“You must be–”
“Princess Elspeth, Second Born of Veiled King Vardis of Wynterborne.”
He studied me with a glint in his eye as he leaned on the arm of his throne, tapping a finger against his lips. “So it’s true, then. You live.”
“Unlike our ambassador, Piers of Gortyte,” I shot back, hoping my gaze reflected my anger and not the insecurity of my station.
“Ah.” He shifted, straightening his posture.
I followed his gaze toward the front of the crowd. There sat a woman with sharp cheekbones and perfect lips pursed tight. The only thing soft about her was the swell of her belly. Her kohl-lined eyes, an alarming blue, contrasted sharply with her dark complexion. A thin golden tiara marked her as royalty.
Bastard royalty.
There lay the reason for Piers’ death.
“Have you come to apologize for his treasonous actions?” King Reid glanced over the crowd before his steady gaze settled on me again.
I recognized cold cruelty well enough from Adastrus to read the nervous edge to this king’s actions.
“Rather, I would begyourapology.”
Murmurs drifted through the mass as I continued, my voice carrying through the chamber, “Our ambassador was promised protection, shelter, and provisions in exchange for an alliance between our nations. Piers of Gortyte was a citizen of Wynterborne, not Gladier. He was ours, and you sent his head back to his mourning mother. You’ve committed an act of war against our people.”
Shocked gasps reverberated through the room, tension spiking so high it was palpable in theair.
“You believe attacking my daughter—raping her and filling her belly with cursed Wynterborne seed was not an act of war againstmypeople?!” His baritone voice roared over the crowd’s rippling distress.
“I think you needed a scapegoat, dear king, and I believe you chose poorly.”
“You call me a liar?” he seethed.
Beside me stood Sainte, a pillar of steadiness amidst my nervous trembles. My hands quivered, refusing to be stilled, yet I clenched them against the urge to adjust my dress.
“I call you a fool.”
“Take them away!”
Guards sprang into action, and the room erupted into chaos as they scrambled toward us. Nobles shouted over one another while two of my soldiers drew their weapons.
Calmly, I extended my left palm.
Sainte placed a weighty gauntlet in it, the metal cool against my skin.
King Reid observed the exchange with suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.
“Ach neight duan tiel!” I called above the din, then tossed the gauntlet at the king’s feet.
Everyone froze at my words, and the cacophony fell into immediate and absolute silence. The guards’ gazes shifted between the king and me. Kaen’s warning flitted through my thoughts—this was the tricky part. I had to goad King Reid into action, rise to the bait. He was no fool, no matter how I accused him.
He scoffed, the sound dripping with disbelief. “You dare challenge me? Risk all-out war?”
“You’ve ventured into that realm already, Your Majesty. I’m simply offering you a scapegoat.”
His eyes darkened, a dangerous glint flickering within as he leaned forward, holding my gaze. Kaen advised this plan for the same reason Anderz had me request a Valahant in the Hall of Receiving. With the crowd, the king would find himself cornered, compelled to respond to my challenge.
“My daughter’s honor has been tarnished.”
I highly doubted that. Based on her swollen belly, this was a misstep from months past, and Piers likely spoke out of turn, then suffered for her sake.
