The Queen's Mage

Chapter 118: The Queen’s Bias

A knock sounded at the outer door.

Serali’s entire body went still.

Not fear.

Something else.

Mara looked at her.

Everly brightened. “Maybe it is Mother.”

“It is not,” Serali said immediately.

The door opened.

It was Allandra.

Of course it was Allandra.

She stood just inside the doorway in a dark green day gown, one hand still on the latch, gaze moving first to Everly, then Mara, then Lessa, then Serali.

And stopped.

The bond warmed.

Not loudly.

Not sharply.

But like sunlight finding glass.

Serali looked down at the plum gown as if it had personally betrayed her.

Everly launched herself from the chair. “Mother! You came for judging.”

Allandra’s eyes did not leave Serali for one dangerous second.

Then she blinked and looked at her daughter. “I came because I was told there were honey biscuits.”

Serali’s gaze snapped to Mara.

Mara looked serene.

Traitor.

Everly grabbed Allandra’s hand and pulled her toward the judge chair. “You have to help.”

Allandra allowed herself to be dragged, though her eyes betrayed her by returning to Serali halfway there.

Serali heard herself say, “This was not planned.”

Allandra’s mouth curved faintly. “No?”

“No.”

Mara coughed.

Serali turned. “Do not.”

“I have said nothing.”

“You summoned her.”

“I mentioned to Lessa that the gowns had arrived.”

Lessa looked apologetic and not sorry.

Everly climbed back into the chair and patted the arm. “Mother can sit beside me.”

“There is not room,” Allandra said.

“You can stand. Queens stand.”

“Yes,” Allandra said gravely. “We are trained for it.”

Serali crossed her arms, then realized the plum gown made the motion look dramatic and uncrossed them.

Allandra noticed.

Of course.

The corner of her mouth moved.

Serali narrowed her eyes. “Do not.”

“I said nothing.”

“You are looking.”

“I was invited to judge.”

“By a child.”

“A princess.”

“Same danger.”

Allandra’s gaze softened in a way that made the gown, the room, and possibly the entire palace unsafe.

Everly held up the score card. “This one is important plum. It can run and Lord Merrow should be a little afraid.”

Allandra considered Serali with exaggerated seriousness.

Serali’s pulse did something unnecessary.

“I agree,” Allandra said.

“With which part?”

“All.”

Serali’s face heated. “You are biased.”

“Yes.”

The room went still for half a breath.

Allandra realized what she had said.

Mara looked down at the score cards with saintly discretion.

Lessa suddenly became very interested in the snack basket.

Everly, mercifully, accepted the answer at face value. “Because she is your Royal Mage.”

Allandra recovered. “Yes.”

Serali looked at her.

The bond held steady.

Not shouting.

Settled.

The third item was not, technically, part of the agreement.

Mara unfolded a charcoal over-robe lined in pale gray.

Serali stared.

"That is not a dress."

"No," Mara agreed.

"It is also not necessary."

"It was included for fit."

"It was included because Mistress Callenne enjoys causing trouble."

"Probably."

Everly clapped.

"Cloak!"

"It is not a cloak."

"It is cloak-shaped."

Serali decided this argument was unwinnable.

She slipped the over-robe over the plum gown.

The charcoal softened its severity, turning it from formal to quietly practical.

When she stepped back into the room, Everly immediately reached for the cuff.

"May I?"

"You may."

Everly folded it back.

Tiny silver stars lined the inside where only Serali would normally see them.

"Secret stars."

"Yes," Mara said.

"For Serali."

Everly's smile grew.

"So she knows they're there even when nobody else can."

The room became unexpectedly quiet.

Allandra looked at Serali.

Not the robe.

Serali.

There was something in her expression that settled low beneath Serali's ribs.

Pride.

Perhaps.

Or simply happiness.

It was equally dangerous.

"Judge," Serali said quickly.

Before anyone became more sentimental.

Everly climbed back into the chair.

She looked at the robe for only a moment before declaring,

"Lord Merrow should never see this one."

Serali blinked.

"Why?"

"Because the stars are secret."

Mara wrote it down.

Everly looked at the cards, then at all three garments laid out or worn, then delivered her final judgment with the gravity of a queen.

“Nice night wins.”

Serali was still wearing the plum gown and charcoal robe. “The blue one?”

“Yes.”

“You have not seen it with your Mother here.” Mara pointed out.

Everly looked at her as if this was irrelevant. “It still wins.”

Allandra glanced toward the smoke-blue gown draped over the screen.

“May I see it?” she asked.

Serali’s heart stopped being reasonable.

Everly gasped. “Yes!”

“No,” Serali said.

Everly turned. “But Mother has to judge.”

“She does not.”

“She missed it.”

“She can imagine it.”

Allandra’s voice was quiet, careful, and devastating. “Only if you wish to show me.”

The room changed.

Not in a way Everly could understand.

In a way Mara did.

In a way Serali felt under her ribs.

Only if you wish.

The choice returned to Serali.

Not a command.

Not a performance.

A door.

She looked at the smoke-blue gown.

Nice night.

Soft night.

Stars moving when she turned.

She thought of the first time Allandra had seen her nearly naked, wounded and half-conscious and stripped of choice. She thought of Callenne asking may I before measuring her wrist. She thought of Allandra in her room, saying, I want you as you are.

This was not the same.

This was only a dress.

Which meant, of course, that it was not only a dress at all.

Serali looked back at Allandra.

“You may,” she said.

Allandra’s composure suffered visibly.

Mara turned toward the sketches with great speed.

Lessa smiled into the basket.

Everly clapped because she had won and understood none of the battlefield.

Serali changed behind the screen again, hands a little less steady this time. Mara helped with the shoulder fastening and said nothing, which was exactly correct.

When Serali emerged in the smoke-blue gown, the room went quiet.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Everly sat forward, pleased to be proven right.

Allandra did not speak.

That was answer enough.

Serali walked to the hearth because that was the rule. She could feel the stars at her cuffs. She could feel the gown moving around her legs. She could feel Allandra watching, not as queen, not as judge, not as captor, not as anyone with claim.

As someone invited.

At the hearth, Serali turned.

Not a twirl.

Almost.

The hem caught the firelight. Silver stars shifted like small, controlled magic.

Allandra’s face softened so completely that Serali had to look away.

Everly whispered, “See?”

Allandra’s voice was low. “I do.”

The bond warmed.

Serali held herself still and let it.

Everly picked up the score card and drew one enormous star on it.

“Winner,” she announced.

Mara wrote: Winner. Nice night. Mother agrees.

Serali looked at the note. “That is excessive.”

“It is accurate,” Mara said.

Allandra did not deny it.

The fashion show concluded with honey biscuits, one pear slice rejected by Everly for being “too wet,” and a very formal presentation of the judging cards to Serali for preservation in the correspondence box.

“No,” Serali said.

Everly looked wounded. “They are records.”

“They are evidence of a crime.”

Mara opened the velvet box.

Serali stared at her. “You are all traitors.”

“Yes,” Mara said pleasantly.

The cards went into the box.

PRETTY. IMPORTANT. TWIRL. CAN RUN. MOTHER WILL LIKE. LORD MERROW SHOULD BE AFRAID.

Serali watched them settle beside the spider card, the pear, the frog, the early apology for being hurt and locked.

The box was getting full.

That should have frightened her.

It did.

Less than before.

Everly hugged her goodbye, briefly by Everly’s definition, which had expanded again. Lessa gathered the basket. Mara collected pins and tissue. Allandra remained near the door, waiting until the child had skipped into the hall before looking back at Serali.

Serali still wore the smoke-blue gown.

Allandra’s gaze moved over the stars at her cuffs, then returned to her face.

“Nice night,” she said softly.

Serali crossed her arms. “Do not start.”

“I would not dare.”

“You would.”

“I might.”

Serali looked toward the velvet box. “Your daughter is a menace.”

“Yes.”

“So is Mara.”

“Yes.”

“So is Callenne.”

“Almost certainly.”

“And you.”

Allandra’s mouth curved. “Me?”

“You came for honey biscuits.”

“I did.”

“You ate none.”

Allandra looked at the basket.

Then back at Serali.

“No,” she said.

The honesty in it warmed the room.

Serali rolled her eyes because it was either that or smile too plainly.

Allandra’s gaze dropped to the gown again, then lifted. “It suits you.”

Serali’s fingers brushed the silver stars.

“I know,” she said, and immediately felt startled by her own answer.

Allandra’s expression changed.

Pleased.

Proud.

A little undone.

Serali looked away, face warm. “Do not make it important.”

“Of course not.”

“You are making it important silently.”

“Yes.”

Mara, from the study, said, “Tea?”

Serali closed her eyes. “Mara.”

Allandra laughed softly.

The sound moved through the bond like sunlight through blue glass.

Serali stood in her nice-night dress, surrounded by judging cards, honey crumbs, and people who kept making room for her without asking permission from the parts of her that were afraid.

It was ridiculous.

It was excessive.

It was courtly nonsense.

It was, unfortunately, hers.

Chapter 119: For Appearances

Mara set the tea tray on the low table before the hearth.

"There," she said with quiet satisfaction. "I thought everyone might require fortification after today's proceedings."

"There were no proceedings," Serali said.

Mara glanced toward the velvet box where the judging cards now rested.

"There are written records."

"Forged records."

"Meticulously documented forged records."

Allandra looked toward the box.

"Should I be concerned that my daughter has established a judiciary?"

"It is much too late for concern," Serali said. "The institution already exists."

"I suspected as much."

Mara poured the tea.

One cup for Serali.

One for Allandra.

One for herself.

Serali accepted hers with a grateful sigh.

"I was evaluated on my ability to run."

"And?" Allandra asked.

"I passed."

"I never doubted it."

Serali looked at her over the rim of her cup.

"You are impossible."

"I've heard that before."

"Hagen?"

"He keeps statistics."

"I somehow believe that."

For a little while, the room settled into companionable quiet.

The fire crackled.

Steam curled from the teacups.

Mara folded the tissue paper back into the cedar box with the meticulous care of someone restoring a sacred text.

Serali watched her.

"You are putting that away remarkably slowly."

"I wouldn't dream of rushing."

"You are waiting."

"For what?"

"An opportunity."

Mara smiled faintly.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"You are a terrible liar."

"I know."

She folded another corner of tissue.

Allandra looked toward Serali.

"I should apologize."

Serali blinked.

"For what?"

"I was looking."

"...I noticed."

"I was trying not to."

"You failed."

"I did."

Allandra lowered her eyes briefly to her tea before looking back.

"You looked beautiful."

Serali opened her mouth.

Closed it again.

"...That was not an apology."

"No."

"It was suspiciously the opposite."

"I may have misunderstood the assignment."

Serali looked down into her cup to hide the warmth creeping into her face.

"You stared."

"I did."

"Rather openly."

"I was attempting subtlety."

"You should continue practicing."

"I intend to."

Mara, entirely unhelpfully, hid a smile behind her teacup.

Serali decided to change the subject before everyone became unbearable.

"Has Everly done this before?"

Allandra considered.

"...Not exactly."

"'Not exactly' is an alarming answer."

"Last winter she attempted to reorganize the council seating."

"...Why?"

"She believed Lord Merrow and Lady Veryya would argue less if they sat farther apart."

Serali stared.

"...Did it work?"

"No."

"What happened?"

"They argued across the table instead."

Serali laughed.

A genuine laugh this time.

"And Everly?"

"She declared the experiment inconclusive."

"I admire her commitment to evidence."

"So does Veryya."

"I suspect Lady Veryya encouraged it."

"I suspect she supplied paper."

Serali shook her head.

"Your household is a menace."

"Yes."

"I am beginning to understand that this is simply how you all live."

"It does explain certain things."

Serali looked toward the folded gowns.

"I thought I would hate them."

The words came quietly enough that even she looked faintly surprised to hear them.

Allandra's attention shifted immediately.

"The gowns?"

"I expected to feel..."

Serali searched for the word.

"...decorated."

Like a doll.

Like a political statement.

Like someone else's idea of a princess.

Instead...

"They felt like me."

Silence settled around the confession.

Allandra didn't rush to answer.

She simply let Serali have it.

"I was very glad to see that."

Serali's fingers found the edge of her sleeve.

"I surprised myself."

"You did."

"When you said they suited me..."

She smiled faintly. "...I believed you."

Allandra's expression softened. "I noticed something else."

"What?"

"You said, 'I know.'"

Serali laughed once under her breath. "I did."

"You sounded surprised."

"I was."

Another pause.

"I think..." Serali said slowly, "...I finally believed it."

The bond warmed between them.

Quietly.

Not demanding.

Simply answering something that had finally been spoken aloud.

Mara carefully folded the final sheet of tissue paper.

"Oh."

She looked toward the study as though only just remembering something.

"I should return Mistress Callenne's notes before I forget which alterations belong to which gown."

Serali blinked. "They're labeled."

"They are."

"They're color-coded."

"They are."

"You have an excellent memory."

"I do."

"...Mara."

"I shouldn't be long."

She lifted the cedar box.

Paused just long enough to ensure neither of them could pretend this departure was accidental.

"I'm sure the two of you can survive a few minutes without supervision."

Then she disappeared into the study.

The hidden servant's door clicked softly shut behind her.

Silence settled over the room once more.

Serali looked into her tea.

"She believes she's subtle."

"No," Allandra said.

"No?"

"I don't believe she does."

That earned another laugh from Serali.

One that came easily now.

Allandra watched it with quiet satisfaction.

"You laugh more."

Serali looked up.

"...Do I?"

"Yes."

"I hadn't noticed."

"I had."

Another comfortable silence settled between them.

Eventually, Allandra set down her empty cup.

"I should go."

Serali nodded automatically.

"Yes."

Neither of them moved.

The fire shifted softly in the grate.

Outside, somewhere in the palace, a bell marked the changing of the evening watch.

Allandra drew a slow breath. "...I don't particularly want to."

Serali looked up.

Allandra laughed softly at herself.

"Lia has been encouraging me to acknowledge when I want things instead of disguising them as responsibilities."

"That sounds like Lia."

"She used considerably more words."

"I imagine she did."

Allandra met Serali's eyes. "I'd like to stay."

No explanation.

No excuse.

Simply the truth.

Serali felt something in her chest loosen. "You may."

Relief flickered across Allandra's face before she could hide it. "Thank you."

Then she glanced toward the public door.

"...Unfortunately, I should still leave."

Serali frowned. "What?"

"For appearances."

Understanding dawned.

"...Right."

Allandra stood.

She crossed the room and paused with one hand on the latch.

"I won't be long."

Then she was gone.

The outer door closed behind her.

Serali remained standing for a moment after the outer door closed.

"Ridiculous," she murmured.

She looked down at the smoke-blue gown.

Callenne had been entirely too successful.

Reluctantly, she changed into one of her older dresses, the violet one Mara always claimed brought out her eyes and which, entirely by coincidence, Allandra had once looked at for a fraction too long.

Serali refused to examine that coincidence further.

She folded the smoke-blue gown carefully over the screen, smoothing the sleeves with more attention than was strictly necessary.

The room had grown quieter.

The sort of quiet that settled after visitors left and evening began collecting in the corners.

Serali reclaimed her tea and wandered into the study.

Marielle had apparently decided that yesterday's explanation of the revised northern wall arrays had been insufficient.

A fresh diagram waited on the desk.

It contained six different colors of ink.

Three cross-sections.

Two arrows that pointed at one another.

And, for reasons known only to Marielle, a tiny note in the margin that simply read:

"This part is obvious."

Serali stared at it.

"...It is not."

She tried.

She genuinely tried.

She followed one line to another, then another, until she realized she'd been looking at the same corner of the page for several minutes without understanding a single new thing.

Her attention drifted toward the hidden servant's door.

She frowned at herself.

Ridiculous.

She looked back at the diagram.

The arrows had not become more helpful.

Eventually she surrendered, setting the parchment aside in favor of watching the fire for a while.

By the time three quiet knocks came from the concealed passage, twilight had settled over the palace.

Not the public door.

The hidden one.

A smile appeared before she had quite decided to permit it.

She crossed the room and opened the panel.

Allandra stood on the other side, one hand still braced against the stone wall. Her hair had escaped its careful arrangement in two places. A faint flush colored her cheeks.

She was breathing just a little harder than normal.

Serali looked at her.

Then down the corridor stretching away behind her.

Then back again.

"...Did you run?"

Allandra blinked.

"I walked."

"You are out of breath."

"It is a surprisingly long route."

"You hurried."

"I may have..."

Allandra considered whether honesty remained advisable. "...hurried a little."

"A little?"

"The servants' corridors involve more stairs than one expects."

Serali folded her arms. "The Queen of Avalusia sprinted through the back passages of her own palace."

"I did not sprint."

"You power-walked with intent."

"...Perhaps."

"So eager."

"I was being efficient."

"You were impatient."

Allandra's ears pinked.

Serali smiled. "There you are."

"There...?"

"I've been looking for the part where this embarrasses you."

"It was delayed."

"I see."

"I thought I was maintaining my dignity."

"You lost it somewhere around the second staircase."

Allandra laughed, the sound soft and entirely unqueenly. "I had hoped no one would notice."

"I noticed."

"I suspected you might."

Serali stepped back from the doorway. "You should come in."

Allandra looked up.

"You are certain?"

Serali's smile softened. "I have been waiting ten minutes while pretending to read one of Marielle's diagrams."

She gestured toward the abandoned parchment.

"I understood less of it than usual."

Allandra glanced toward the desk. "...That does sound serious."

"It was."

Allandra stepped inside.

The hidden door closed behind her with a quiet click.

This time, neither of them laughed immediately.

The silence that settled felt different from before.

Private.

Chosen.

And for the first time all afternoon, there was nowhere else either of them needed to be.