The Queen's Guard

Chapter 3

Ryder blinked, glancing around to make sure she was talking to him. "Excuse me, Your Majesty?"

Her expression didn't change from its dreamy expression. "A rat. There is a rat in my soup."

Ryder dared to take a step forward and leaned to the side to peer at the bowl in front of her. Shallow, filled with a light broth that didn't have a single lump in it. No vegetables, no meat, and certainly no rats.

"There aren't any rats in your soup, Your Majesty." His eyes flitted to Lady Bevile, then back to the queen. The smile slowly drooped from her features, and she looked at her bowl again. When she turned around again, she was frowning. Her eyes looked fragmented, like shards of a stained glass window.

"Are you sure? I'm certain I saw a rat. A rat mother." She picked up her spoon and swirled it recklessly through the liquid, splashing broth on her dress. "Here to lay its rat babies in my food." She grinned at him. "If I eat rat eggs, then I will have rat babies in my stomach."

Ryder blinked down at her again. She's crazy, He thought, astonished, before clearing his throat quietly. "I'm—I'm positive there aren't any rats in your soup, Your Majesty. Or rat...babies."

"No? What about rat eggs?"

"Erm...rats don't lay eggs, Your Majesty."

Her light blue eyes lit up with excitement, and she dropped the spoon and clapped. "Oh, good. I was afraid I'd have to mother a host of rat babies. Then they would rule the kingdom after I died. Do you like rats, sir?"

Ryder glanced to the sides as surreptitiously as he could, hoping the queen's guard could relieve him from this awkward conversion. But—there wasn't a guard for her.

Seventeen high guards, for the seventeen lords, ladies, and queen regent. Several normal guards, but not one for the queen herself. What the hell?

He blinked down at the queen. "Uh, no, Your Majesty. I don't like rats."

"Hmm." She tapped her fingers against the table like she was nervous. "I don't much like rats, either. I prefer mice. They don't lay eggs."

"Neither do rats, Your Majesty."

"Oh, that's right." She grinned again. "I'd forgotten. My apologies, good sir. I forget things sometimes, did you know that? Sometimes I forget where I am. Or what day it is. Sometimes I forget my name. Once I thought I was called Gerard, and the servants had to spend all day convincing me that I was the queen." She frowned. "That was unfortunate. I liked being Gerard."

Dear gods. The Queen of Trilea was completely and utterly mad. No wonder Clarisse ruled in her stead—the woman in front of him was too backwards to know what was going on in the kingdom.

She prattled on about being Gerard for a day as Ryder studied the room, then her. The banquet hall was filled with lords and ladies of all ranks, plus servants and guards. Yet not one person was looking at their queen—not one person cared what she was doing.

If he remembered right, she was young—only 19 years old, two years younger than him. Someone so young had no right to be this mad.

He checked on Lady Bevile again—now on to the topic of her lazy husband—and looked back down at the queen.

"There's a city outside the glass," She said suddenly, interrupting herself about Gerard. "Did you know that? A whole city, filled with people and spices and rats. Not rat eggs, though—rats don't lay eggs, did you hear?"

He swallowed uncomfortably. "You mean Amidia?"

Her eyes lit up again with her smile. "Amidia. Yes, that's my city. Do you like Amidia?"

"I haven't seen a lot of it," he replied carefully. "I only passed through when I came here."

"Oh, you've got to see it. I hear it's wonderful."

"Don't you—don't you go into the city?"

The smile stayed on her face, although the light in her eyes dimmed. "My dear cousin says its bad for my health—I'm not allowed to leave the palace."

Ryder glanced at Clarisse, who was tonight clad in a slinky orange dress that barely covered her cleavage. She was swirling a glass of wine in her hand and whispering something in the ear of a lord.

"I suppose she knows best," Ryder replied to the queen. "If she's queen regent."

The smile vanished completely. "I suppose she does. I suppose...I suppose she knows everything about rat eggs, too." The queen dropped her napkin on her bowl of soup and stood. "I'm going to retire," She said to Ryder. "If anyone asks—but don't worry." A quiet smile. "They won't wonder where I've gone."

Without another word, she flitted down the steps and across the back of the banquet hall, unseen by everyone in the room.

Ryder couldn't help but look back at the napkin, now soaked with broth, in the queen's forgotten bowl. It looked like a rat.

Things have finally started happening, yay! Thanks all for reading!!