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“You should be more careful. The Queen of Secrets has ears everywhere,” the male voice said.
The pulse just below Veyka’s temple began to tick.
She really hated that name.
Several seconds of silence, the splash of more wine, then Esa spoke again: “She’s too easily swayed. We need to get her back. The more time she spends with the Brutal Prince—”
“Who will be our king in a few weeks’ time.” A slight shift in the temperature. I glanced to where the sun ought to be dipping near the horizon. But it was obscured now in clouds—clouds that had come in unnaturally fast.
The male had storm magic, and powerful at that.
“What of it?” Esa drawled.
“He’s made it clear he intends to rule.”
I imagined the male counterpart shrugging. I couldn’t recall his name, though I saw his face in my mind clearly enough. He was hulking, powerfully built, the sides of his head shaved and a long, dark braid that draped straight down his back.
The female sniffed haughtily. “He’s done nothing of the sort. He wants power? I can give him the illusion of that. He’s a battlefield commander, not a king. Let’s give him a battlefield to go command.”
A soft rumble of thunder in the distance. “You mean to start a war.”
“If necessary.”
Ancestors, Esa sounded almost bored. As if she wasn’t suggesting treason, ripping apart Annwyn’s fragile peace. I wished I could see Veyka’s face, to judge whether any of this bothered her at all or if she was merely waiting for Arthur to come up in the conversation.
Several beats of silence passed. More wine being poured.
It was Esa who broke it, her voice carefully measured. “Many a high king or queen of Annwyn has left their royal council in charge while they ride at the head of their armies.”
The male was silent. So far, other than entertaining this conversation, he’d done nothing to explicitly incriminate himself. Crafty, just like his elemental brethren had surely trained him to be.
I, however, was ready to draw the dagger tucked in my boot and start slashing throats.
I must have shifted without realizing it, because Veyka’s fingers closed around my wrist. A silent command to hold my tongue and my place.
“You still might not get what you want,” the male finally said.
Teo.
The name flashed from the recesses of my mind.
“Do we leverage the Dowager?” Esa asked.
Veyka nearly crushed my wrist.
A long silence.
“Not yet.”
I knew the relationship between mother and daughter was bad. Every person in the elemental court did. But the anger, the unmitigated strength in that grasp of my hand, told me more than words had thus far. Veyka hated her mother as vehemently as she was set upon avenging her brother.
Another piece of the mystery of Veyka slid into place.
“So you will not take any action until the Joining is completed,” Teo was saying, the voices suddenly seeming much more distant, even though the councilors hadn’t moved.
“Let her pour the wine. She hasn’t the intellect nor the interest to do anything more.”
Veyka’s hand released mine. She tilted her head just enough that I could see her profile—and the wicked smile that climbed her face.
