And she’d convinced herself a peaceful takeover would be the first step into Breicher’s heart. She’d make his people love her, and he’d be her king, ruling beside her, reinforcing the union of their kingdoms. A feat no one believed was possible. But a creature who was practically a God themselves had never attempted it. Caroline would achieve the impossible. She knew it, like she knew the sun would rise.
Several stiff steps later, Breicher approached his brother’s throne. He positioned himself in front of it and threw an apologetic look at Hollis, the demoted prince. The look of his brother’s eyes was unreadable. The moment they were alone he’d explain everything, he promised himself.
There had to be some way out of this.
Breicher looked to the vacant heavens, then sat himself upon the throne of Veetula. The fates were funny indeed.
“Yes, I think it is much better suited to you, my love.” Caroline’s voice was unnecessarily loud as the crowd sat in stunned silence. Gasps sounded here and there over the room as the implication sunk in. Her heels clicked across the dais as she passed in front of him and approached Agnes, still on her knees.
Caroline held out an upturned hand to the other woman. Shit, he’d seen where this had gone before. His future wife didn’t know how to make friends. Only enemies, or wary acquaintances. “You may rise.”
She must have lifted her compulsion, because Agnes gingerly rose to her feet smoothing out her sunshine-yellow silk gown, shifting her narrow hips, appearing to move away the stiffness. Her red lower lip quivered as she raised her eyes to meet Caroline’s. Though Agna looked like she wanted to be anywhere other than here losing her crown, she won the battle for control she was wrestling and took Caroline’s hand.
Agnes wasn’t an Ivanslohe, so she didn’t have the benefit of the vitality the line possessed. She bore Hollis four darling children, and one, Cecily, who thank the dead Gods wasn’t here, when she wasn’t exactly early in her youth. He expected her legs must have ached from kneeling through Caroline’s production.
It took everything in him not to interfere, knowing it would only be worse for them if he did. An injury or worse bestowed upon them, which was really intended as a punishment for him.
His breath caught as Agnes’s knuckles went white around the queen’s grip. He burst from the throne and made two bounding steps toward the women, but stopped short when Agnes released a shuddering sigh.
Agnes’s big green eyes blinked at Caroline. “How did you do that?”
Breicher glanced at Hollis, who was being held back by Caroline’s power. His tan skin becoming wan and slick with sweat as he fought to get to his wife.
“It’s something I’ve been working on since I took it from the Gods. They were always able to heal me, so I figured if I had their power, I might be able to do the same. How do you feel now?”
“I’ve learned to endure the needles in my hips years ago. But the pain is gone.”
“I don’t wish us to be enemies, Princess Agnes. I’m not here to destroy you, or your husband, as our families have done to each other for hundreds of years. I want your strength beside me. I will give you two weeks to consider my offer of friendship. I will expect your answer before the ceremony.”
Caroline turned to the crowd and raised her voice. “In two weeks, Prince Breicher and I will wed on this very stage. I expect full attendance. You do not want me to interpret your absence as dissention because there is one thing that’s painfully true about my reputation. I will not hesitate to punish you.”
She surveyed them as murmurs erupted. His brother rushed over to Agnes, throwing defensive arms around her. Their son Jaden, his nephew, who was about Caroline’s age, ran forward to join their embrace, eyeing Caroline warily. The boy had become a man in the years since he’d seen him. Clearly an Ivanslohe, but he had a finer bone structure and a slightly upturned nose, like his mother. Same deep-set sapphire eyes, deep brown hair, and broad shoulders though. His lips, which were wide, somewhere between the fullness of his father’s and the thinness of his mother’s, were quirked up at the edges as if this unexpected turn of events might amuse him. Even as a boy, Jaden was different, always seeming to have another script playing out inside that calculating head of his.
The queen looked over at the family, and Breicher swore there was a longing glint in her eye. She exhaled loudly. “You’re dismissed.” The crowd rose and hastily made their way out of the Great Hall. She cocked her head at a quizzical angle as the mashup of bodies fled. Angus stepped up beside her and was standing at her right like the dutiful commander he was.
“That went well,” Angus said. “You’d think with as many waxen faces, we had a mass execution.”
“They believed they were safe, Angus. Can you imagine how difficult it would be to take this stronghold with brute force?” Caroline absently rubbed the spot under her ribs where he’d driven the rosenwood dagger.
“I don’t think they’ll work on me anymore, but we better not leave it to chance. Burn all the rosenwood trees. I want every single tree, seeds, saplings, burned. Anything made for the gods awful wood, in the fire.”
The guards stood, clearly unsure of what to do.
“You heard your queen,” Angus snapped.
The one who held the highest rank shot a wary look toward Hollis, then started barking orders to the men.
Hollis was smart enough not to signal the man his approval of the order and trigger Caroline’s ire.
Caroline scanned the room, her brow creasing. “Agnes, don’t you have a little daughter? She’d be about ten now, right? Where is she?”
Agnes blanched. “She’s away, visiting cousins, Your Majesty.”
His sister-in-law was lying, probably hoping to shield the girl from the queen there were so many frightful rumors about. The truth was children were never permitted to attend the solstice party. They had activities planned for them throughout the day, then they were sent to early beds. Solstice was for the adults and the type of entertainment they liked to engage in wasn’t appropriate for kids.
“Well, call her back. She can be my flower girl.” She turned to him, nostrils flaring. “Come, Prince Breicher. I’d like the tour you promised.”
Caroline waved a hand, and the remaining crowd parted. She strode through the center toward the doors, not looking back to see if he followed. Breicher shot an apologetic look to his brother, then chased his future wife out of the room.
