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The girl. The girl.The words bounced around in Thea’s mind like a persistent headache, but she remained quiet.
‘However,’ King Leiko continued. ‘You cannot vouch for her alone. It would mean you have a vested interest in Thezmarr, and Thezmarr was and always will be, an independent territory from the kingdoms of the midrealms.’
Thea watched on, as yet again she was talked about and notto. As yet again, men decided her future. As she fiddled with her sleeve, she remembered the Warsword whose shirt she wore… He was where he had been the whole time, stationed by the exit at the far end of the room, his hand on the hilt ofherdagger, watching on without a hint of emotion on his harsh face.
‘You do not think it reasonable for me to reward the woman who saved my life?’ Artos argued.
‘Not if it interferes with Thezmarr,’ King Leiko bit back.
It was Queen Reyna of Aveum who spoke next, gracefully rising from her chair and turning to address both rulers. ‘I vote with King Artos. The young woman has proven her worth. She would make a fine addition to the guild’s recruits.’
Thea’s chest was about to burst. She hardly dared to look from one ruler to the next, so sure that she had misheard the words she had spoken, that this was all some elaborate figment of her desperate imagination.
‘As do I,’ Queen Reyna’s husband, the quiet King Elkan voiced from her side.
King Leiko of Tver’s gaze fell to her. The pause seemed to last forever before he spoke again. ‘So be it.’
King Artos beamed as he turned to Thea. ‘Congratulations, Althea Zoltaire,’ he said. ‘You’ve just become the newest shieldbearer of Thezmarr.’
Thea’s legs buckled so badly she had to steady herself on the back of a chair.
‘You have all the rights a shieldbearer has. You may train, bear arms and partake in the initiation test to become a Guardian of the midrealms upon the next season.’
Slowly, he began to clap and soon, the entire great hall was on its feet, applauding her. At the king’s signal, fresh wine was brought in, as were new cupbearers for the royals. Upon confirmation that the liquor was indeed safe to drink, King Artos raised his goblet to Thea, who found a cup pressed into her own hand.
‘To Althea Zoltaire,’ the king toasted.
Althea could not contain the grin that split across her face. Never in her twenty-four years had she ever imagined hearing her name being echoed back to her in salute through royal halls. Warmth radiated through her body, along with the hum of her racing heart. She wished Wren and the others were here to see this.
Althea Nine Lives, she laughed silently, raising her own goblet to her lips.
No sooner had the delicious wine hit her tongue, a heavy hand grasped her shoulder, gentle but firm, its heat penetrating the thin fabric of her shirt.
‘Well,shieldbearer,’ that familiar deep voice rumbled in the shell of her ear. ‘We need to get back to the fortress.’
‘Now?’ Thea turned to face the Warsword. ‘I thought you said we were staying in Hailford for the night?’
‘That was before.’
‘Before I became a shieldbearer of Thezmarr?’ Thea grinned.
A muscle twitched in Hawthorne’s jaw.
‘Wilder,’ King Artos greeted the Warsword. ‘Please, join us!’
But to Thea’s disbelief, Hawthorne was already shaking his head. ‘My thanks, Sire. But duty calls us back to Thezmarr.’
If the king was surprised, he did not show it. Instead, he raised his goblet again, this time to Hawthorne. ‘We arehonoured to host you, even so briefly, Warsword. And I thank you for your role in my assassin’s capture.’
Hawthorne bowed and made for the doors.
‘Thank you, Your Majesties,’ Thea blurted, bowing low before chasing after the warrior.
When they were out in the foyer, Thea turned to Hawthorne. ‘I thought you said “if the king invites you to sit at his table, you sit at his table”?’
Hawthorne kept walking. ‘That’s true enough,for you. I, however, answer to no king.’
The sheer arrogance in that statement heated Thea’s blood in more ways than one. But she unclenched her fists at her sides, vowing that one day, she would be able to say the same.
