At the Queen's Command Read Online Free Page A

at the room’s heart. Several bound volumes lay open. Pressed and dried flowers had been affixed to the pages of one, with notes penned in an even, feminine hand. They described the flower in every detail, including its preferred habitat and range, as well as its known and suspected uses.
    Other books displayed well-drawn images of birds and animals. The writing recorded many of the same details as in the flower book, but in a much bolder hand. Owen suspected that to be the Prince’s work. The animal accounts also included hunters’ anecdotes. Some entries had numbers beside them which, Owen quickly figured out, referred to specimens in jars.
    The pages crackled as Owen turned them. The rough paper rasped across his fingertips. Many of the creatures strongly resembled those back in Norisle, often only differing in color or size. But some other creatures… Can such things exist?
    He looked up. An ivory skull weighed down a stack of papers: clearly feline and much larger than any wild cat he’d ever seen. The curved fangs were nearly a handspan in length. He traced a finger along the inside edge and almost cut himself on the serrated surface. The teeth had been designed for slicing flesh and sinew.
    The Prince glanced over his shoulder and chuckled. “That’s a small one. The adult is over there.” The Prince pointed toward the corner of the room, hidden behind a tall clutter of shelves. “They’ve coded this message. I will be a minute. Go take a look.”
    Owen nodded as the Prince sat at his desk. The soldier squeezed into the labyrinth of shelves, careful not to upset anything. His shoulders brushed books on both sides. Twisting around to the right, he turned a blind corner, then gasped. His left hand came up to fend off his attacker as his right hand fell to where he should have been wearing a pistol.
    Instead of the skull he’d been expecting to find, he’d come face to face with a fully mounted and articulated cat of enormous proportions. A few dark spots haphazardly dappled the short, tawny fur along its spine. Tufted ears flattened back against its skull. Its snarl revealed the saber teeth ready to drive deep into prey. Clawed paws reached for him, ready to hook and hold. From its nose to the tip of its stubby tail the creature had to have been at least eight feet long and would’ve been about five feet at the shoulder.
    The glassiness of the creature’s dark eyes and its rigidity left no doubt that it was dead, but its lifelike pose made it a creature of nightmares. Owen peered closely at it, both admiring its size and looking for some sign of what had killed it. The creature appeared to be in full health and Owen found no obvious wounds.
    The Prince appeared, smiling. “Bravo, Captain Strake. You didn’t scream. That was not true of Colonel Langford.”
    “What is it?” Owen brushed a hand along its back, feeling the fur. “I’ve been to zoological gardens, but never…”
    Prince Vlad stroked the creature’s other flank. “It has many names. Some call it a lion or a tiger. It doesn’t have enough spots to be leopard. I prefer sabertooth cat. Many Mystrians call it a jeopard . I believe it’s a play on the words leopard and jeopardy. It’s rather accurate so I may give in and adopt it.”
    Owen shivered. Displays and pictures in Norisle had been completely inadequate. He assumed stories of fabulous beasts had been intended to scare children and credulous individuals who would never set foot on that distant shore.
    The Prince smiled. “I apologize for sending you here unawares. I’ve closed off this little corner of my workshop as a test for visitors. Put it down to my odd sense of humor, perhaps?” He patted the nearby shelves. “I even reinforced the woodwork, since the common Norillian reaction is to flee gibbering madly.”
    Owen smiled, imagining Mr. Wattling’s probable reaction. “Colonel Langford considered me as welcome in his office as he would a jeopard, I think.”
    The Prince