“Betrayed?That’s a little... dramatic, don’t you think?” Again, that smile lit up Councillor Silva’s face—but not her eyes. “This is how things are done in Firgaard: carefully and meticulously. If you’re going to be our queen, you will need to get used to our ways.”
She turned back to the council, dismissing Roa.
“Yourwaysare unjust.” Roa’s voice rang out clear in the Assembly.
The air went cold. The room fell to silence.
Dax reached for her wrist in warning. Roa jerked away.
Councillor Silva turned back.
“It’s because of draksors that my people have been slowly starving to death,” Roa continued. “So forgive me if I don’t quite trust the draksorway.”
Councillor Silva looked to Dax. “Is it the scrublander way to blame everyone else for their problems?”
The crowd nodded and murmured their assent.
The statement shocked Roa. Is this how they thought of her? Of her people?
“Trust goes both ways, my queen,” Councillor Silva said. “When a scrublander blackmails our king into marrying her, we’d be naïve to think she has anything but her own interests at heart.” She turned back to the council. “This Assembly is finished for today.”
“Actually,” said Dax from beside Roa, “there is one more thing.”
All the councillors now rising from their seats paused halfway to their feet.
Roa glanced at her husband, daring to hope that he’d changed his mind. That he intended todosomething.
“This year, as a sign of our goodwill toward the scrublands, Firgaard will celebrate the Relinquishing.”
A confused quiet followed these words.
Even Roa was perplexed.
The Relinquishing was a scrublander holiday. Why would Firgaard celebrate it?
“What this kingdom needs is unity,” Dax went on, smiling as he did. “And what better way to bring us together than a celebration?”
A celebration of what?thought Roa bitterly.How useless you are?
Dax wasn’t interested in goodwill toward scrublanders, nor was he invested in a unified kingdom. He’d just proven this by bending to his council’s demands instead of upholding his promises.
So why celebrate the Relinquishing?
A few councillors spoke quietly amongst themselves, away from the rest of the council. Roa watched them, listening hard.
He loves to indulge in fine things,she heard one of them say.What better way to indulge than with a celebration?
Roa frowned, looking back to the king.
Was that what this was? Was Dax giving the scrublands a token gesture of goodwill, while simultaneously giving himself an excuse to drink expensive wine, seduce pretty women, and distract himself from the things that really mattered?
Roa didn’t want to believe it. But she hadn’t wanted to believe he would buckle under his council’s pressure, either. And he did.
“Draksors don’t celebrate the Relinquishing,” Councillor Silva said, her voice cold and hard as ice, breaking up the clamor.
“We do now,” Dax said, looking to Jas, who nodded from his place against the wall next to Lirabel. “I’ve just declared it. Invitations have been sent to all the Great Houses. The north and south gates will remain open for the next seven days to allow for safe passage into and out of the city.”
Councillor Silva’s gaze narrowed on the king like a dragon on its prey. She stepped away from her seat, her indigo silks swishing as she stalked toward him.
