Page 35 of The Silversmith

“This… Commencement.” I took a sip of my tea, allowing myself to be soothed by the trail of glorious warmth from my throat to my chest. “Does it happen every year? And you have to be eighteen?”

Finn nodded. “We’ve all done it.”

“Well, I’m eighteen, almost nineteen, and I haven’t done it.”

Caz chuckled. “You don’t have to, Ary. You’re the queen.”

“That’s horseshit.”

Finn choked on his beer. Gemma and Ezra echoed each other’s surprised laughter.

“Language!” Caz gasped.

I pushed on, fueled by flames of defiance. “They’re training to put their lives on the line and fight for a cause I’m meant to lead, and I’m not even expected to undergo the basic right of passage to be in my own army?”

Everyone but Gavin stared at me like I had sprouted an extra limb. He, on the other hand, appeared all too pleased, that addictive half-smile lighting up his ruggedly handsome face. The scar over his right eye crinkled. He looked… proud.

“You’ll teach me, won’t you?” I said to him from across the table. “Make me good enough to beat Elias Winterton?” Perhaps it was bold to consider I could ever reach the level where Elias Winterton, army commander, felt the need to insert himself into my trial in the end stage. But maybe with my power…

Gavin arched an eyebrow and said, “I can think of no better way to spend my days than training you to pummel that pompous shit into a pulp.”

Ezra scowled and rolled his blue eyes. “You’ve never even met Elias.”

“Don’t need to,” Gavin replied coolly, sipping his whiskey.

Caz snorted. Ezra shot an angry glare in my wolf slayer’s direction, ever loyal to his friendship with my betrothed. And it wasn’t that I wouldn’t try to keep an open mind—because I would—or be kind, or do my damndest to be a queen for these people. But sitting on my throne while my people did everything for me didn’t sound appealing. To prove myself to them, I needed to be just as skilled as they were, if not more so.

“You seem quite a bit more enthusiastic than you did just days ago.” Gemma’s face was peppered with worry. “What changed?”

I shrugged. “If it’s been set in stone by the gods, let it be. I was born into it. Maybe I didn’t ask to be born, but I was.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Caz sipped his beer and threw a mischievous half-smile my way. “Though one look at you, and Elias Winterton will be praising the day you were.”

Heat filled my cheeks. Not because of the lighthearted teasing but because out of the corner of my eye, I caught Gavin shooting daggers at Caz. And—though I couldn’t be entirely sure due to the clamorous sound of good-hearted laughter at our table and all around the tavern—I thought I heard him snarl.

“What would Marin think of that, hmm?” Gemma shot Caz a look. “Hearing you admire another?”

“Admire!” Caz laughed and tipped his glass at me. “How could I not? Look at the girl! Face of an angel.” I flinched. “Marin would’ve said it herself and slapped me for denying it. In fact, I think she might leave me for our queen the moment she sees her.”

Finn rolled his eyes. Ezra groaned and buried his face in his hands. I heartily echoed the sentiment, wishing I could erect a shell and crawl inside it forever. Or at least until the end of this conversation.

“What I’m trying to say is…” I cleared my throat, beet red and desperate to make my point and move on. “I can either sit here and mope that things look difficult and terrifying, or I can do something about it. And I certainly will not do nothing while everyone else does something about it.”

I saw the corner of Gavin’s mouth curl upward into another smirk, rich with pride. If he wasn’t careful, his ever-present scowl might turn into something a bit more benign.

“I’m sure you can participate in Commencement, Ary,” Gemma consoled me, smiling. “You might have a difficult time convincing Elias, but you are the queen.”

Our food arrived minutes later, causing a comfortable silence to descend upon our group as we refueled from the past two days of travel. After we ate, the others continued with their stories for another hour or two until chatter and laughter was replaced with heavy eyelids and languid yawns.

The room—only one—was small, but we all squeezed in. Gemma and I were forced to take the only bed. All four men insisted they could sleep on the floor. Caz and Finn both snored, which kept me awake late into the night. Though admittedly, I felt secure with them all so near. Being alone in that house had worn me down more than I realized.

As I lay in bed beside Gemma, tucked beneath my violet-and-maroon quilt, I tried not to focus on the implication that Elias Winterton might try to discourage me from proving myself to him and to members of his army. Did he not want his wife to fight? How could I not, with my potential power? Because of that power, did he feel threatened? I didn’t consider myself above Commencement. The need for control and ability drove me through each training session with Gavin. I had gone so long without both, and now that I felt a sliver of each, I wouldn’t let them go. I needed to know I could hold my own amongst my people. How else could I feel validated in my position, both to them and myself?

I decided then that I would become one of them before I could lead them. Somehow, I would earn their trust, their honor. If we were to defeat Molochai—and if he was as evil and powerful as the others let on—I needed my people as much as they needed me.

If not more.

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