a polite smile.

"Are you absolutely certain that your wrist isn't still bothering you, Lady Telias?" asked Queen Brishwyn. "I could ask one of the court physicians to attend it if you would like?"

Both women sat across from each other, a delicate, flimsy table between them, its surface occupied with a handsome, silver tea service. Teacups, enthroned in thin delicate saucers, rested before each on the green embroidered tablecloth. Six soldiers from General Biligrim's detachment stood around the edges of the queen's small salon. Each carried an air-bow.

I've never taken tea before under armed guard, thought Charlan, sipping from her cup despite not relishing the flavor.

She took another sip and forced the liquid down her throat.

The queen's salon was another astounding example of Pre-Waning architecture in the school of Imposition. The floor was hexagonal, a polished sheet of white marble, inlaid with an intricate stag's head, its antlers branching out, all done in wispy silver lines. The walls rose up, columns in each of the corners, all bearing mage-stones, until they reached the ceiling. Unlike the floor, the roof did not extend over them in a flat plane, instead it receded further up, again domed, but made up of infinite geometric shapes fitted together. Each facet had a mirrored surface and its effect nearly made the mind seize. Hanging in the midst of this reflective barrage was a chandelier entirely sculpted from glass, its form of a weaving simplistic elegance. At its center, another mage-light shone, its radiance a soft azure, illuminating every part of the chandelier's glassy curves. The light that escaped ricocheted off the ceiling's many angles, lighting the room with a dazzling effulgence.

"That's quite all right, Your Majesty," Charlan said, her nose filled with the annoying scent of honey and chamomile. Somehow it brought Andsek to mind. "The thought is appreciated, but as I said before, we wights heal quickly. Besides, I hardly think your physician would want to come within a stone's throw of me." Her brow arched wryly.

Queen Brishwyn chuckled. "Yes, I'm afraid not everyone knows you like I do, but that will change with time."

Yes, that will change. Charlan concealed her smirk by taking another drink of tea.

"How's your tea?" asked the queen.

"Very good, Your Majesty," said Charlan, her expression the perfect mask of politeness.

"I don't very much care for tea either," said the queen, leaning in a bit conspiratorially. "Especially at this hour." She set her saucer back onto the table. "What do you say to something a wee bit stronger?" She winked and gestured for a servant to take the tea things away.

Face frozen passive, Charlan's insides tensed. I couldn't have been that easy to read.

The queen's smile had taken on the aspect of a naughty child sharing a secret. The servant deposited the tea service on a table along the wall opposite the door and retrieved a tray laden with two glasses and an earthen bottle. As soon as the servant laid the tray on the table, the queen waved her away, her eyes eagerly resting on the bottle. Taking it up, one hand went about its neck while the other uncorked its mouth. She held its opening just under her nose. Her eyes rolled back into her head before closing, as she savored the scent. Exhaling, she lowered it and extended her arm toward Charlan, offering her the bottle.

Air-bows clicked remindingly behind her as she accepted the vessel from the queen. Putting it beneath her nose as the queen had, Charlan drew in a little of the scent.

Mead, Charlan confirmed, faintly smiling. So, the queen has a proclivity for mead.

From the various notes wafting from the bottle, Charlan detected hints of blackberry underlying the fermented honey bouquet. Delicately balanced and subtly blended, Charlan did not mind this nearly as much as the earthy herb she had been sipping moments before.