Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 156907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
This had not yet occurred to me.
Then again, I did not think they would share such things openly with Tril, not to mention, I was drowning in all things queen.
“Yes, Silence, but…” Her head tipped to the side. “You are all right with that woman down there?”
I.
Was.
Not.
My husband was entertaining an old lover in his study.
And he’d “required” my presence in order to introduce me to her.
“I can trust Mars,” I said.
“Of course you can,” Tril agreed. “But, she’s trouble, my lovely. And I do not know if you know what that means. More, you are not getting on with King Mars very well in the now.”
I did not need that reminder…
In the now.
Or at all.
“I know I can trust Mars,” I returned.
And I felt I did know that.
There was the fact that he was not happy she insinuated Farah was above me.
However, other than that…
“You can, of course you can,” Tril said, squeezing my hands.
“So Tril, the Miet. And also, anything you can learn of the clans and tribes. Who are allies, who are not. Favorites of Mars. Those of Elpis. Anything. Everything.”
“Right, of course.” She regarded me closely. “But, my love, you can ask Mars these things.”
“It is good to know all, especially servant chatter.”
“Which means you do not intend to ask Mars these things, when it is he who knows them best, also when it is high time you two worked out whatever is coming between the both of you.”
“We will talk, I am certain,” I assured her.
“When?” she asked. “He has not slept in your bed in six days.”
I did not need that reminder either.
“Tril, I have things to do,” I replied.
Her hands held mine fast. “Silence, you have not been yourself these past—”
“Tril!” I snapped. “I have things,” I tore my hands from hers, “to do.”
She took a step back.
I was instantly contrite.
“Tril,” I whispered.
“Yes, you do. You are queen, after all,” she declared before she turned, lifted her skirts and raced up the stairs.
I closed my eyes tight.
A lyrical peel of feminine laughter drifted down the hall from the direction of my husband’s study.
I turned on my sandal and walked down the stairs.
“To my study,” I said to Angelo.
And as I led the way, sadly going in the direction of Mars’s, I thought, really.
Angelo was Elpis’s secretary.
There was no reason not to ask him what I should do.
I was Dellish. I was a new wife. A new queen. I would not magically know what to do when thrown into my role with utterly no guidance whatsoever.
And although I did not fancy becoming dependent on someone who was not close to me or a member of family, as my uncle did with Carrington with disastrous effects, it would have to do.
For now.
When we arrived, I did not look into my husband’s study.
I turned into mine and ordered, “Close the door.”
Angelo obliged.
And then he explained in a roundabout way why he had waited down the hall for me to come to him.
For in whispers, as if the woman had supernatural hearing (or Mars did), he told me about Ines, and indicated in a diplomatic way that I should proceed with her with great caution.
Well, there was one good thing about that.
At least I had learned the staff was willing to educate me.
“And do you remember when…?”
Balls and begorrah.
This woman had the best memory in the history of Triton.
I studied the stem of my wineglass which I was twisting with my fingers to and fro.
Piccola hung from a lock of my hair.
I heard Mars’s deep voice murmur something in response to whatever Ines was remembering now, for she had a great deal of memories that involved Mars.
Scores.
Scads.
I decided ten more minutes I would endure the torture of their reminiscences (or hers, for Mars had not said much), before sharing I had a busy day the next day, offering my goodnight and heading to my chambers.
“So, will you? Silence?”
Her voice coming at me for the first time of our long-finished dinner caught me by surprise, and I looked to her.
“I’m sorry?” I asked.
“Will you go to the orgies for Miet?”
I blinked at her.
“No,” Mars decreed.
Orgies?
Angelo had said nothing about orgies.
He had turned an alarming shade of red when I asked about the Miet, something which confused me for he then shared it was the celebration of the yield, that meaning of the crops, and went on to explain there was a good deal of food consumed and liquor imbibed.
But he’d breathed no word about orgies.
“Oh, that’s too bad. I’d hoped the two of you would be there,” she mumbled, looking as if she was pouting. She quickly brightened, but did it in a catty way, and then asked Mars, “Do you remember when—?”
“Ines,” Mars growled.
“What?” she queried with sham innocence.
“If you intend to speak of what I think you intend to speak of in front of my wife, I would reconsider,” he advised.