Foolish Queen

By J A Fleming

Time is growing short. Merely two years remain before the curse will claim Queen Peydra’s life and desperation steals some of her common sense.

Despite advice to the contrary, Peydra returns to the palace after a disastrous visit to Old Towne and a six-week absence. She finds Speaker Erik cozy on her throne as regent. Determined to clarify whether he is friend or foe, the queen stubbornly puts herself at risk while Anthony and her allies fight to keep her safe.

More of Anthony’s past comes to light when Peydra sends him on a quest to find the Stone of Drayden. A childhood friend with questionable loyalties waylays and later joins him. Despite the extra help, Anthony returns to the palace not with the stone, but with Novi, a young woman who calls herself the Protector of the Stone. Novi sets into motion a quiet hopeful plan to save the queen.

Speaker Erik, having burned bridges between he and the queen, leaves the palace and sinks deeper into his father’s schemes, but his eyes are starting to open to the truth.

As time grows short, Peydra makes erratic decisions that threaten not only her life but that of her men. Will Anthony finally tell her who he really is before it’s too late, and if he does, will Peydra forgive the seeming deceit or will she banish him so she can focus on what she believes she must do?

•

Foolish Queen is the third book in Fleming’s Curse of Royalty series. Queen Peydra and Anthony have difficulty adjusting to their return to the palace, specifically to the necessary personal distance. Peydra insists that she needs Erik’s support to defeat the curse so she stubbornly puts herself into danger, not only with the speaker but in several situations.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J A Fleming
• Release date: Jul 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005511715

J A Fleming

JA Fleming makes her home in southern Louisiana. With a laugh, she describes herself as a lily– white redneck southern woman.A teller of stories and a heroine of elaborate imaginary games when she was a child, Fleming began to put stories on paper in middle school. She started by transcribing tales her father wove for her and her sisters while on long car rides – tales that were scary but with “funny” endings. When she was sixteen she wrote the first lines of what would become the debut series she’d share with the reading world, Curse of Royalty.A few of Fleming’s favorite authors: Laura Lond, Chris Fabry, Louis L’Amour, Jerry B. Jenkins, Timothy Gautreaux, Jane Austin, Ted Dekker, JRR Tolkien, Frank Peretti, CS Lewis.

Book preview

Queen Peydra Returns

Queen Peydra stoically sat her steed between two mounted guards, her shadowed eyes unreadable in the twilight of Old Towne. Anthony dismounted a few horse-lengths ahead of them and gave hushed instruction to her guards. She dismounted, and they took all of the horses with them, leaving only Nathaniel’s donkey. She stood beside Anthony on the snowy path. While they watched the two guards move quickly along the wall, she felt his sullen disapproval and his heightened vigilance press upon her almost like a physical weight.

When they galloped around the far corner of the surrounding wall, Peydra remained unmoving beside him, unwilling to disturb the quiet herself.

Anthony sighed and turned to her as if he had something to say. But Peydra avoided acknowledging it, unsure she’d be able to confirm with her earlier confidence that she was certain it was time to return to shoulder her duty as queen.

With another puff of misting breath, Anthony led across the bridge, but she paused at the railing, staring at the place where she’d dropped into the river last year. Had she truly decided to return to all of that? Was it too late to return to Nathaniel’s cottage?

Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. Yes. Yes, it was.

She squared her shoulders. If she was to honor her mother’s memory, then she had to honor her commitment to her people, even if that meant that the curse would take her. She clinched her fists and turned into the frigid wind to follow Anthony further into Old Towne.

He led her to a deceptively dilapidated building and its camouflaged secret passage door – the only secret passage that exited outside the walls of the palace. Knowing the door could not be opened from the outside, she dreaded the additional cold hours of waiting before a guard would be able to find the right tunnel and traverse its length to let them in. While she shivered, Peydra told herself again that to get into the palace unseen was the best course of action after her unexplained six-week absence.

Tentatively, she took a step into the space and watched Anthony take a cursory survey of their surroundings. He pushed around several stones near one wall and then returned to the cantankerous jenny. He unloaded her mother’s trunk from the donkey and then hid it within the pile of stones.

Without a word, Anthony left her in the meager shelter and returned a few moments later, having gathered kindling and wood. Making quick work of sparking a fire, he arranged the small flaming pile upon several flat stones near the passageway door.

An owl cried nearby. Peydra jolted, then noticed that Anthony had seen her startle. She cleared her throat and whispered, I hope the passage is clear. You think that this door still works?

It should. He toed a thin layer of snow away from the seams of the door, then returned to tending the small fire.

Peydra wandered about the small space and took great interest in ice sickles that seemed to glow like daggers in the moonlight. She avoided being near Anthony at the fire for as long as she could, but despite how the broken walls deflected some of the wind, she soon sought out its warmth.

Hours passed in uncomfortable silence, and then a grinding sound drew them both to a section of the cobbled floor. Ma’Kael appeared at the mouth of the dark hole like a wraith. When she didn’t immediately enter the cavern, Anthony moved in front of her, turning his back to Ma’Kael. In a low voice, he asked, You’re sure this is what you want?

Her luminous eyes rested on his for what seemed a long moment before she took a step and then another and another towards a future that she believed would soon be no future at all.

.2.

Regent

Reveling in his power, the Regent of Drayden let a self-satisfied sigh escape his lips. Erik never imagined removing the queen would be so beneficial. It had taken a mere two weeks for the rest of the council to settle after they discovered the queen’s absence that fall, though once they accepted that she was unlikely to return, they had allowed Erik increasing authority.

He perched himself on the throne in the expansive Ruling Council chambers studying High Council members as they aErik never imagined removing the queen would be so beneficial. It had taken a mere two weeks for the rest of the council to settle after they discovered the queen’s absence that fall, though once they accepted she was unlikely to return, they had allowed Erik's increasing authority.

He perched himself on the throne in the expansive Ruling Council chambers, studying High Council members as they all waited for the remainder of the room to empty. Each man stood before Erik in quick-fading winter light that still slipped in through the high windows.

High Priest Philloth with his gimp leg and thin gray hair spoke quietly with Councilman Chanteclear, who was ever tugging on a tunic that never quite seemed to cover his paunch. Councilman Rolf stood close to Erik’s immediate left speaking with Uncan of Morose Valley, who smoothed a hand over his slick head. Rolf, a small man with a slight build, seemed strangely still like one who was always hunting. His eyes would move to focus on someone or something before he’d move in any other way to show his intent. Erik believed that was why his father had immediately liked the man – they were very much alike internally.

Erik noticed Rolf’s eyes slide to the two men at Chanteclear’s broad back. Demitri of Raven’s Mountain and Morde of the northern hot springs silently watched the room with their dark eyes. Demitri impatiently tapped his thigh with a thumb while Morde appeared comfortable with the quiet waiting.

Rolf, who never quite seemed to offer Erik the respect he believed was his due, stepped close to Erik’s side as the chambers finally cleared of all but High Council members. Lord Regent, what is so important that you’ve called a meeting this evening instead of waiting for tomorrow’s regular gathering?

Erik pressed his lips tightly together to stall a retort before replying. During the council gathering tomorrow, I’d like one of you to propose that I could serve Drayden better from the throne, since our queen seems unlikely to return.

The room suddenly became still as death. Some even dared to cast looks of displeasure towards him.

Councilman Rolf stepped forward to address them.

Erik nodded, thinking that one of his father’s strongest supporters would naturally be the first to volunteer.

You’re already Regent. Until we’re certain of Queen Peydra’s whereabouts, I believe it would be wiser to continue as we have been in her absence.

As Rolf stepped back, the group murmured their agreement.

Morde did not respond. His dark disapproving eyes scanned the room as he listened to their comments, then noting their attention, stepped forward, his posture straight, reminding Erik of Morde’s military background. Are you certain our queen will not be returning?

Erik nodded gravely, careful to keep the corners of his mouth from tilting upwards.

How can you be certain?

First, Erik inwardly blanched at the direct question, but said, It’s been about six weeks. Wouldn’t she have returned by now if she was able?

What has been done to recover her? It seems possible she may be in trouble. I can’t believe she would have abdicated without a word.

Erik shrugged. Perhaps you’re right, Councilman.

Morde, obviously unsatisfied by the non-answer, stepped back when Erik didn’t add more. Eyeing the dark man, Erik wondered if he’d have to watch him more carefully.

Later that evening, as Erik’s hand hovered over a tray of freshly prepared delicacies, he considered further the idea that Morde may become a problem, but dismissed it. Morde didn’t yet know who his father was, but soon, Malpholous would be a visible presence, a strong influence supporting Erik’s worthiness of the throne. It would be nearly impossible for any of them to resist the momentum Erik and his father had been gaining in the six weeks that the queen had been absent.

Smiling, Erik chose a morsel from the tray and took a small bite. As he chewed, savoring the complexity of the flavors, he ruminated about how wonderfully things had been going. At first, his father had suspected Erik’s plan to infiltrate the queen’s life, but now that she was no more, Malpholous’ countenance had changed. Erik even believed that he’d detected a small amount of pride in his father’s attitude after what Erik had accomplished in such a short time. It was more than his father had accomplished in years.

.3.

Return

Bright morning light illuminated the Council Chambers. Mid-speech, Erik heard a stir at the doors. His eyes flicked briefly to them while he continued speaking. The shuffling quieted, so he put the distraction out of his mind. Today he was determined to exert his power as Regent of Drayden to make it clear the best way for him to serve was from the throne, regardless of High Council’s sentiments. Plenty of time had passed since the queen deserted her post; he smiled, confident she would never return. If she had survived, she’d be foolish to come back now, only to die in a few short years.

He’d been somewhat surprised at how easily those present were duped into believing he was former Speaker Glorienzel’s son. A corner of his mouth went up as he continued talking. Thanks both to his father’s expert planning and to Glorienzel’s own secrecy, only a few of those present knew who he really was. The majority never needed to know what his roots were; they only needed to bow to his supremacy, to his powerful intellect.

Several core members of High Council were aware of his background, and had worked with his father to plant seeds of mutiny that flourished within the palace walls that morning. The old fools of the general seated council only wanted someone they could control occupying the throne. They did not yet realize that though he had ridden his father’s coattails to the palace, he was doing his own walking now and no amount of political influence could force him to do anything he did not want to once he had gained the throne. When he got what he was after, they would bow to him. He smiled. His father would bow to him.

As Erik continued his rehearsed speech, he fantasized that with the throne’s unfettered power, he would quickly become who he was meant to be – an unassailable leader, worshiped and revered. He deserved it after all the torturous lessons he’d endured, all the childhood isolation, familial losses, personal sacrifices.

Stirring in the antechamber distracted him again, and his eyes shot toward the ornate double doors. He took a breath to continue, but choked on it as they flung wide.

Amidst a thick group of attendants and guards, Queen Peydra swept into the room.

Blood drained from his face. He recovered, but not quickly enough, for he was sure the queen had seen his flash of fear. Disconcerted, he backed away and bumped into his seat – the queen’s throne.

Effectively dismissing him from his position, and leaving no room for misinterpretation, she strode to where he had been standing and took her rightful place. Speaker, thank you for your honorable service in my absence.

Commander Gaius, some of her personal attendants, and a handful of frowning elite guards entered the room and stood near her. The rest of her personal guards and attendants spread out to encircle the room’s perimeter.

•

Though Queen Peydra had weighed dismissing Erik from the palace once and for all or even tossing him into the dungeon for an undetermined amount of time, she believed she needed more proof he wore a sheepskin – more than his circumstantial involvement in sending her to Old Towne and her own feelings of distrust. Though he had saved her from certain death that night, all of her sources indicated he hadn’t expended much effort to find her but had happily settled himself into being regent. As she studied how his slate-gray eyes avoided hers, she decided that if he did anything at all improper, Erik would lose his life; and at that moment, she believed herself strong enough to execute such a sentence without waiting for a High Council hearing.

Erik attempted to speak, but she raised her hand to stop him, a look reiterating her insistence that he was not to interrupt. As he took another breath, her brow raised and out slipped a very curt, Thank you, Speaker.

She carefully monitored her expression to show none of the trepidation she felt when he circled to the back of the room to claim the speaker’s chair. But by the time he’d reached the seat, Erik eased back into it with a comfortable grin. Peydra felt the eyes of High Council members upon her, but she made sure her expression was closed.

Once the room stilled, she said, I would like to begin my address with a comment about my gratitude to you who have remained. It is with your support I can serve as queen. Thank you.

One councilman near the front of the room, Demitri, stood and bowed before addressing the queen. Light from the high windows of the expansive room glared off his glistening raven-black hair. Your Highness, forgive me for asking, but why have you been so long absent?

I doubt you truly desire details of my absence; however, I will grant you all an answer since it is obvious that is at the forefront of each of your minds. She scanned their faces before continuing. As I am sure you are all aware, I have been fashioning a proposal to present to you concerning the curse that is upon the royals of Drayden. My desire to strengthen the core of Drayden has incited several people against me. I sequestered myself in secret, outside the palace walls to focus on the development of additional ideas that may under gird our government, serve our people, provide stability… To the mumbling in the room, she lifted her hand and they quieted.

"I know there are deep concerns about the idea of removing the Protection Dictum, so while I am here, I would like to address some of those rumors. I’m shocked that any of you would believe what I’m proposing in any way challenges your own positions in this great land. It also is not, nor has it ever sought to tear down the traditions of Drayden. As Queen, I am guardian of those traditions – be it far from me to even imagine doing such. I believe what I am attempting, though it may change how Drayden treats its royal bloodline, is for Drayden’s betterment. It will strengthen the core of Drayden’s government, showing to surrounding kingdoms we are still sovereign; that we are still powerful; that we are not to be ignored. Her gaze swept past their faces. I am certain we will come to some mutual agreement on the subject in the future."

Queen Peydra opened the floor for discussion. Several councilmen stood at once, indicating their desire to speak. She waved a hand at Morde to allow him the floor.

Morde bowed low and spoke, his voice deep and resonant within the council chamber. Are we to continue feeding peasants from the crown’s storehouses? Last year’s harvest was better than previous years, but not plentiful.

Having expected something very different from a man who sat on High Council, Peydra looked away to disguise a sigh of relief. If she hadn’t known better, she could have hugged him. She answered in the affirmative and gently gestured to allow him another question.

Shouldn’t the peasants give us something in return?

Queen Peydra paused for a moment, considering, and then understood what he was asking. Councilman, it seems to me you believe peasants do not deserve bread they have worked for. They pay heavy taxes – is that not a large enough return for a few hundred pounds of grain and head of cattle from Drayden’s reserves? Not only so, we have those supplies in such significant quantities that much of it spoils before the palace can use it. Periodically sending it to the capital is merely good management of our resources with smart politics seasoning it.

Majesty, I meant no disrespect, but I humbly ask what you believe could be the answer to this should our reserves not be as plentiful in the future.

Lower taxes, she stated simply. This brought great noise to the room, but before things got out of hand, she called for silence. Look at neighboring kingdoms. Their peasants are poor, but they are not starving. A person ought not have to choose between feeding his family and giving those who govern their due. And with two years of blighted crops because of the drought, that wildfire, and the increased taxes we have imposed, there is grumbling on the streets of Drayden against this ruling body. Have you not heard it?

She pressed fingertips to the tabletop. We all know that historically, heavy taxation of the poor has a tendency to cause bloody rebellion. Why else do you imagine Kagarists have gained so much ground? We should not ignore their plight. Consider the reports of civil war still raging in Hillat. Those peasants fight – not for money or land – but for bread. I believe if things continue as they have in Drayden, we, too, will have more than just a taxation problem.

She gestured to include those present. I know you all have families to feed. Take a moment to imagine what it would be like not to have the means by which to feed them. Imagine having to rely on someone else for your bread even though you work from before sunup until after sundown. Peasants may be unlearned, but they out-number us. If we can represent their interests just an infinitesimal amount more, I believe we would have better cooperation from them.

Chanteclear’s voice rose from the mumbling of others. What about those who do not work? Should they too be fed from the palace’s storehouses?

Peydra’s eyes narrowed as she looked into the middle distance. I think that would depend on circumstances. I cannot say that every person who does not work cannot eat – there are a few circumstances in which I would approve food being given to someone who ‘cannot’ work, such as the infirm, orphans, widows, and perhaps those who care for them, but now I believe we’re splitting hairs. What is the real question?

No one stood to press the issue. Morde only nodded from his seat and the nobles grumbled amongst themselves for a while longer before quieting. Though Morde had not smiled at her, Peydra wondered if he had purposely brought up the taxation topic to spare her from the others for a short while. Taxes were a topic they’d privately discussed, so he had known of her strident views. Regardless, she turned a speculative gaze on him before answering a few other more mundane questions raised by some of the general assembly.

After things seemed to have settled, Peydra gave the reins of the meeting back to Speaker Erik.

It needled her that someone she was no longer sure she could trust held the council’s speaker position, but that would be remedied as soon as he incriminated himself. She knew the man was calculating and careful, but believed he would soon lose his fear of discovery enough to act without concern of consequence. She also believed him to be of the sort who, if publicly revealed to be the fraud she suspected him to be, would become murderously angry. Peydra hoped he would sign his own death sentence with many witnesses present, but as she looked at him, she hoped she had enough courage for what lie ahead.

•

Once inside the relative safety of her chambers and amidst her large entourage, Queen Peydra motioned to Hippocratis and then to Ma’Kael and Anthony, dismissing the others into the sitting room and chamber hallway. She requested an herbal tea from the doctor, who immediately left to see to it.

As the other two neared, she spoke quietly, "I’d like to review my mother’s papers within the next few days. Would one of you have them brought to me? The Cleaning should come to completion by the fall and the newly copied books made available, but now I must find out if, as I feared, passages key to my proposal have been changed or if they have copied the books word for word. And send a message to Chaucier. If he is willing, I could use his help to decipher the difficult passages."

Do not fear, Majesty, Ma’Kael began. You have more supporters within the walls of the palace than you may believe.

Peydra smiled at his reassurance, then drew a hand across an eye. Though her reintroduction into the council meetings hadn’t been as difficult as she had imagined, she suddenly felt spent despite the early hour.

Ma’Kael bowed grandly, saying he and Anthony would retrieve the papers for her in short order. Anthony nodded, and Peydra looked away to avoid eye contact.

Perhaps wait until dark? Once you’ve brought it back, please put it in my study.

Of course, My Queen, Anthony stated.

Her eyes flicked to Anthony, then away again – the formality of being back at the palace proving almost painful.

They escorted her through a secret passage to her study and then left her with a goodly number of elite guards crowded into the waiting area.

Emotion overwhelmed Peydra almost as soon as they were gone. Being allowed only the barest expressions associated with anger, approval or lack thereof when in mixed company had always been difficult, but she was finding the restrictions smothering, especially after the freedom she’d felt while at Nathaniel’s. At that moment, she wished for a way to cauterize those emotions, remove them so they wouldn’t make her feel so weak, so afraid. Decisive action was what they wanted, nay, what they needed from their ruler; however, dread of the fast approaching curse battered her with doubt.

•

Anthony opened the door for Hippocratis, who entered the study with a steaming cup of tea. When the older man exited the queen’s presence, Anthony stalled him to ask how he thought she was. Instead of answering, Hip asked about the queen’s anxiety level.

I haven’t seen her have a reaction in at least a month.

Hip leaned near and said, I put something to calm her into the tea just in case. And then he asked, Why’d you let her return?

Anthony chuckled. You think I had a say in that?

Hippocratis rubbed his chin. You want her safe, don’t you?

Aye.

And able to live through the dictum?

Of course. What’re you getting at?

The doctor shrewdly eyed Anthony. I’ve a few ideas, but I may need help. If she’s unwilling to leave like her mother was, I might need to do something drastic.

My sentiments exactly.

Hippocratis frowned. We could drug her and get her out through one of the secret passages. I’ve heard there’s at least one that exits in the middle of Old Towne, but I haven’t permission to wander enough through those to find out if that’s true.

At Anthony’s look of disapproval, Hip said, There are so many of the old order involved with implementing the dictum that I’ve got to prove that she’s dead or I’ll hang. They know I’m not afraid of them. If I could just… but they monitor everything.

We’ve got some time.

Poison is easy. Counteragents aren’t.

I think I know the hidden passage you’re talking about. We used it to get back into the palace, but I don’t know how cooperative she will be.

•

Just after sundown, Anthony and Ma’Kael walked their horses silently along the palace’s main curtain wall towards the far reaches of the grounds and the camouflaged door.

Exiting through the hidden door into Old Towne, they soon reined their horses beside a pile of stone Anthony pointed out. Impulsive as ever, Ma’Kael dropped from his saddle and went to root around at its base. Then, having unearthed the trunk, he grasped the handle and gave a tremendous heave. The container flew from its hiding place, and Ma’Kael fell onto his rump with a thud, the trunk landing beside him.

I thought this would be heavier, he complained; pulling the trunk closer and using it to push himself up.

Why’s that? Anthony smiled at his friend’s expression and thought that perhaps he should’ve mentioned it was almost empty.

Ma’Kael dusted wet snow and mud from his seat. Just the way she was talking about it. Sounded like it’d be full.

It was.

Ma’Kael frowned a second in his confusion while he secured the trunk to the pack mule they’d brought along then said, You know, as much as I missed you both, I was hoping never to see you again.

That’s part of the reason I didn’t send Will with you this evening. I need to make sure you’re aware of what she has planned. Regardless of their loyalties or sentiments, I doubt the councilmen will go against Erik if he doesn’t support her proposal, and we both know he won’t.

Anthony moved to the secret passage door. First things first, though. He bent to avoid a low hanging branch. I propped it open last night when I moved the trunk’s contents.

Why move the goods and not the trunk? Ma’Kael grumbled while he pulled the donkey along into the stone building.

I was tired and only so much of that fit into the sack I’d brought. And loaded like it was – that trunk’s too heavy to haul through the passage. That’s probably six kilometers between here and the exit. Anthony touched something near the counterweight and the floor yawned open.

•

That evening Anthony returned to Peydra’s side, depositing the trunk in a corner of her study where she was muddling through a stack of edicts. She watched as he stoked the fire and replaced a few taper candles to brighten the room.

Anthony.

He gave her his attention.

Thank you, but you know someone would have been coming in to do that soon.

He nodded.

Pushing back in her chair, she crossed her arms. This is too difficult.

What’s that?

She paused but finally said, Being back here. Things are returning to how they were. She pressed her lips together, feeling her cheeks blossom with color. I don’t want you to believe I expect things to return to how they were before. I plan to ask more of you soon, but until I do, relax some. Don’t think I want you to always be at my chair back. Choose a book to read, slip into the sitting room to do man things.

A corner of his mouth quirked. Man things? Like what?

How should I know? Man things. Things that men do.

He chuckled and sat in a chair before her. Ok – In the future, I’ll make sure I do ‘man things’ in the sitting room instead of in here.

You know what I mean.

Aye, but… His expression clouded while she waited for him to finish his thought. He lifted his eyes to hers and said, I’m not sure it is wise for either of us to be too informal.

She sighed. I know you have to set the standard of behavior for the others – I’m just asking that when it’s just the two of us in a room, that you find something to occupy yourself with instead of standing all stone-faced at the back of my chair. Really, I don’t know how you have managed it for so long.

She gestured at him. This is a good start. I give you leave to sit where and when you want.

So, it wouldn’t matter to you if a council member burst through that door while I was sitting here speaking to you as if you were not the sovereign leader of the kingdom? Easing to his full height, he stood before the chair.

Her eyes followed the movement. Regardless, my wish is the same – do something more than merely hover around my chair while I work.

Leveling an appraising gaze on her, he then went to the other side of the study.

Relief filled her as she watched him scan the rows of book titles. He selected one from the shelf, opened it to the center, and appeared to read some of it before closing it again. Acting as if he planned to stand at her chair back to read, she stopped him and pointed to the grouping of comfortable chairs on the other side of the room near several bright sconces.

He pointed to her chair with his book.

Bemused, she watched him settle into his usual place and open the book. She shook her head at him. Well, I suppose that’s a start.

.4.

Advice

Upon entering the study after a long afternoon in the hearing room, Queen Peydra’s gaze brushed past the trunk in its unobtrusive corner. Her mind still touched on the unusual number of courtiers and nobles in the gallery. They had been almost distracting as she had attempted to listen to the concerns each peasant brought to her. Peydra hoped the novelty of her return would fade quickly especially since she had decided she may open the palace for two hearing days per week instead of the usual one.

Her eyes drifted to the eight law books she had held from The Cleaning; they still sat at the side of her desk. Atop them rested several reports High Priest Philloth had hand delivered just that morning. Peydra looked aside at the hearth as a temptation to burn them entered her mind.

She had them in a hand before she thought better of it and moved the bundle to the center of her desk. Anthony, would you mind opening these?

He came from the sitting room doors. Which ones?

She touched the stack, then stepped past him and motioned for him to sit at her desk. When he hesitated at the edge of the desk, she brushed her fingers across his sleeve intending to tell him to make himself comfortable but words caught. His eyes were so close, their color vivid in the bright afternoon light.

Would you like me to review them as well? he asked.

Would you? Blinking, she looked away.

I can.

Put aside any that don’t seem to follow the pattern. I’m considering giving him access to the books I’ve held back before he asks for them.

When Anthony sat, she pushed the seal opener towards him and said, He’s surprised me by continuing to write these even while I wasn’t present.

Anthony broke the first seal. He’s smart.

"Yes