Queen Kono wanted perfection in work and looks; Callum was anything but a vision of perfection. He consistently wore black from the eyepatch over his left eye to his boots. The queen gave him jewels; he gave them back.
The people at court wondered how he survived.
He was good at his work.
Someone might say that he was a mere messenger. Ryson had heard it more than once ... but a reminder that he worked for the queen usually quieted that bunch. Very few had the nerve to ask where Callum delivered those messages.
The Queen's patronage was endorsement enough for his good work, and only fools would ask for more.
It seemed to Ryson, as he watched his younger cousin, that Callum chose his relentless black outfits for more than to look sinister. Twice, Ryson thought he had lost Callum, only to have him appear in some other shadows a few feet away.
The queen lingered and talked to minor clerks. Callum apparently cleared the room, scaring those who lingered in the shadows, except for Ryson.
Then, Callum disappeared between one clerk and the next. Ryson had hoped to follow and deliver questions for the Court Council, but now he had to watch for a second chance.
Wandering the dark, cold halls of Snow Rock Castle did not appeal to Ryson. He hated working for the Council, which had become a group of bad-tempered elders. They had sent for him the moment he entered the main door into this foreboding pile of rocks and snow. No matter how long he stayed away from Snow Rock, Ryson could never feel comfortable coming back home.
The Council was not helping in that matter.
Ryson hated this assignment. Someone on the council mistrusted Callum or the queen -- or both. They wanted information that the queen didn't want them to have
They sent --
A small, very sharp blade settled across his neck. Ryson stopped breathing and moving. This was the time to think and listen.
Two people. He hadn't expected that since the second moved almost as silently as the first. Ryson caught a hint of a special scent. No, it could not be.
"Queen Kono," he greeted her without moving. "Forgive me for not bowing."
"Told you," Callum said in that same sullen, mocking tone Ryson had tried to beat out of him as a child. The blade disappeared. "It took you long enough to catch up with us. You heard her?"
"Yes, but I caught her scent first. Where are her guards?"
"Guarding her rooms," Callum replied. "I am too used to it. We will have to find a way to neutralize it."
"Better if I announce that I am looking for a new scent and stop wearing any at all. After all, this was my mother's scent." She moved silently closer.
"You have been teaching her the arts," Ryson said. "Isn't that what the guards are for?"
"Depends on how much you trust the guards. How many do you know work for the Council?"
"I know of at least six," Ryson admitted.
"If you two continue this conversation around me, you might end up running the prison cells -- from the inside."
They stood in silence. Kono grew angry, but Ryson only heard it as a little hiss of breath.
"If you decide to do that, be certain to move anyone you truly want kept locked up. I fear I may turn liberal in my pardons. This way." Callum led them down a seldom-used hall. Queen Kono looked at Ryson with a raised eyebrow, probably not realizing how much she looked like her mother.
Ryson shrugged, and at that moment, the three were children again. If only life were that easy to fix. Many people would disapprove of the three joining forces again. Much like Callum, he didn't care. Doing right didn't always win friends.
