“Ill-treated? Of course she wasn’t ill-treated,” the kidnapping queen said, her nose rather red from her recent bawling over the injustice of an army inside her chamber.
I looked up and over at her, remembering all those threats of being sent to the dungeon if I hadn’t entertained her proficiently, and then there was that horrible bedroom that had lacked a proper shower and toilet. I opened my mouth to say something about those things, but Timothy was busy lambasting the woman for having stolen me off the ship. He was doing such a super job, I decided that my quarrel with the kidnapper’s statement was only secondary.
Once Timothy ran down enough to take a breath, Queen Moragana interrupted. “I believe I told you to stay on that ship, Prince Cadarone, You were ordered to let me handle the situation.”
Oh, dear. That sounded serious. Had Timothy truly disobeyed a queen’s order? Would he get in trouble, maybe sent to that dungeon, the one I never actually saw?
Coming to his rescue, I dove into the conversation. “Queen Moragana, thank you, thank you for bringing my dear husband to me. I was feeling ill from his absence,” I said. “I barely slept a wink last night without his arms around me, and I haven’t eaten a thing since I saw him last. My heart has been crushed from his absence. I can’t thank you enough for . . .”
“Sh,” Timothy said as he kissed the ear he was whispering into. “You’ve made your point.”
Queen Moragana considered the two of us for a moment, then broke into laugher. “Obviously, you didn’t need that necklace, my dear. It seems that given an undisturbed moment or two together, the two of you will soon make me very happy indeed with . . .”
She didn’t explain that unfinished thought but turned to the kidnapping queen. “And you, Queen Beatrice. How dare you . . .” Again, Queen Moragana halted in the middle of her speech, then glanced about the hall where a large number of soldiers were still standing at attention, waiting for her orders.
“Some of you soldiers, go in search of sustenance in the kitchens,” Queen Moragana commanded. “The rest of you, head outside. Enough of this standing around gaping at the drama going on here. Be gone.”
I don’t understand how the sorting of who goes where happened, but in a swallow and a half, the room had emptied of most of the Fae in the striking red and blue Moragana colors. Only the three guards who belonged to Queen Beatrice, otherwise known as the Kidnap Queen, remained over in the corner. (Plus, of course, the men in charge of them and Queen Moragana’s personal guards. The Kidnap Queen didn’t seem to need anyone securing her. She’d turned into a sad-looking weeping willow tree, (Not really, although with Fae magic, I suppose that would have been possible.)
“Now where was I?” Queen Moragana continued. “Ah yes, I was deciding to forgive the prince for his disobedience and was about to chastise Beatrice, although what good that would do, I haven’t the foggiest since it is obvious that she needs senility treatments more than imprisonment.”
“Ben, come here,” Queen Moragana demanded, jumping off the track of that sequential thought.