She’s right. I haven’t signed that treaty.
Theron turns to me, smiling like he planned this.
“No,” he says to Giselle. “But if this treaty is something Yakim agrees to, I had hoped to stage a joint signing ceremony between Yakim and Winter. A symbol to the world that Rhythm and Season both intend to make this work.”
The curiosity on Giselle’s face sharpens into analysis. “Why did Winter wait to sign with Yakim? I understand Cordell is involved with that Season.”
Up until now, Giselle had seemed almost annoyed to have us here—but with that one question, her true feelings shine through.
She invited me to her kingdom via Finn and Greer’s visit a few weeks ago—and I showed up, with Cordell, who proclaims unification of the world, declaring that they have a mighty vision for the future that would put everyone onequal footing. A counter to Yakim’s attempts at unseating Cordell from Winter.
No matter how sincere Theron might be, no matter what Giselle meant by that odd statement about Theron resembling Noam, this visit is an insult to Yakim.
Regret overtakes my initial anger. I didn’t think this through—
Theron smiles at her. “Winter waited because it brings a gift of its own to present to Yakim—a stake in the Klaryns.”
Shock numbs me as Theron flings his arm toward the door, and Cordellan guards saunter in. One holds a crate—where was it? In their carriage?
He sets it at Giselle’s feet.
“What once only Seasons owned is now Rhythm owned as well,” Theron continues, ignoring my stunned glare.
He didn’t tell me he would present Giselle with Winter’s goods—mykingdom’s goods.
He shouldn’t have done this without telling me. I’d planned on giving away stakes in the Klaryns, yes—but I’d planned to do itfor Winter, not for Theron’s plan.
The Klaryns are not Cordell’s to give.
Giselle eyes the crate, her flash of insult abating in what I assume is shock. Wide eyes, pursed lips, a slightly lifted brow. She looks up at Theron, her grip adjusting on the scroll. “Allow me time to consider your proposal,” is all she says.
Theron smiles. “That’s as much as I can ask of you.”
But she’s already turning back to her ledger. “Yes, it is.”
Theron whirls to me, his smile blinding. “See? Not such a pointless meeting after all.”
The absence disbelief brought makes me empty and drained, and I can only gape at him and shake my head. “I need to go lie down,” I say, and turn, skirt in my fists.
“Of course.” Theron wraps his arm around my waist to support me, offering comfort and help so easily, so unabashedly.
It hurts worse that it doesn’t occur to him that he did anything wrong. But why would it? I told him I’m on his side. I lied to him, and this is the product of my lie—he believes our goals are aligned. He believes that whatever needs to be done, I’ll agree to.
But even if I were truly on his side, I wouldn’t be okay with this. Because wearen’tjust two friends united in a goal of peace—we’re a Season and a Rhythm, a queen and a prince. And Giselle just saw the Cordellan heir give away pieces of Winter.
Theron had no right to do this.
Resolve sweeps through my shock and hurt, hardening me as I stop inside the door, pivoting back and simultaneously pulling out of Theron’s arm. Conall and Garrigan stagger behind me, biting back their discomfort. And even farther behind them, Giselle stands with her back to us, the crate of Klaryn goods at her feet, Theron’s treaty onher ledger stand.
Theron may have given away my one chance at gaining Yakim’s favor, but I won’t be that easily defeated. Theron said so himself—sometimes one person is enough.
I analyze Conall and Garrigan. They need rest—but they step back inside the room without a flinch of thought as to their own well-being.
Theron bends closer to me. “Are you all right?”
I don’t look at him. “Leave one of the carriages for me.”
He glances at Giselle, then to me. “You want to speak to her? I could—”
