The Fanged Crown: The Wilds Read Free Page B

a dozen to meet the Queen on the road before the fog set in. They haven’t returned.”
    “What about the southern and eastern gates?” Cardew asked.
    The soldier looked pained. “Unmanned, sir. The orders were
    to secure the ballast-doors and group in the north field.”
    “There’re only eight guards in the palace itself,” the dwarf reminded Cardew. “We should cancel dinner and set a guard on the guests.”
    That was the worst idea Cardew had heard all night. Even if Evonne was delayed, Captain Landon Bratherwit had already arrived and was, in fact, the man who had requested to see Cardew. There were rumors that the Captain was looking to fill a post in Darromar. Cardew had never met Bratherwit face-to-face before. And face-to-face was Cardew’s specialty. If he wanted to have any influence on the maneuverings between Evonne and her sister, Queen Anais, Cardew had to be awarded the Darromar post, not escorting Evonne’s son to lesser nobles’ estates in backwater provinces and seeing to overturned goat carts.
    “It is worth checking out,” Cardew said to the soldier, ignoring the dwarfs suspicious glance in his direction. “I’ll bring the guests to the Grand Library. We’ll keep it quiet until you get back.”
    The dwarf hesitated, obviously not sure what to make of Cardew’s sudden change of heart, but he followed the dripping soldier out of sight. There was no way Cardew was going to cloister such important people in the library or terrify the children with such nonsense. As Cardew headed down the corridor to the Griffon Wing where Captain Bratherwit and the other guests were lodged, his mind flitted away from the annoying dwarf and back to Evonne.
    In the four years her son had been his charge, she had barely cast her topaz-colored eyes in his direction. He had always believed that if he just had the chance to spend a relaxed evening in her company, she would find him as intriguing as he found her.
    A month before, Cardew had chaperoned Teague to the Masque of the Siren, a costume ball for children at Queen Anais’s palace. When he had brought the boy home, the
    doorjack told him that Evonne wanted to see him in her private study. His heart pounding, he had climbed the grand staircase and rapped lightly on the door.
    “Come in,” she said in her distinctively low voice. She was seated behind a desk carved from dark wood. Bookshelves filled with leather-bound tomes lined ther walls, and a fire burned brightly in the open fireplace. Cardew had never met a woman who had a study of her own, but then he’d never met a woman who’d lead a revolt against the throne either.
    “Lady Linden,” he said, bowing. “You requested me.”
    “Yes, Master Cardew,” she said, gesturing to the chairs in front of the desk. The cut of her black dress was casual, but she wore blue silk gloves that covered her slim arms up to her elbows. “Please sit.”
    “Thank you,” he said, choosing a chair covered in supple red leather directly across from her.
    “You escorted Teague to the palace?” she asked. She had been writing something on a scroll, which she rolled up and placed in a drawer. Evonne had a reputation as a powerful wizard, and as a man with a martial bent, Cardew had little use for the arcane arts. But Cardew never underestimated the potential of an intelligent woman. Under the right circumstances, self-confidence could be as pleasing in a lover as innocence. “How were the festivities?”
    Cardew hesitated. He felt an odd tension running between them. In the presence of another woman, he would have dismissed it as attraction and begun calculating the steps to get her into bed. But with Evonne, the standard formula was too prosaic. Besides, he wanted her to come to him.
    “Enjoyable,” he said carefully. “There were a few surprises, but most seemed satisfied with the affair.”
    She tipped her head to the side and scrutinized him openly. He could see her eyes travel over his face and down
    his