The Jack of Hearts (House of Cards Book 1)

Chapter 12 | The Jack of Clubs (part ii)

The heavy doors shut behind them and Rosalyne's mind flicked away from her irritation with her lord-betrothed and back to the king and queen.

The monarchs were not at all what Rosalyne expected. They were nothing like her parents. Her parents — her pater — would have insisted on a ceremonial presentation, heralds and trumpets, up on his dais in his royal robes. By contrast, the king and queen's introduction was familiar — Rosalyne felt as though she'd entered a private salon rather than a receiving room.

Even the way the queen conducted herself down in the courtyard had felt strange.

Clovis' experience had proved useful in that moment. Rosalyne suspected it would continue to do so in anticipating the customs and expectations of her new home. Clovis was a quiet, unassuming sort, and when the king almost didn't recognise him, it had confirmed Rosalyne's theory.

One could use their Influence to comfort or intimidate, but one could, with practice and a decent amount of innate ability, push notice away from one's self. It was a skill primarily instilled in servants so they would not be a cumbersome presence to their masters. But there were some servants that could melt into walls, rendered nigh invisible, and were often used in the Aertisian court as spies.

Rosalyne had to assume that Lord-Ambassador Raftertom brought this practice with him to Fort Khadi.

Rosalyne realised the manservant in question, had fallen several paces behind, and Rosalyne experimentally pressed her Empathy to him to see if she could slip through his deflection.

There was a slight resistance, and Rosalyne let it subside before spearing into his mind. Clovis' nausea twisted Rosalyne's stomach. Stress burned at the top of his throat as he followed several paces behind Rosalyne.

At Clovis' dread, Rosalyne reanalysed her interactions with the king and queen. Had she missed something? The monarchs were calm (the king almost to an extreme) and un-offended throughout. She would have noticed if she made some blunder, and yet Clovis reaction was undeniable.

She dug further into the servant's mind only to realise the terror was directed at her. Clovis noticed she was rooting around in his emotions, and Rosalyne felt the shot of his panic before she was pushed out of his mind.

Clovis had a secret.

Rosalyne combed through every memory of Clovis since she'd yanked him out of that tree, gathering every detail, every conversation, look and feeling — searching for what she'd missed. His mistake.

She thought all the way back to the moment he'd fallen out of that tree and snapped angrily at Lord O'rian that he wasn't a soldier.

Rosalyne had made Clovis apologise and he had hesitated — though perhaps not with resistance as Rosalyne originally thought.

She'd missed the careful look the servant had cast over her and O'rian as he decided where to lay his loyalty. He'd made a choice, and it had not been her.

Rosalyne stopped dead in the middle of a flight of stairs, ripping her hand away from the railing to grip her chest. Her head slowly turned to pin Clovis to the spot with her glare.

His pale, damp face, all but confirmed it.

Lucas came to a stop behind her. «Her Highness?»

Dys placed a hand on her arm. «We're almost there.»

Her escort frowned down at her. "You alright? Don't faint on the stairs and kill yourself after I finally got you here."

Rosalyne hardened and she laughed. She gathered her skirts and marched up the stairs past her escort.