The Red Queen Read Online Free Page B

Aida.
    “Uh, your English is very good,” Duncan said. “I can barely hear any trace of an accent.”
    The other guard nodded an impressive approval.
    Aida hissed, “I was raised in Chicago.” She pushed the cart away without the slightest intention of serving the guards, and they traded a glance.
    As Aida strolled past Vladimir, he called, “Slow down, Aida darling. Can I have an omelet too?”
    “I’m not your darling,” Aida said coldly. “You want anything, make it yourself.”
    Vladimir kept his grin, but Lucienne caught fleeting hurt in his hazel eyes.
    Aida stopped again beside Ashburn and placed a plate full of pancakes in front of him. She poured syrup on top of the stack. “More syrup, Ash?” she asked fondly.
    “Yes, please,” Ashburn said. “And thank you, Aida.”
    The nanny drizzled more syrup on Ash’s pancakes, then left the whole bottle on the table directly in front of him. Lucienne watched silently. Aida refused to serve Vladimir, but at least she hadn’t spat on his food or mixed sand in his steak and sandwiches as the chefs in Sphinxes’ castle did.
    Lucienne cut her omelet in half, placed a portion on another plate, and pushed it toward Vladimir. “Share mine,” she offered.
    “Jsi můj miláček,” Vladimir said in Czech, meaning, “You’re my sweetheart.” He cut a piece of creamy spinach omelet and put it into his mouth. “Good stuff,” he said and swallowed it.
    Ashburn glared at Vladimir. Standing behind Ashburn, Aida also looked daggers at the Czech prince. Vladimir took in another mouthful of omelet and moaned as if he were in heaven.
    “Aida is a softie inside.” Lucienne turned to the guards. “She’s made plenty of toasts, bacons, and beans for everyone in the kitchen. Help yourself.”
    “We take turns,” Duncan told a young guard. “And I outrank you.” With that, he rose and exited into the kitchen.
    The guard murmured a complaint.
    Lucienne ignored the tension in the room, determined to enjoy her breakfast. She put a forkful of omelet into her mouth and chewed. It didn’t have the delicious flavor of fine egg, cheese, and spinach. It tasted like rusty metal. Then the smell of blood permeated the air.
    No , Lucienne cried silently, as a heated wave hit her face. 
    “ No ,” she heard Ashburn’s whisper as she looked up from her food and locked eyes on him.
    The wave dragged her toward a pit as she kicked and screamed, struggling to pull free.
    It was gone, leaving her in the center of a sunny room, where everything appeared distorted.
    She blinked in confusion, and everything returned to normal.
    “Oh, gods, it comes more and more often,” an old woman cried. “My sweet girl suffers.”
    She ignored the woman, who posed no threat, but the men surrounding her were warriors. They were young and virile, and she could sense they were always itching for a fight. Tensing up, she grasped a string of beads on her wrist. She never went anywhere without a weapon, and though the beads didn’t seem dangerous, they were lethal in her hands. The enemies who underestimated her had paid dearly.
    “Láska?” A hazel-eyed boy called to her.
    Why did he call her “love” in Czech? She didn’t even know him. Was this some kind of trick to make her lay down her defense? Narrowing her eyes, she plucked three open beads from the string, twirling them between her fingers. Any wrong move from these men, and she’d attack first. She could put down two or three at once.
    “Lucia, we’re your friends.” A silver-haired boy gestured for the others to fall back as he moved toward her like approaching a small carnivore. But she wasn’t small. She was tall and deadly and feeling backed into a corner. 
    The men all looked tense, but they obeyed the silver-haired boy and stepped back, their eyes not moving from her.
    The hazel-eyed boy ignored the silver-haired boy’s warning and competed to reach her. A rebel type, she thought. Should she take him down now?
    “Don’t