Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ryker
The tension in the room was thick. Every member was studiously avoiding my gaze as they waited for my father to begin.
All except Fallon Thorne.
He seemed far too pleased with himself, which was surprising, considering his place on the council came from my murdering his father. Although with father-son relationships, I couldn’t judge.
“Since we last met, Prince Ryker has been working toward a plan that will safeguard our delivery routes while also laying a trap for the rebels who were brazen enough to think they could steal from me.”
Cadence stiffened next to me, but my attention was locked on Fallon.
“Steal from us, you mean.”
My father furrowed his brows while he stared at the newest member of his council.
“Speak plainly, boy, we don’t have all day,” my father demanded.
Fallon’s smile grew, sharp and satisfied, as though he had been handed exactly what he wanted.
“You called the rebels brazen for stealing from you, Your Majesty, but every family here has filled the palace coffers. They’re stealing from all of us, not only the crown.”
Muttered agreement broke out around the table, and my father scowled.
I had to hand it to Fallon Thorne; it was his first meeting of the council as head of his house, and he was already sowing seeds of discord among my father’s followers.
“You make a valid point, Lord Thorne,” my father conceded through clenched teeth. “Though I would remind you that your family’s significant contributions are taxes, not gifts.”
He inclined his head in mock deference, but the damage was done. The council members exchanged glances, and I could almost see the calculations happening behind their eyes. Fallon had positioned himself as a champion for the other families, which made him both useful and dangerous.
My father saw it too, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. “Perhaps you’d care to make a more substantial contribution to today’s meeting than correcting my choice of words?”
Fallon leaned back in his chair — his father’s chair — with the casual confidence of someone who believed themselves untouchable. Maybe he thought his family’s wealth would shield him.
Or maybe he was simply a fool.
“I’d be delighted, Your Majesty.” He gestured toward me with an elegant flick of his wrist. “Though I’m curious what our Prince’s plan entails.”
My father dipped his chin, signaling for me to get on with it. Riordan unfurled the map sitting in front of him, and the remaining councilors reluctantly met my gaze.
Before I could begin, however, Fallon spoke once again. “Have you had any success rooting out the traitor?”
Cadence pressed her knee against mine, as if she was warning me not to murder yet another lord. I suppose she had a point. Kill enough of them, and the others will eventually turn on you.
Not that it mattered either way. Still, it would likely prove inconvenient.
I let the silence stretch until it became uncomfortable, watching as several councilors shifted in their seats. I trusted none of them. As far as I was concerned, they were all traitors until proven otherwise.
“We’re making progress,” I finally replied, keeping my voice level despite the way Fallon’s question hung in the air. “Though I find it interesting that you’d bring up the traitor so quickly, Lord Thorne.”
His smile didn’t waver. “I’m eager to see justice served, Your Highness. After all, my father’s death taught me how swiftly betrayal can strike.”
Cadence placed her hand on my thigh beneath the table, a silent plea not to act rashly. When I glanced in Riordan’s direction, he gave a subtle shake of his head.
But I was never good at taking orders.
“Something you wish to say, Lord Thorne?” I asked, feigning boredom. “Or do you need reminding that any offence against my wife is an offence against the crown? As far as I’m concerned, your father was just as much a traitor as the person responsible for leaking information to our enemies.”
Cadence let out a small gasp, and Riordan groaned, but my gaze never shifted from Fallon’s.
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally, hinting at his true feelings regarding his father’s untimely demise.
Then, as if remembering himself, Fallon stripped the emotion from his face, leaving only a lazy grin behind.
“I apologize if I offended you, my Lord, that was not my intention. I only meant it was a timely reminder of how quickly things can change, not that your punishment was unjustified,” he lied smoothly.
Every single set of eyes, my father’s included, darted between Fallon and me like spectators at a sword fight.
“The map,” Riordan prompted, clearing his throat.
When my attention returned to the parchment in front of me, a collective sigh of relief filled the room.
“The rebels have been hitting our supply chains, here, here, and here,” I said, tapping the three locations where the mountain pass was narrow, creating natural choke points.
Cadence leaned in, studying the map intently. “Are they only targeting the food supplies?” she asked, making me preen.
She was acting like the queen she would one day become.
“Any weapons, medicines, or tools?”
“Only the food stores,” I confirmed. “Given how narrow the passes are, the rebels can’t feasibly station troops there indefinitely. They’d need to know exactly when to strike — when the reward outweighs the risk.”
“And you’re sure it’s the Wraith Borne?” Lord Vor asked.
“I care little for who is responsible, Lord Vor, only that they are stopped.”
“Perhaps we should simply change our schedule then.”
“And alert our traitor that we are on to them?” I craned a brow, and he shriveled beneath my scrutiny.
“So, what is your solution?” my father asked, his fingers drumming against the polished table.
“We create a shipment too tempting to resist. Extra guards, but visible ones, making it appear substantial but poorly defended.” I paused, watching as understanding dawned across some faces. “We will instruct the guards to surrender, which will lead the rebels to believe they have won easily.”
Heads began to nod around the table as the council members listened to my plan with rapt attention.
“Meanwhile, a secondary force will wait here.” I tapped a forested pass. “Hidden from view until the rebels have committed to their attack. Once they move in, they’ll be surrounded. We crush them and the traitor’s information network in one decisive blow.”
Fallon leaned forward, his interest genuine. “But what if they’re tipped off about the secondary force?”
My lips curved into a menacing smile. “We won’t be telling anyone until the day of the operation.”
My father’s eyes gleamed with approval. “The traitor cannot reveal what they don’t know.”
Lord Vor frowned. “What will be in the shipment? We can’t risk losing further supplies should anything go wrong.”
“The wagons will be empty.” I pointed toward the map, running my finger along the green lines that sat alongside the red. “The real shipment is going to be transported to the palace via these routes.”
More nods of approval greeted my explanation.
“And what if, after all this,” — Fallon waved a hand over the parchment — “they still don’t take the bait?”
I grinned then, all teeth and menace. “Then we shrink our suspect pool considerably.”
“Meaning?”
“To those sitting around this table.”
The council shared uneasy glances.
I was certain the traitor was one of them, and I had just laid the perfect trap. Either they allowed their allies to be crushed, ending the threat they posed to the kingdom. Or they showed their hand, warning the rebels but exposing their own throats in the same breath.
It was beautiful chaos, and I was eager to let it reign.