Page 90 of The Blood Queen

Every single person in the room.

A door on the other side of the hall opens. Mary, Queen of Scots, steps through without fanfare or even announcement.

“Alyth,” she breathes, crossing the room toward me as everyone but the fae remain in their respectful positions. The glaistigs watch coolly as she stops a few feet in front of me.

For a moment, I wonder if Mary is going to embrace me. She looks like she might. We stare at each other for a beat.

It slowly dawns on me that I should be curtsying to her. She is still the queen. My hands twitch to my skirt. Her eyes flick down.

She’s realized it too.

But before I can bow in subservience, she steps forward, cutting me off. “There is much for us to do,” she says, pointedly holding her arm out to me before I can bend my knee, treating me as an equal.

It’s a peace offering, an olive branch I cling to.

We are closer to Captain Cockburn, but I can feel that Mary’s inclined to take us to her generals first. My steps slow, and with a slight frown, she pauses.

“We cannot use your army,” I tell her as Captain Cockburn waits at attention.

Mary frowns. “Our royal sister—”

“She is not your sister,” I say.

Mary’s frown deepens. She and Queen Elizabeth are related by blood…or, well, they would be if the real mortal Elizabeth had not at some point been replaced by the High Blade.

Instead of elaborating on the past, though, I say, “The Red Caps gain strength in war. Every human soldier would just be slaughtered, and the bloodshed and violence would make the Red Caps stronger.”

Mary’s face shifts. “But we have heard reports of towns and villages falling victim to attack.”

“I know,” I say, having already witnessed the aftermath of one slaughter.

“How can I defend my people?” Mary asks, and she sounds almost childlike.

You can’t, I want to say. Only I can.

But Samson was right.

This whole hall is full of people—human, fae, and Leth—who want to help.

Kitty scampers up to me, sheathing her tiny blade and baring her fangs at me in a huge grin. “We’ve been waiting for you, Lady,” Kitty declares proudly, and all the brownies stand tall and straight. Those without fae-crafted weapons have handmade ones, sharp and feral as the brownies’ teeth.

“We’ve been preparing,” Lady Reres, a Leth courtier, says. “And we have helped Queen Mary navigate what aid we can bring and warned her that her human soldiers should be sent as a last resort only.”

“Aye,” Captain Cockburn adds. “Best to send them to aid the villages that were attacked, help with the aftermath rather than feed the Red Caps.”

They wait.

Even Queen Mary.

They are waiting for me to command them.

My heart staggers.

But Samson is there, as always, right beside me, steadying me.

Callum runs up, out of breath. “I’ve sent word to the village,” he says, half to me, half to Samson.

Queen Mary stands silently beside us.