Declan and I walked out the door.
When we turned the corner, mother’s butler, Jorad, saw me. He bowed. “Your Majesty.”
I straightened my spine, though the words were like a lance through my middle.
I’m Queen. Queen, I thought. The word strangled me like a noose.
The funeral was held at dawn, when orange stripes of light peeled away the darkness from the sky. But dawn's rays didn't touch me. I was still as dark as midnight inside.
My knights were all in full armor and they stood behind me on the cliffs. Quinn still held Avia as she cried.
My mother’s body floated away with the tide, poinsettias surrounding her and stuffed underneath her limp hands. As if flowers could make death more beautiful, or this ritual less grim.
Ryan used a bow to shoot a flaming arrow at my mother's funeral ship. It caught, and I watched the flames slowly spread across her form.
I clasped hands with each of my fathers before they each took a running jump over the sixty-foot cliff edge. They started after a burning boat, on a futile quest, in a desperate attempt to mesh their souls with my mother’s.
Tears streaked my face. I watched them as the crowd behind me lessened, as the sun jaunted through the sky.
I couldn’t turn away. I watched them turn into pinpricks in the water. One of their heads bobbed under the waves.
I choked. I felt like puking. My body revolted against the stupid tradition that was killing them. But I couldn’t stop it. They’d chosen it. So, I sent a pulse of peace magic after each of them, hoping that I could give them a moment's respite before the end, hoping that as the water filled their lungs that their bodies will forget to fight and just quickly and gently fade into eternity.
After the green pulse faded from my hands, Ryan took me in his arms. He patched the ragged wounds on my arms with his soft healing magic. And I leaned into his strength. Until he handed me roughly to Declan.
"Sorry, Bloss. I need to go punch something," Ryan strode off.
I turned with Declan, emotionally exhausted and ready to head up to the castle to hide in my chambers.
But we ran into Willard and Lady Agatha, who’d stayed the entire morning. I wasn’t exactly surprised by Lady Agatha, as she considered herself one of mother's closest companions and would want to publicly reinforce that impression. But I would have thought Willard would be overseeing the migration of their herds to more southern territories. Or helping his tenants find temporary housing.
Instead, Willard came up to me, fury making his jowls shake. "You didn't hunt dragons during your travels. Not at all. And now, suddenly you're back. And a dragon's entered our lands? What are the chances of that? Hmm? You're a liar."
My stomach dropped.
Sard. How does he know about the dragon? I wondered.
"I didn't lie to you, Willard. I took a mage's oath. How could I lie?"
"I don’t know, but you got around the magic somehow."
I refrained from rolling my eyes because his fury was real. His fear was real. And it was well-founded.
"I am just as concerned about the issues on your lands as you are." I refrained from saying the word dragon, as we were still in a public place. "Your herds and people are important to me. Which is why I am shocked you are not moving them to safety when they are being poisoned in their current location."
Willard squinted at me. "It's nearly winter. And your solution was to tell me to basically clear out my entire province! That's not a solution at all."
"Ryan's sending men to deal with the issue."
"Issue," Lady Agatha interjected, pulling her embroidered handkerchief down from her large nose. "You can't even say it, can you? Dragon?"
"Is your goal to cause mass panic? To cause a riot? Or is your goal to save as many of your people and as many of your cattle—hence, your profits—as you possibly can?" I sneered. I had always hated Lady Agatha. Only now I was finally in a position to show it.
"You care for your province. Or it won't be yours much longer," my eyes flashed.
Willard's face flushed. Lady Agatha's mouth dropped open.
But I was done with them. I had played mother's court games all my life. But I was done with court games. I preferred the straight, loud-mouthed barmaid form of communication.
I prefer it when you shout too, Dove, Quinn interjected. I’d love to hear you shout my name. Think you can do that later?
As always, my knight made me smile, even as I strode away from two of the most frustratingly stupid members of my court.
I want Willard followed, I told Quinn. I don't trust him. My gut tells me this show of anger isn't new. And see if you can find out how he knew about the sarding dragon!
It's done, Quinn agreed, before opening up the carriage door for me.
Declan helped me cram my long black funeral dress into the carriage and then my knights climbed in behind me.
We rode back to the castle in silence, me trying to watch the sky and avoid thinking about my mother or fathers, Declan staring at a ledger he'd found in my mother's chamber, and Quinn silently communicating with his network of spies.
When we reached the castle, Connor came down to help us out of the carriage.
I'd refused to let him go to the funeral as it would be awash with emotion and he'd end up drained. Instead, I'd had him take an Invisibilty potion and go with one of Quinn's people down to the guest wing. He'd been snooping around Abbas' servants all morning, attempting to unearth the prince's true motives.
When we reached the royal wing of the palace, I grabbed Connor's hand. Once we were inside my room, I shut the door. "Well?" I asked.
"One of the footmen did mention that Abbas and his father had some sort of disagreement. But that could have been over anything. The sultan isn't known for his good temper. Overall, the mood of the servants seemed frazzled. They were packing up some trinkets to ship back to Cheryn. It seems the prince has a fondness for souvenirs."
I couldn't hide my disappointment. "You didn't feel any stress or secrets on any of them?"
"Not in the rooms I was in. We didn't get to his personal chamber though. I didn't get to see his personal butler."
I scrubbed at my face. It was sore from all the tears over the past few days. My cheeks were raw to the touch. "Well, if we can't find out what he wants through spying, we're going to have to try something else."
"Yeah?" Connor asked. "What?"
"More magic."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Connor, Declan, Quinn, and I made our way across the castle via the spelled passageways. I was done with crowds, at least for a few hours. My coronation was at sunset. But I was drained. I needed to recharge before I had to fake smile through a ceremony I wished was still a distant hazy future event. Not the bleak thing I knew it would be.
We had just darted from one secret passage across the hall to another (our goal of Wyle’s tower was all the way across the castle) when Quinn made us stop.
Willard's meeting with some traders from Sedara. I need to hear this.
We all waited in the dark, leaning against the stone walls of the tunnel as Quinn had a silent debate with his minions.
Declan got bored enough that he divided the darkness to create a little bit of light where we stood. He and Connor and I began mimicking some of Quinn's more comical facial reactions.
Connor had just scrunched his nose like Quinn when the latter sent a curse reverberating through all our heads.
Shite!
"What? What is it?" I pushed off the wall. What would have my spy master so concerned?
Quinn looked at each of us in turn. His storm-cloud eyes settled on me last. And I didn't like the fear swirling in their depths.
Willard's meeting with our lovely Sedarian ambassador, Meeker. They went for a ride in the woods. One of my invisibles trailed them, though they set up spelled boundaries. My guy is good though and used his bottle of Flight. Their boundaries didn't extend overhead.
"And?"
And they were talking about trading an Evaness port in exchange for elf-made ice cannons. The kind that might be used to kill a dragon.
“Willard’s land doesn’t have a port.” I said. “It’s grazing land.”
Yes, well they also discussed the possibility that Evaness … needs a new monarch.
The words were a punch to the gut, the kind that goes all the way through the spine. It stole my breath. I stumbled backward into Declan, who put his arms around me.
"Sard. Sard. Sarding hell." I muttered.
"We aren't going to let that happen, Bloss Boss," Connor tried to soothe me.
"We have a treaty with Sedara,” I bit out angrily.
"Countries will use you and toss you aside at their first convenience," Declan said wryly. "A lesson I learned when I was first sent here."
"If Sedara's going help Willard try and unseat me ... they're looking for war."
"This smells rotten. Think about it. Would Sedara be this angry over a suitor visit?” Declan asked.
“Meeker was furious. It took me ages to calm him down,” Connor responded.
“Would Willard bring in a dragon to kill your sister, but change his plans when you returned?”
I sucked in a breath. “He did ask me if I actually hunted dragons. When we had the mage spell.”
Everyone exchanged dark glances.
But then Declan squinted. “All of this gives Abbas a wonderful place to negotiate from. I wonder how much his hand helped stir that pot?” He turned to face me. “How much more likely are you to consider his proposal if you think Sedara is against you? If you think your own people are turning against you? It seems rather suspicious to me."