Queen V.'s Arc

Chapter 11 of 13

The guests drifted toward the rosé table. Queen V. watched Paul move among them, gesturing toward the garden house windows and the peaked roof. Alan James stood beside him, hands in his pockets. She caught Paul's eye and tilted her head toward the fire pit. He nodded and placed a hand on Alan James's shoulder, steering him away from the crowd. One of the guests produced a newspaper article about beer creatures spotted in cottage country. The group laughed and passed it around, someone reading aloud about foam shapes appearing at dawn. Queen V. felt her chest tighten. She stepped closer and joined their laughter, keeping her face smooth. The article made it entertainment instead of evidence. She glanced toward Paul and Alan James by the fire pit, but Alan James was no longer there. She scanned the property. Alan James moved along the garden house's far side, away from the guests. An amber bottle sat on the ground near the brick bench, half-hidden by shadow. He crouched and reached for it. Queen V. walked quickly across the lawn, angling to block him from the guests' view. She reached him before his fingers touched the glass. "That's not for you," she said quietly. He looked up at her, then at the bottle, then back at her face. "I know," he said. "It's for you." She picked up the bottle and held it against her side. Alan James stood and brushed off his hands. "I won't tell Paul," he said. She nodded once. He walked back toward the fire pit, and she carried the bottle into the garden house. Inside, she set it on the floor behind a chair where no guest would see it. When she returned to the lawn, Paul was pouring rosé and the guests were still laughing about the article. Alan James watched her from across the fire pit. She had stopped him from taking the bottle, but he had named what it was. The secret had shifted from what she did to what he knew she did.