Cheating Royalty (Chasing Royalty #2)

7

A servant leads us back to our room. I try not to be too offended as the servant watches us as we step inside, even after we close the door behind us. I’m sure she’s only following Florentine’s orders.

Grace struggles to keep a smile off her face, “I think that went well.”

I groan and collapse on to my bed. I bury my head in the fluffed pillows and try to release the stress clinging to my muscles. “Not only did we find no information, but we were caught by two people. You really need to stop me from doing stupid things like that."

“You know you wouldn’t have listened to anything I would have said. At least now you know this isn’t like it was in the castle. You don’t know the servant shifts or who you can trust or where to hide. You also don’t know the consequences.”

“Florentine didn’t seem particularly mad. But, she certainly made it clear that we shouldn’t be found outside of our room again. You don’t think she would…she would lock us in here, would she? We did come here by choice and she said she was going to help us. She wouldn’t trap us here, when she supports us.”

Grace shrugs, “Unless there’s something more to her plan than just helping us. Like I said, it does seem like a lot of risks for her to take.”

“Should we leave?” I whisper, just in case there’s anyone monitoring us.

Grace sighs, “I don’t think we can. There are guards searching for us, remember? They are more of a threat than Florentine.”

I nod, “We may just be paranoid. After all, we can’t blame her for being mad at us for sneaking around. If I caught someone breaking into my study, I would be angry.”

“We will wait it out, but be prepared. We don’t know what to expect of her. She seems old and feeble, but if she plans to restore your position, she must have something on her side.”

Our conversation eventually fades out, and my eyelids begin to fall. It’s been two months since I’ve had an actual mattress. The pillow snuggles against my cheek, pulling me closer to sleep.

●◊●◊●

A knock echoes from the door, waking me from my sleep. The door swings open and a servant peeks her head inside, “Lady Florentine requests that you attend lunch with her in two minutes. A different maid will come by to take you down to the Dining Room.”

After we dismiss the servant, we begin preparing for lunch, as much as we can in two minutes. Grace combs through my hair with her fingers and twists it up into a bun. She does her own hair in less than ten seconds. She puts the scarves back over our heads, just in case we need to keep up our disguise. We aren’t sure what the servants or anyone else within this house might know. We straighten down our rags that barely qualify as dresses and wait for the servant to come.

I watch the clock on the wall. Within two minutes exactly another knock rings against our door. The servant escorts us down to the Dining Room.

When a pair of butlers opens the pair of grand doors, I struggle to keep my surprise off my face. From the décor covering the Dining Room, Florentine definitely has money to spare. Expensive rugs, foreign paintings, exotic sculptures. A large table sits proudly in the center of the room.

Florentine is already seated at the far end of the table. She stands and curtsies as we enter. Every petty rule of etiquette floods back into my memory as I curtsy in return and take my seat at the table. Grace hesitates for a second, before I motion for her to sit beside me.

Servants flurry by us, placing embroidered napkins on our laps, straightening silver goblets, pouring drinks. The first course appears and is set down with a flourish of the servants.

A simple dish for Florentine’s status, but enough to make my mouth water. Seared, fresh vegetables with perfect seasoning. It takes all my self control to not force everything into my mouth at once. I daintily spear a carrot and chew slowly.

Florentine smiles lightly at us, as if the threats of this morning never happened, “Are you content with your room? You may have to spend some time here, so I would want it to meet your standards.”

I pause for a moment to swallow my food and gather my composure before answering, “It’s lovely, absolutely lovely. Thank you for everything that you’ve given us. We are willing to pay rent for the length of our stay.” It is the polite and expected thing to say, but I can only hope that she doesn’t plan to make us pay. We came here with only a few coins in our pockets.

Florentine brushes it aside, “It is none of your concern. It’s my gift to you. Once you are queen, Admira, I’m sure that you’ll be able to find a way to repay me.”

Is that a hint as to what she really wants? Does she want to help me gain the position of queen so I can become her pawn?

“If I become queen, you will certainly be repaid. However, I don’t think you ever specified the exact plan regarding my regaining of power.”

The servants reappear from the kitchen. They clear away the plates of the first course and appear with a steaming second course.

Florentine says, “We will go over the details of the plan when the time is right. I’m afraid there’s too many people you don’t know, too many problems you are unaware of, too many places that aren’t in your knowledge for you to fully understand. Augustine and I will gradually teach you everything you need to know. Once you have all the needed knowledge, we will explain the plan.”

“How long will this take?” I try to keep my voice light, without suspicion.

“It is better not to rush important plans.”

“I would think we would want to attack as soon as possible, before Alexanne has time to organize her guards and plan for the possibilities of our strategies.”

“Or, we could wait and lure Alexanne into a feeling of false security. If she loses some of her paranoia, we will have a much better chance of succeeding.”

Florentine doesn’t know Alexanne as well as I do. Alexanne will never lose her paranoia, she’ll never let her guard down. Alexanne will always be plotting and expanding her strategies.

If we aren’t attacking Alexanne, she will certainly be attacking us, whether we realize it or not.

Florentine changes the topic as the servants bring out the third course, “Is there any room you would like to spend time in within my home? I’m afraid that I need to be aware of where you are at all times. I know it sounds a bit controlling, but guards could come to search this home any minute. It wouldn’t surprise me if they were already searching buildings and homes for you. I would like to know where you are so I could help you hide if it was necessary.”

I nod, “That’s understandable. It’s a small price to pay for my safety.” I’m not sure whether I believe her reasoning or not. If guards came to the house searching for us, I don’t know if Florentine would have a lot of time to hide me.

“Thank you for understanding. However, if there are certain rooms you would like to visit often, just tell me.”

I hesitate, then say, “There is actually one room, the library. I saw it when we first arrived. I’m afraid that I’ve missed having the freedom to read quite a bit since I left the castle.”

Florentine smiles, “That is perfectly understandable. I’m afraid I don’t know what I would do without the escape of books either. You can certainly visit my library at any time, just as long as a servant knows you are there.”

I thank here and we continue with mindless small talk, as course after course appears. I eat until I feel as though I will burst, and then I eat even more. After weeks of living off an empty stomach, the drowsiness of a full one is complete bliss.

After the servants clear away the dishes from the last course, Florentine dismisses us. I force Grace to come with me to the library, barely unable to contain my excitement. A servant guides us down the hall to the only room that Florentine has allowed us to be in, besides our own room.

The servant opens the humble pair of doors for us and I can barely keep the smile off my face as I hurry inside.

Bookshelf after bookshelf lines the walls. I run my hands over the spines, surveying the large room. Large windows dominate the outside wall, early afternoon rays falling across the books. Large chairs wait in the middle of the room, surrounded by sculptures and small tables. I grab a couple books at random and settle into the nearest chair. Grace wanders the room, browsing through the books and returning empty handed. Instead, she observes the random papers and open books sitting on the small tables.

I begin to lose myself in a book, when she says, “Admira, look at this.”

She sits down next to me with a torn piece of a letter. At least half of the paper is missing, and the large looping letters are indecipherable.

I frown, “There most likely isn’t anything important on there. It’s not important enough to be kept whole.”

Grace points to the last line of the letter. The bottom sentence is written in different handwriting, capital, slanted letters.

You know to keep this to yourself. They must not know of our true connection to the passed Queen.

Florentine’s scrawled signature dominates the bottom of the page.