The Queen's Knight(ch3)

Taryn and the Queen spent most days together after that. With her previous knights, Dahlia only allowed them to escort her but a few times a day. Taryn, however, joined the queen on her outings, meetings, and announcements, assuming this was all typical for a personal knight. Under this assumption, Taryn wondered how it was that a single knight could be assigned to her majesty without falling in love with her.

Queen Dahlia was beautiful in the traditional way, of course, but that much could be gathered by the casual observer. What Taryn noticed, and grew fond of were the smaller details. A small mole on her jawline, for instance. The way her eyes twitched when she was about to laugh. A strand or two of silver hair, despite the Queen being in her mid twenties.

At night, when her mind went idle and waited for sleep, Taryn’s thoughts strayed to details like these. Then, when she realized she was smiling, all alone, for no reason at all, she would curse softly, and turn over in the sheets, trying desperately to think of something else.

Taryn knew that if she were to develop real feelings for the queen, she would never recover. Though years of training as a knight had helped her hide it, she felt nothing if not deeply and for long periods of time. The last woman she fell for was a barmaid who flirted shamelessly with her, just before marrying an old man from Conway. It took months to get over that one, and Silas wouldn’t let her forget all the sulking he had to put up with.

Queens, on the other hand, were another matter. There was no future with Dahlia, and Taryn knew it.

Still, she couldn’t pretend that Dahlia’s hand on her arm or hand didn’t thrill her. Nor could she say that her majesty’s flirtatious quips didn’t linger in her mind long after the conversation ended.

“You mean to tease me,” she said after the queen hinted that she would rather bed Taryn in the stables than stay in a Montes inn.

“Who, me?” Dahlia sat fidgeting at a table in the very hotel she referenced. “I wouldn’t tease you, Taryn, you’re my dearest friend.”

Taryn snorted, and looked away. The table they sat at was in the tavern room of the inn, surrounded by the violent joy of alcohol and music. With the help of a few servants, the entire royal company had been disguised as local peasants. The local aspect certainly didn’t convince, especially with their accents, but at least no one crowded Queen Dahlia, or tried to stab her.

“You and I are just people here.” the Queen continued, “No one would think it strange if we were to drink, or make merry. In fact, I’m sure everyone finds it odd that we don’t drink, or sing, or even smile in your case, on such a lovely night.”

Taryn couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. Dahlia seemed to have a dangerous power over her that had nothing to do with her rank. “There it is,” the queen gloated, “So the fair lady has teeth after all. Now the only question that remains is whether she has rhythm.”

Dahlia stood, and offered a hand to Taryn. She looked so strange, in a simple tunic and torn trousers, with her hair tangled, and her shoes caked in dirt. She looked less like a goddess now, Taryn thought, and more like a woman.

“Very well, my lady,” Taryn took the Queen’s soft hand in hers and joined her on the floor with the other dancers.

Instead of copying the others in their lively, unfamiliar steps, Dahlia led her knight into a faster version of Shale’s waltz. Taryn, only somewhat familiar with the upper class dances, and trying not to think about how close the Queen was to her face, struggled to keep up.

Dahlia laughed, and slowed down for the sake of her ignorant partner. Taryn’s eyes were wide with confusion, and her nose pink, the way it usually was when they touched. She might have said something to encourage her, but the band, combined with the shouting behind the bar, and the patrons singing loudly and off-key, made them deaf to anything. So instead, Dahlia moved her hand from Taryn’s shoulder to her waist, and pulled her closer. A slight gasp escaped Taryn, and for a moment, she was glad for the noise that drowned it.

At such a close proximity, Taryn found she couldn’t easily avoid eye contact. Her face was inches away from the Queen of Shale, who stood just a few inches shorter, still smelling of sweat from the journey, and looking more beautiful than ever.

Then, Taryn’s foot found a spot on the floor where someone spilled ale, and she flew backwards. Dahlia reached to catch her, but was a moment too late. Taryn landed with a thud on the ground, hitting a few unfortunate bystanders on the way.

“Tar?” Taryn’s view of the ceiling was obstructed by Dahlia’s face. “You foolish thing, are you alright?”

Taryn pushed herself into a sitting position, holding her head. She realized then that the band had briefly stopped. When she looked around, a few of the people previously dancing were now craning their necks to see, looking slightly concerned. She looked back at Queen Dahlia and smiled. “I’m here with the most beautiful woman in the world, how could I not be alright?”

Dahlia’s mouth twitched. But instead of laughing, she leaned forward, grabbed Taryn by the shirt, and pushed a kiss into her lips. Taryn knew, then, that it was over. Despite her best efforts, she had fallen for the Queen of Shale, and nothing would cure her.