Tower of Tempest: A Steamy Fantasy Romance (Stolen Crowns Book 3) by Tee Harlowe

Author:Tee Harlowe [Harlowe, Tee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: M&F Publishing
Published: 2024-06-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Seven

POPPY

Isat in a chair as a lady’s maid curled my hair. It tumbled down my shoulders in big loops, shining and shimmering in the waning light of the sun.

“I’ve always dreamt of this moment,” the queen said from the doorway. My mother said. That was going to take some getting used to.

“Your Majesty.” I straightened.

She winced, and I knew it hurt that I didn’t call the queen Mother yet, but I’d spent twenty-two years without a mother. I wasn’t even sure I needed one at this point in my life.

“Here,” she said, nodding at the lady’s maid, who curtsied and left the room. She took the thick iron tongs and wrapped another strand of hair around them. Her deep purple gown sparkled and shimmered like twilight, her gray hair swept up into a sleek bun. Wrinkles lined her face, more prominent in the light.

“You know how to curl hair?” I asked the queen.

“Oh yes,” she said, a smile on her lips. “My mother was the stylist for the queen, your father’s mother. She’d bring me sometimes when she did Her Majesty’s hair, and I’d spend hours watching the ways she styled the queen.”

Queen Bronwen was a true testament to the rags-to-riches story. I still couldn’t believe it. That the king had chosen her despite everyone telling him it would be a mistake. I loved the story. The whimsy and magic of it. The romance.

Over the last week, I’d spent every day with the queen, getting to know her, her history, my history. We’d walked the halls of the castle, drank afternoon tea, talking for hours in the drawing room, spending nights looking at the stars from the conservatory. She was so easy to talk to, and I already felt a kinship with her. She’d also promised she’d teach me to fly when I was ready. There’d been no judgment in her eyes when I’d told her I didn’t know how.

It had been wonderful learning more about this woman whom Gran told me gave me up. She’d lied to me. Not a half truth but a full-on lie because it was apparent the queen would never have given me up. I hadn’t broached that topic with my mother, not sure how to even go about it.

My mother began humming mindlessly while working my long strands around the hot tongs. We fell into a comfortable silence, and it was nice being able to just sit in peace.

I’d barely seen King Yarron, the queen telling me he was very busy with important meetings and work. I had a feeling there was something she wasn’t saying, but I’d enjoyed my time with her so much that I’d set my worries aside.

I still wasn’t sure how she could be so certain I was her daughter. She’d shown me many paintings of her in her youth, and there was a striking similarity between us. Not to mention that song . . . I wasn’t sure how Gran knew it, how she’d passed it on to me, but it was odd.

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