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“I’m aware.”
“Well, then, why aren’t you practicing your speech?” She extracted a folded cluster of paper from her skirt pocket. “I found these in your chambers, and not in your hands as they should be.”
She thrust them against my chest, and I grabbed the paper reflexively.
“And why were you in my chambers?” I queried over the crinkle of paper.
“Looking for you, of course.”
“Mother,” I said, a sigh making the word sound harsher than I’d intended. “We’ve spoken about this. You cannot enter my chambers without permission.”
“Of course I can,” she scoffed. “I am Queen.”
I stifled the urge to slap myself in the head with the papers in my hand.
“And you are my only heir,” she continued. “We need to make a statement this evening. You’re going to establish yourself as Vetri’s next ruler—and you’re going to do it with gusto. Do you hear me?”
“Gusto?” I echoed, the mountain wind whipping the word away as quickly as it left my lips.
“Yes,” she said with a curt nod. “I willnothave your moniker be something silly and powerless likeOlympia the Meek. You are royalty, dear child, and you need to act like one. No more burying yourself in books and papers. No more hiding in the gardens. And certainlyno more meditations!”
She stepped close, tilting her head up to meet my gaze. The gold belt around her waist shifted and clinked in the silence.
We were Alphas, she and I, although I had gained my height from my late father, the High Consort. Mother had been incredibly ecstatic with what she considered myimposing heightuntil it became clear that there was nothingimposingabout me.
Sapphire eyes just a shade darker than mine came alive with determination in the first tendrils of early morning sun.
I barreled ahead before she could say another word. “Mother, you know speeches aren’t my strong suit.”
“You can never be strong without sufficient practice,” she retorted, making my shoulders droop just a little. A swift smack landed on my collarbones, and I adjusted my posture to her liking.
“And do you believe Zoei Highblade’s coronation would be the best place to practice something I am woefully horrible at?”
“Never end a sentence with a preposition,” she scolded. “And yes, Zoei Highblade is a force of nature. She is highly respected by her subjects for her fire bending skills. We cannot look weak in front of the new King of Agnivale. Do you hear me?”
When I failed to respond, she pressed forth. “Once I retire, you will be the next queen of Vetri. It is only fitting that you extend an olive branch to Agnivale after all these years of political turmoil.”
My gaze locked with mother’s. “I can’t recall—what exactly started the tensions between Vetri and Agnivale?”
A thunderstorm brewed in mother’s eyes, and I knew I had slammed downhardon a button I would heartily regret. It was a cruel, heartless move in the chessboard of our conversation—a needle sliding into place below her breastbone. I hadn’t thought myself capable of such verbal ruthlessness, but this once again proved that I was my mother’s child, after all.
The circumstances around the cessation of treaties between Vetri and Agnivale two decades ago were circumspect at best. Overnight, several signed contracts that had been in place for generations had been nullified by both parties—if not amicably, then with a muted degree of hostility.
I’d heard the whispers, of course. Even as a child just shy of my teens, I understood the wordsaffairandcaught in the actjust fine.
The canceled treaties were a result of mother’s bruised ego. But if she had been as cold in her marriage as she was in court, I believed I could forgive my father for his indiscretions with the High Consort of Agnivale.
Although Mother had tried to pardon him over the years, forgiveness hadn’t come easy. And their marriage had suffered terribly in the years leading up to Father’s death.
Perhaps it was an ancestral curse. The Summerstreams were not known to be an aggressive clan, but we carried fierce grudges, and forgiveness had never been our forte, even with ones we loved…especiallywith ones we loved.
If it hadn’t been for Father’s passing, I doubted we would’ve proposed to reinstate the trade treaties with Agnivale again. It was an olive branch, as it were, to repair the frayed relationship.
Mother took a deep breath, and the brewing storm in her gaze was wiped away with the skill of a seasoned politician.
Her voice was low and controlled when she spoke, dodging my cursed needling. “Queens do not have the luxury of choice—you would be smart to remember that.”
I glanced down at the creased papers in my hands. Mother’s speechwriters had been working tirelessly on this for weeks. Each carefully crafted word and every artful pause had been committed to memory, but…
