I offer her a small smile before I say, “I’m heading into town. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Teagan nods before she pulls the lever to raise the portcullis. “Yes, Grandmaster.”
Hearing her throw the title out so casually sends a rush of emotion through me. That feeling of the too-big bite returns, and I quickly chew through the pride, the doubt as I head across the drawbridge to meet Symon.
The ride into town passes quickly, and far too soon I exit the carriage in front of the palace. The guards at the entrance glimpse thespells around my neck before they straighten. I harden my resolve and say, “Interim Grandmaster of the Crux Galiva Qamari requests an audience with Her Majesty, Queen Tramella.”
The guards look me over before one disappears without a word. I’m left to wait with the other, but not for long. Only a few minutes later, the guard returns and says, “Please follow me, Grandmaster.”
There it is again. The doubt strikes so hard that my steps nearly falter, but I’ve already set myself on this course. It’s too late to turn back now. I just hope the Queen is as receptive to this meeting as I anticipated.
The guard leads me through the palace to the meeting room that has become all too familiar recently. Inside, Queen Tramella waits at the far end of the table, sitting where the King was the last time I was here. There are echoes of him in her features - the same narrow face, the same ice-blue eyes. Her hair is the same dark brown, though hers is streaked with gray.
I bow low before she says, “Sit.”
As I do, her scrutinizing gaze rakes over me, and I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt so small. I’m convinced that showing up like this was a misstep, but then the Queen says, “I’m grateful I didn’t have to summon you.” I’m barely allowed a breath of relief before she adds, “I’d like to get this unpleasantness out of the way quickly.”
Her fierce blue eyes focus on me like a drawn bow. “I was told that Reneta of the Taranso and the loyal wizards of the Eastern Tower were intercepted by hostile forces on their journey to the Crux. While the loss of twenty-three capable wizards frustrates megreatly, I do not believe that Reneta was any more of a suitable candidate for Grandmaster of the Crux than you are. But of course, it’s so like Arlon Kalisson to provide such objectionable options for his replacement.”
The frankness of it all stuns me, but I rein my anger in, schooling it behind a neutral face.
“Yet with the Tower wizards’ fates now in the hands of Immenbach, I am left with only the sister of the traitor that put them there in the first place,” the Queen continues. “Now, I need to determine how deep that traitor’s stain penetrates your bloodline.”
I take a steadying breath. This is expected criticism, but it still feels like a slap to the face to hear it. “My sister’s actions at the Tower are unforgivable, Your Majesty. She acted without regard to the longstanding alliance between Straetham and Kenitka, without regard to anything beyond her own interests.”
It feels callous to say it, but it was Demica’s emotional entanglements that led to this mess. Her worries for our family’s financial wellbeing caused her to make the traitorous alliance with the Immen Crown. Her fears for her daughter’s safety are what made her continue the treason long after the situation left her control. Yet at the thought of my niece Marica, my heart aches all over again.
I draw in a steadying breath as I force that thought aside. One thing at a time.
“No, Demica is a traitor to Kenitka, to the Crux, and to Straetham,” I say. “She has dug her own grave. I pray you give me the chance to not be buried with her.”
Tramella looks me over before she says, “I don’t care for magic. It’s a power given without a care for status or standing in the world. It can cause great damage, bring about great good, yet both of those outcomes are dictated by the morality of the person wielding it. It is a fickle sort of gift, one that saved my son from the fever while simultaneously failing to save my husband. So tell me, areyouthe proper, morally upstanding, and reliable choice to wield it for the Kingdom of Straetham?”
For a moment, I’m not sure what to say. Is this a chance to plead my case? Beg for her to even consider me? Yet only my casting partners know what it takes to get me to beg, and I refuse to do it here.
“That is a decision only you and your royal son can make, Your Majesty,” I say carefully. “I am only heading the Crux in Grandmaster Kalisson’s absence for the time being, but that’s not to say I am content to warm his seat. There is a glaring problem that Arlon has not addressed that I would see fixed.”
The Queen looks intrigued by that. “Oh?”
“I want to restore the Crown and the people of Straetham’s trust in magic.”
For a moment, the Queen seems genuinely surprised. “A lofty goal with the damage that has been done,” she says at last. “How?”
The answer is still murky, a vague idea that I haven’t been able to bring fully to the surface yet. But I can’t let Tramella see me falter. “The details are not fully formed yet, Your Majesty, and I wouldn’t waste your time with speculation and hopes. I would rather bring you something material once my plans are ready.”
“And how long will that take?” Tramella asks, her skepticism plain. “Perhaps just long enough for Arlon Kalisson to return, and your position as interim Grandmaster to end?”
I school my face to neutrality. She thinks I’ve got nothing. Thinks I’m stalling until I can pass the problem back to Arlon. I aim to prove her wrong.
“Give me until the end of the week, Your Majesty,” I say. “I will have a full proposal outlined for your approval.”
The crease between her eyebrows softens a bit. Oh, she likes that. Likes feeling involved. I may be stepping on my own foot though, because if she hates what I come up with, she can shoot it down before it even has a chance. I choose not to think about that right now.
One thing at atime, Galiva.
“Alright then, Grandmaster,” she says at last. “You have until the end of the week to give me a full proposal.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
