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Chapter Fifteen

Reema Morgan couldn't sleep.

Her head had been pounding since they'd left the creek. A part of her had expected that Princess Angevin would have moved her bedroll to sleep beside her again, but she hadn't. Either Althea wasn't experiencing the symptoms of the distance to the same extent as Reema, or the exchange by the water's edge had rattled the blonde more than the queen had realized.

It scared her, Reema's mind taunted. It scared her that you saw what you saw.

As she sat up, rubbing her temples in a fruitless attempt at relief, the queen sighed.

You don't even know what you saw.

It was her in that stable. I'd know those eyes anywhere.

You don't know the context.

"What does it even matter?" the queen whispered into the darkness, but her voice was loud enough that it woke Ximena, whose wide green eyes were fixed on the brunette at once.

"My queen?" asked the feline, and Reema stiffened at the sound.

"It's nothing Ximena."

"Very well."

The jaguar laid back down, saying no more. Reema glanced in the direction of Althea and Hazel's bedrolls. The redhead was currently on guard with Gunnar, but the queen could see the shadowy outline of Althea's form as she slept—or appeared to sleep—some fifty feet away.

She can't be sleeping. You'd feel it.

Her inner monologue starting to irritate her more than ever, the queen got to her feet and headed in the direction of the small fire beside which Hazel sat. She could feel Ximena's eyes on her, but the big cat made no move to follow her.

When she took a seat, she saw Hazel glance around, presumably for Gunnar, before a greeting was issued.

"You're up awfully early, Your Majesty."

Reema sighed.

"That would imply that I had managed to be anything other than awake prior to now," she replied.

"Bad dreams?"

A snort of laughter escaped her before she could stop it.

"Believe me, Red, my reality is much worse than my nightmares ever could be."

Reema could almost feel the second's tension and mistrust in the air itself, as though it were she that was letting off smoke instead of the fire. The woman obviously—and rightly so—did not trust the queen of Nirole, but Reema couldn't hold it against her. There weren't many who trusted her these days, after all.

"Why are you really here, Your Majesty?" Hazel asked, her gaze suspicious. "What are you actually getting out of all of this?"

Reema frowned.

"Nothing I can possibly articulate to you would ever enable you to understand my motivations. To be honest, I'm surprised your dearly beloved back there even agreed to this little trip to begin with."

Now the redhead looked thoroughly put off and...offended?

"My 'dearly beloved?'" she asked, and the bewilderment written across her features gave Reema pause. Perhaps she'd been mistaken. "My relationship with the princess is...purely professional, Your Majesty. Did you...come over here just to ask me that?" Her head tilted.

"Ask you what?" the queen replied, raising an eyebrow.

The second glanced around again, her eyes settling briefly on Gunnar in the distance before returning to Reema's own.