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“All, Your Highness?” Boaz falters as if he might have misheard me. “Where should we put them?”
“In the west wing ballroom. They are to remain there until after Hudem.”
He dips his head. “By your order.”
“Now, let us take care of this business.” I steel my spine and lift my chin.
“Be alert, stay vigilant, and act without hesitation,” Boaz commands his guards as the soldiers manning the doors heave them open. The buzz inside cuts off instantly. “All rise for King Atticus Ascelin, Fifth Ruler of Islor!” he bellows, leading the entourage.
We stroll down the aisle, the only sound within the throne room the pounding of metal boots against the marble. Boaz stops front and center, grip firmly on his pommel. His hand-selected guards fan out, following suit. The assembly never has this many soldiers present, and based on the wary expressions, it’s left everyone unsettled about what’s going on.
Or perhaps that’s their guilt revealing itself. How many are involved in this scheming?
My sword weighs on my hip. I feel the urge to draw it.
Annika sits in one of two chairs set at the bottom step, facing the rows, her eyes spitting daggers at me.
I see the news I delivered this morning about her betrothal still irks her. “Remind me not to leave my sister alone with her future husband when they meet. She’s likely to slit his throat.”
Kazimir snorts.
“Annika.” I nod as I pass her.
“Your Highness,” she pushes out through gritted teeth.
With a smirk, I start to climb the steps, but then decide I should be at eye level for this. “Thank you for gathering,” I begin with a fake cordial tone. But my head pounds. I’m in no mood for dancing with politics anymore. “Queen Neilina plans to cross the rift on Hudem with a great army of Ybarisans and casters, to claim Islor’s lands.”
A rush of voices fills the throne room as panic explodes.
“Silence!” Boaz bellows and the noise dies down.
“Your Highness, if I may.” Adley steps forward, and my molars gnash. “How did you receive such concerning news?” I hear what he doesn’t ask—why is he hearing about this with the general assembly and not before? As if he’s entitled to private updates.
“From Queen Neilina herself,” I lie without flinching, knowing that admitting the truth of my source is not an option. “Did you not see the taillok that arrived this morning?”
His expression hardens. The news that I had all day to enlighten him and I didn’t will grate on his nerves.
That is the least of his worries.
“We knew this was likely coming, and we cannot ignore this threat. I have already dispatched orders to Bellcross to move for the rift immediately.” Regardless of where Rengard’s allegiances hang between my brother and me, he will respond to this, I know it. “As well, I have ordered Lord Telor to relocate his soldiers there.”
“But Telor is hunting the exiled king and princess!” Someone in the crowd exclaims. I can’t find its owner, the stir of voices drowning out anything intelligible.
I expect Boaz to bark for order again, but it is Saoirse who steps out from her place in the front row, holding her hands up for quiet. “Princess Romeria has already done all the damage she can,” she hollers over the noise. The crowd quiets as they wait curiously to hear their future queen speak. “Those traitors hide in the mountains, powerless. They do not present further threat to Islor.”
I wouldn’t be so sure of that. What will all these lords and ladies do if one day they wake and their fangs don’t drop, if the laws this realm has abided by for two thousand years no longer apply, the structure for power over mortals crumbles? They are greedy nobility, comfortable in their way of life. Will they consider this a blessing or a new curse?
I’m not even sure what I think about it, but I would expect rebellion—first from the mortals, and then from my kind.
“His Highness’s decision to send all available soldiers north is a wise call. We must not ignore real threats from our Ybarisan enemies.” She dips her head to acknowledge me and smiles.
Bravo. I resist the urge to clap at her performance. “Surely, we must not ignore real threats, Lady Saoirse. They are all around us now.”
Her smile wavers.
“Yes, certainly,” Adley speaks up, finding his tongue again. “The east’s army stationed outside Cirilea’s walls will prepare to march. I will speak to them at once, Your Highness, if you’ll inform the guards at the gate to allow me passage out.”
Another move I anticipated. “No need. I gave them the order several hours ago, and they have already begun their march north.” Before Adley had a chance to counter my plans by doing something as foolish as sending them east to shore up defenses there.
