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I did not watch Sampson. My attention fell to my uncle, who grinned at the man’s side. Sampson had little spine and seemed to crave Virki’s regard.

Whatever came through his mouth, I took as the true words of my uncle.

Sampson prowled for the dais but stopped ten paces away. “Is this enough for you to see the melder is nothing but a risk for our clan? A king killer. You wish us to bend the knee?”

His words added a new layer of unease in the chatter, and frantic voices hummed along the tables, against the walls.

I tilted my head, envisioning the ways he would die. A fate like Tomas Grisen with his head spiked atop his own spine? No, perhaps hanging him off the side of a ravine, cutting the rope a little more each day until he died from exposure or the rope split and he fell to the stones below? I could devour his soul, leave him a shell of a man.

“What say you, Bet?” Virki’s dark rumble followed, calm as the tension before a storm reached land.

Dark Watchers rose after my uncle, some already touching the blades on their waists in case the queen gave the word.

When Elisabet stepped in front of us, my grip tightened on Lyra’s wrist, hard enough to bruise. She didn’t pull away.

“What do I say?” My mother’s sharp eyes scanned the crowd. “I say my daughter did exactly what was asked of her by her clan.”

Unexpected. It took focused effort not to look at the queen with befuddlement. Lyra stared at the hall, doubtless trying to do the same.

The queen chuckled with a touch of venom. “You must forgive me for keeping such plans concealed. To remove our prince and his soul bond, to prevent bloodshed that would surely come from King Damir’s plans, we made calculated moves very swiftly. There was not much time, you see. The Jorvan king left us no more than a day before he planned to meld every soul bone in his possession.”

Elisabet hadn’t known such a thing until the deledan told her what King Damir had planned, that to meld such a great number of bones would’ve killed Lyra. What game was my mother playing?

“What are you talking about?” Virki stepped forward. “The úlfur knew nothing of this.”

The queen didn’t flinch as each sweet untruth crossed her lips. “After Lyra was discovered, it became clear a bond had been restored. Our prince would never end the melder, nor would she harm him, so I made the decision to bring the melder to us. Her soul clan. There are times when even our úlfur fall into violent biases. I knew she would need to come here, be seen, be trusted before she would no longer be hunted by our folk.”

Stun kept mouths shut and scrutiny on the queen.

“It was discovered that the Jorvan king had much more sinister plans than we thought. With so many melded Berserkirs, Damir was moving to bring battle against our clans—”

“Then we should have met them!” Virki roared. A few grumbles of agreement followed.

The queen merely laughed. “You think so, Virki? Damir had Lyra Bien bound and trapped, ready to force her craft to bind every one of his warriors—including my son—with those corrupted soul bones. How many of you have battled one of Jorvandal’s Berserkirs? How easily do they meet Salur? To save my clan and find time for a new strategy, I ordered my son’s wife to do what was needed for her people. Unlike so many of you, it seems, she did not question my word.”

Damn the gods. The queen spoke with such finality, such fervor, I nearly believed her deceit to be truth.

Elisabet claimed the battle at Stonegate was her own scheme, all to…protect Lyra.

My thoughts were a tangle of affection and mistrust. Had the queen not said from her own tongue that her moves were rarely known by others?

Virki lifted his chin. “I don’t believe you, Bet.”

“How unsurprising.” The queen shook her head as though disappointed.

“You would not have ordered the death of a king without counseling with the úlfur.”

“She did.” Yanson rose from his place at the front table. Gunter’s tiny sister was in her father’s arm, playing with the beads in his hair. “Our queen counseled with me and Kaysar, seeing as how we were part of the original plan to bring the melder child to Dravenmoor under Vishon’s order. Isn’t that right, Kaysar?”

The twins’ father tipped back his horn a few places away, then said nothing more but “Aye.”

“Gods,” Lyra said under her breath.

I felt the same. It was both heartening and unsettling how easily trusted members of the úlfur lied to the whole of the clan.

“Tell me,” the queen said, “will you stand against my daughter for being as brave as the god-queen herself and slaughtering corruption?”

“If this is true,” Virki went on, “we still face war. Stav Guard will come against us to reach her.”