The king stood with the suddenness of a lightning strike. Aria wished she’d climbed the dais before speaking, wished she didn’t feel him bearing down from such a height, as if she were the one sinking in the ground while he stood tall.
“I know—”
“You have betrayed me,” her father said, speaking right over her words. “It was not enough to confine you to the castle, I see. To your room, then, with guards posted outside at every moment. You will not leave it until this business with Morton is concluded, once and for all.”
“No,listento me. Charlie—”
“You will not speak!” he thundered. “You have lost your voice in this court, Aria. I can no longer trust it.”
“You never trusted it from the start! You have demanded perfection of me all my life, and I have tried to deliver but fallen short every time!”
Controlled temper, said Baron in her mind, but her words were already galloping, and she could not find the reins.
“Everything I’ve ever done has been a mistake to you, and I’ve never even figured out who I want to be as queen because I’ve been so busy chasing thisimpossiblepuzzle of trying to be what you want! I can’t be. I can’t. Because what you want is law without mercy, and I don’t.”
She gasped in a breath, having gone too long without air, and it seemed not just to fill her lungs but her soul. Like breathing in truth.
Her hands caught the reins at last.
“This is a mistake,” she said. “Losing my temper. I admit my mistakes, Father. It was a mistake for me to go to Northglen. I wanted peace, but my attempt at it was selfish. When the Upper Court dismissed my concerns, I determined to solve things myself, toprove my rightness, when I should have raised my concerns again—andagain,if I had to—until I was sure they were heard. Until the council functioned properly in considering the best path for the kingdom. Because what’srightisn’t selfish.”
She looked up, not at her father, but at his advisers. “I wish to petition Widow Morton again for peace. I still believe it can be reached. I still believeshecan be reached, and I know with all my heart thatpeaceis what’s best foreveryonein our kingdom.”
Things were different this time. Aria knew her enemy, and she was not hoping to prove herself a worthy ruler; she was only hoping to save lives—her own and others. The details of Widow Morton’s curse had mystified her from the start. Why put everyone in the castle to sleep but make only one strike at night,one that was more warning than true threat? Why sentence the king’s line to death but draw it out for one hundred days?
Widow Morton wanted peace too. At least some part of her did, the part that delayed, even now.
Silence had fallen in the throne room. Aria’s father had composed himself, though the hold on his rage seemed tenuous, and she could see in his clenched jaw how near the surface it still simmered.
“I have given my command,” the king said, looking to the guards, to his advisers, to her, daring anyone to contradict. “Guards, take my daughter to her room. Ensure she remains there. There will be no petition to Northglen, only an attack I have put off far too long. No small force of soldiers this time. If it takes the whole army, so be it. I want them mobilized in three days.”
The guards and advisers stood pale-faced and silent. Aria caught Philip’s eyes, his expression troubled. After a moment, he spoke.
“Your Majesty, I wish to consider Her Highness’s request. Considering the circumstances, I don’t believe she would suggest another negotiation with Morton if such a thing held no hope.”
Joy rose inside Aria, bursting out in a smile.
The king pointed at Lord Philip, a lance of condemnation. “Her Highnessis compromised by her curse. She suggests negotiation only as Morton’s puppet, because the widow wishes us to be weak, to continue vacillating while she gathers power.”
Lord Emmett spoke hesitantly, “Highness, can you prove Morton has no ability to direct you?”
“I don’t know how I would prove that, Lord Emmett. I can only ask for you to consider the best path forward.” With another glance at the setting sun, Aria added, “And I can say that I have a better understanding of the situation than anyone here.”
“Guards,” said the king, gesturing sharply.
“You may want to find a comfortable position,” said Aria. “And a pillow.”
The guards took only a step forward before their expressions glazed. Everyone in the room staggered and slumped, gripped beneath the sleeping Cast.
As the entire room collapsed, Aria stood tall.
She could do this. But this time, she would start with a plan, and it was not just a plan against Widow Morton she needed; it was one against her father. In three days, he would start a war, which meant she had two to stop it. One night to prepare.
On the next, she would return to Northglen, and no matter the outcome, her fate would be decided, along with her entire kingdom’s.
I’m going back to Northglen.
The words haunted Baron. His own response haunted him even more.
