Conquering the Queen by Ava Sinclair Page A

Windbourne, she was asking questions about Windbourne’s history and architecture. She already possessed a knowledge of the north that impressed not just her host, but a begrudging Cynric as well. It was clear she’d been studying the region.
    “I find new places fascinating,” she said with a convincing sweet enthusiasm, “especially when they become part of the realm.”
    “She is clever, is she not, Cynric?” Across from him, Lord Reginald smiled. Cynric inclined his head in the old lord’s direction. “Indeed she is.”
    The carriage had turned down a street so narrow that the merchant carts moved to alleys so the royal carriages could pass. Here, the stone buildings loomed, and women with small children rushed to run alongside the carriage, begging for coins.
    “Stop!” Lady Fleur raised her voice, much to the surprise of everyone but Cynric, who took note of her determined expression as she moved to exit the vehicle with her lady-in-waiting. He watched as Lady Fleur turned to the other woman, who passed her a large bag of coins. The entire procession of lords and ladies was forced to stop behind them; many heads poked from their carriage windows to see what was holding up progress, only to find the young, elegant noblewoman in a bright yellow gown handing out money as she questioned poor mothers as to the needs of their children.
    Smart , Cynric thought. And ambitious. He knew that it was not genuine concern that motivated Lady Fleur, but politics. By day’s end, every noble within the king’s earshot would be talking of how she’d reached out to the people, and how the people loved her.
    Cynric felt his eyes drawn to Lord Reginald, who was staring at him, and he realized then that this was not Lady Fleur’s plan alone. The king’s father grinned at Cynric, his expression satisfied.
    “It is soothing, is it not, Cynric, for the people to see a noblewoman treat them with grace after a long winter of ill use by a cold harridan?” Outside, a tiny girl with a dirty face and scraggly blond hair was pulling on Fleur’s fine dress. Fleur tried to step back, and when the child clung to her, she handed her a gold coin. Only Cynric noticed how the young woman’s expression changed in that instant. Revulsion replaced compassion as she turned her head away from the mother who’d pulled the child away, and she rapidly wiped her hands on a kerchief slipped to her by the lady-in-waiting.
    With the coins dispensed and Lady Breton and her companion rushing back, Cynric inclined his ear toward the window, his keen hearing catching snatches of conversation between the two as they mounted the steps of the carriage.
    “They touched me! I told you not to let the children touch me! When we get back, you shall draw a bath for me immediately! I’ll not be tainted by their filth!”
    “I’m sorry, my lady… so sorry…”
    But Lady Fleur’s expression had once again morphed into false concern as she retook her place in the carriage.
    “Those poor people,” she said. “So starved for affection and caring. How could their former queen have let them be so reduced?” She sighed. “It is hard to believe that a man such as King Xander could have ever loved someone so cold.”
    “Love is not always rational,” Lord Reginald said. “And sometimes we even cling to what is not in our best interests. It is the responsibility of those closest to us to work in our favor, even if it is without our consent, to shine the light of truth on the misguided.” He fixed his gaze on the advisor. “Those who would stand in the way of this light would find themselves in darkness.”
    Cynric recognized a threat when he heard it. Lord Reginald was urging the advisor to fall in line, to conspire with him against Xander once more. But while he merely nodded to Lord Reginald, Cynric had no plan to aid the king’s father in this task. He’d promised not to betray Xander again through subterfuge; he would keep that promise.
    For the first