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For three years, I’d wanted nothing more. Now, I marched outside, ignoring her words—Tal and Dasha deserved better than me running, and if Solovyova was correct, marrying was the only way to protect both. I was never leaving Tal. Already, the crown bound me. When Dasha came of age, I would tell her all I knew.
Where my father and I had been given no real choice, I would give her all. Then if she did not want the city and crown, we could go with Helia’s plan and find someone willing to rule.
Being king came with privileges. It was time to make use of them, for there was more on the line than I ever expected. I had just named that little girl my heir, throwing her into a life of privilege and danger.
I revised my plans for the Council members as I sent the first servants I saw to summon them to the king’s chambers. I needed this behind me—behind Dasha—and they needed to know who was in charge.
It was time to listen to myself instead of letting others pull my strings. I had already kept up the facade too long. If Alexei had been here, I would have told him I might never be ready for another fight, but I had gotten up anyway.
It was time to show my hand.
Back in my royal chambers, I cleaned away my usual mess of books and maps, then ordered drinks brought.
The spymaster was the first to arrive, bringing the selected servers and the documents he had gathered over the previous three-day.
I gave him a nod, hoping he would see my acquiescence to his less violent approach even if he could not guess the reason for it. Von Uster considered me, as if he saw something had changed. I found myself wanting to confide in him—would he who swore loyalty to the Crown and stability of Tal greet the news of an illegitimate heir with approval or the fury my father had?
There was no time to find out.
Osipova, a tall and broad, dark-skinned man with short curly hair, strode in with the bearing that came from being the scion of a great Talian house and the Sorachian ruling family. He gave a perfunctory bow before accepting the tea he was offered.
As I had no issue with him, I could only hope he would not object to what was about to happen. I needed at least a fraction of the Council to remain if I wanted to pretend the outcome of this meeting had been amicable.
Mar Heridan entered with Sophina Dorova. Despite my personal issues with her, I could not help feeling disgust at how the man almost thrice her age stared down her dress while walking closer than necessary. It also brought back memories of a barge, the councilman opposite with a consort, and Tempest in my lap—hiding and helping me without question.
I could not pretend the heat in the memory came from magic. I had broken the distance between us. In the end, I hadbroken us as well. At least what we had learned was only moments away from being put to good use.
Savva Novikov sought von Uster before dismissively nodding in my direction.
“The Council only meets in the courthouse. What’s the meaning of this? Keeping time like a commoner, is this what we have come to?” he said to the room, waving his flamboyant coat and looking ready for anything but bed.
Well, maybe not ready for the turn his night was about to take.
“Sit,” I said, finding the smile on my lips easy to summon. Dasha was alive. Vanya was alive. And if both were unreachable, that did not matter. The world held hope, and instead of ice, flames flickered inside me.
Heridan demanded a stronger drink as he sat.
I nodded to the woman serving him. Koshka fit perfectly into the palace uniform, her hair neater than I had ever seen it. I had longed to plunge my own blade into these murderers—for signing your name to the order was no different than delivering the blow—but kings did not dirty their hands. And after Zakhar, I had enough blood on mine anyway. If I was going to hold on to the throne and be the king Alexei had seen, I would need to use all my tools, even if that meant trusting again.
The clock’s pendulum swung. Minutes ticked.
As I was about to order the door locked, Kazimir Bersigov rushed in.
A few years my senior, disheveled in a way that made him look ready for anything, and clothes that would allow him to fit into most places, the younger Bersigov bore little resemblance to the rotund grandfather I remembered.
“I was at the hospital and didn’t receive the summons. We’re almost th—”
“Not now,” I said and waved for him to sit.
Of the eight councilmen and women, seven—or a representative in Bersig’s case—sat at the king’s table. I stole a glance at the clock. Half a bell after the time I had ordered them here.
“It seems von Lemerch is not able to attend. As the matter is urgent, I’ll not delay any longer, but take the matter up with her personally later.”
Von Uster nodded in understanding. She had not voted for Dasha’s death—for I could already not think of my child as the faceless boy I mourned for three years—but that did not make her innocent.
Koshka and the equally disguised handpicked Roja unobtrusively moved to stand behind two of the guilty Council members each.
Ignoring them, Heridan waved his hand dismissively. “What couldn’t wait until morning, son? Your father—”
