Pherenike - Chapter 111

His sharp nose and ascetic lips were now glistening with the woman’s liquid. Slowly, he licked his mouth clean and tucked himself back beneath his robes.

Despite the way he was already half-hard again, he composed himself, straightening the deep purple fabric over his shoulders with elegance. It was hard to believe this was the same man who, just moments ago, had buried his face between her legs beneath her skirts.

At last, the carriage came to a stop. He pressed a respectful kiss to Pherenike’s knee, then stepped outside. Brushing aside the attendants who’d come to serve her, he lifted her down from the carriage himself, like a child.

This time, unlike at the infirmary where she’d pushed away his concern, Pherenike quietly accepted his help. Actor pressed his lips to her neck, breathing her in.

“…Do you really want me?”

Even if it was only the smallest bit. He never lost that flat, self-effacing note in his voice. The look on his face—hoping for love—reminded her of his daughter.

But unlike their daughter, he asked for almost nothing at all, just something tiny and insubstantial.

For a moment, the bitterness faded. He didn’t seem so repulsive. Instead, she found herself despising herself all the more.

It was as if Leuce didn’t take after him, but he was the one who resembled their daughter. Sometimes she couldn’t help but curse the womb that had given birth to the princess.

Pherenike quietly wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I did want you.”

The happier the man was, the better. The more blind he was, the better.

She would lead him right to the edge.

The last arrow hit its mark. It found the tiniest gap among the cluster of arrows already filling the center of the wooden target. From a distance, a young page cleverly ran to the target and began pulling out and sorting the arrows.

The Queen did not like anyone attending her too closely. Still, she favored those who were quick-witted. As the target was cleared, an older maid approached and offered her water.

Pherenike took a sip and watched as the quiver was refilled. At her subtle nod, the maid led the young page a good distance away.

Her elegant hands nocked another arrow and drew the bow. As she pulled back the string, the muscles in her slender arm, visible outside her tunic, briefly traced a graceful line.

Pherenike paused to judge the wind, then let the arrow fly. It caught the faint breeze and sailed toward the target, landing just shy of the dead center. She eyed the slightly off-mark arrow with clear dissatisfaction, then shook out her arm to ease the tension.

She still lacked strength. Standing here with all the time and focus she needed, she could just about manage a good shot. But in a real emergency, she knew her arrows would barely fly half the intended distance.

She pulled another arrow from the quiver and drew the bowstring once more, her jaw set with effort even after the arrow was released. This time, she hit the bull’s-eye, but considered it pure luck.

Just as she cast another dissatisfied look at the target and reached for another arrow, a chorus of urgent voices rang out across the palace gardens.

“Your Highness!”

“Princess Leuce!”

Pherenike was hardly fazed by the commotion her daughter always managed to stir up.

Most of the women calling out were the wives of the favorites who were educating the princess and had visited the palace daily. Beside the wives of the King’s trusted courtiers, women whom Ino had personally and carefully selected.

Generally, there was nothing to criticize about them.

Except that they all tended to be far too indulgent with the King’s only daughter. Out of respect for Ino, Pherenike had yet to intervene.

Ino, after all, was not just anyone; she was the nanny who had raised the King himself in the absence of his mother, and even the oldest courtiers sometimes treated her like the king’s own mother.

“Your Highness!”

The younger ladies hurried across the garden, followed by the older women shuffling behind them. The princess could never sit still without her parents around and loved nothing more than playing hide and seek without anyone noticing.

Pherenike could easily guess where her daughter might be hiding: behind the sanctuary where her mother prayed, in the maid’s room she was fond of, on the eastern landing, beneath her father’s desk, under the low shrubs in the back gardens, or inside the tiny hut by the aspen trees in Geda Grove, built by her father’s old servant.

She had never gone looking for her daughter herself, but she remembered every place the servants had reported finding the princess. In fact, she kept a more diligent record of those spots than the attendants who brought her the news.

“Kybellaune! So here you are.”

Ino called, shading her face from the sun with a fan as she detoured toward Pherenike.

“She insisted on seeing the cat this morning, so we all went searching for it. In that short time, she managed to disappear again. She’s so quick on her feet, it’s almost unbelievable.”

“She’s fast.”

Pherenike replied calmly. Noticing a small bead of sweat on the queen’s brow, Ino fanned her as if tending to a little girl.

“His Majesty was never like that, not even once.”

Pherenike glanced at her, thinking it was hardly Leuce who was odd, but rather the king himself. Ignoring the fuss, she reached for another arrow as Ino chattered on proudly.