Four
THE TEA PARTY seemed to take forever. Charis’s head ached as she exchanged pleasantries, sipped spiced tea, and navigated her way through a slew of discreetly barbed questions.
Had she settled in Solvang, or would she be moving on soon?
Was she finding it difficult to plan for the future without the wisdom of her mother or her council at hand?
What had Calera done to attract the wrath of the Rakuuna in the first place?
By the time she’d worked her way through the thirty-some people in attendance, her smile felt sharp as a blade, and her tone was dipping dangerously close to the one Mother had used when she sentenced someone to the dungeons.
These people, in their velvets and silks, their plush carriages, and their comfortable homes free of monsters and bloodshed, couldn’t possibly understand how their words affected her. They looked at Charis and saw someone who brought danger in her wake. Every bit of information they tried to pry out of her was simply to protect themselves and their families. She’d have done the same if the roles were reversed.
That knowledge didn’t ease the pressure in her chest one bit.
She’d accepted Lady Estr’s invitation because the woman was related to Holland and Nalani, which meant she was distant family to Charis as well. And because her connections to the palace and Solvang’s nobility ran deep, which meant Charis could assess the Solvanish nobility’s sentiment toward her people. If this afternoon was any indication, they were unsettled enough that even a hint of the Rakuuna’s attention turning their way would send them running to Gareth and Vyllanthra to demand that the Calerans be forced out of their kingdom.
Charis was going to need to act quickly to assure the royals that her people posed no threat.
“I beg your pardon.” The man in the purple tea jacket nodded respectfully to Charis as he accidentally bumped into her on his way to the refreshment table, which was being restocked by a pair of servers in crisp black-and-gold uniforms.
“Of course.” Charis stretched her mouth into yet another smile and took a step back.
He paused and then turned to face her, his dark eyes intent on her face. “You won’t remember me, of course, but I visited Calera often in my younger years.”
She kept her smile in place and nodded. He was hardly the first in the room to tell her of a personal connection to Calera and its people.
“I study the stars, you see.”
“How lovely.” Her voice was polished marble, but at least her smile stayed intact.
“Yes, well.” He reached up to smooth his graying goatee. “I made it a habit to establish correspondence with like-minded individuals in other kingdoms, comparing their understanding of the night skies with my own.”
“An excellent habit.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, quite. I don’t know if you’re aware, but your father and I spent many years writing each other, until his health declined. And while we usually spoke of astronomy, we also mentioned our respective families. He was so proud of you and loved you deeply.”
Charis’s smile disappeared.
Tears shone in the man’s eyes, and his voice caught, thick with grief. “I’ve mourned his loss since I heard the news and wanted to simply say that I’m so sorry. He was the kindest, most sincere man I ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he is missed.”
The air in the room thinned until it was nothing but a wisp.
Charis opened her mouth to reply, but the words wouldn’t come. All she could see was Father, crumpled on his bedroom floor. Gone. Ripped away from her without even the chance to say goodbye.
“I apologize if my words distress you.” The man reached out as if to touch her arm, and Charis stumbled back.
The chasm of grief within bled darkness into her veins, heavy as stone, and she shook her head, though it was too late. He’d already torn away the thin wall she’d built to contain a loss she couldn’t truly face.
Not if she wanted to be strong enough to save her people.
“Your Majesty.” Lady Estr spoke from behind Charis.
Turning away from the man, Charis reached desperately for a shield of icy calm to cover the wreckage left in the wake of her memories. The room swayed slightly, and the pain in her head doubled as she faced Lady Estr and summoned every bit of willpower she possessed.
“Yes, Lady Estr?” Her voice was a husk of itself, but at least it didn’t tremble.
Lady Estr frowned. “You look unwell. Perhaps you should visit the bath chamber. Nothing ruins a queen’s formidable reputation like vomiting on a hostess’s expensive rug.”
“I’m fine.” The lie left her lips, bold as a sword and just as sharp.
“If you say so.” Lady Estr held a parchment letter in her hand, its purple seal already broken. Charis recognized the crest of Lord Jamison Thorsby, the head of Mother’s royal council. “This was just delivered for you from the royal palloren hub.”
Clearly those who ran the hub had either opened and read the message themselves or had brought it to Gareth and Vyllanthra before sending it on to Charis. She could only hope Lord Thorsby hadn’t written anything that could jeopardize Charis’s standing here.
“Thank you.”
Charis couldn’t bear to spend another moment pretending in this room full of strangers, and the message from Thorsby was the excuse she needed. “Lady Estr, I thank you for your gracious hospitality. Holland and I must take our leave now. I look forward to seeing you again soon.”
“Last time I saw my great-nephew, he was hiding in the kitchen.” Lady Estr snapped her fingers at a parlor maid. “Fetch Lord Holland. Have him meet his queen at her carriage.”
The man in the purple coat opened his mouth as if to say something, but Charis was already moving toward the door, trusting Reuben to keep up.
She had no diplomacy left within her. No soft replies or smiles. No dexterity to answer questions without giving away anything of value.
All that was left was grief and rage and the terrible certainty that the Rakuuna queen setting a bounty on Charis’s head meant something important had changed.
As Charis made her way back into the fog-drenched afternoon, her mind raced through scenarios, each one grimmer than the last.
Perhaps the Rakuuna had learned of the treaty between Calera and Montevallo and thought to use Charis as a bargaining chip, along with Tal.
Perhaps the Rakuuna regretted the deal they’d made with Tal allowing Charis to go free.
Or perhaps they needed Charis because Tal was dead.
Her knees weakened, and she sagged against the porch railing as a sickening wave of dread slammed into her. A hand wrapped around her upper arm and steadied her. She turned to find Reuben looking at her with the same implacable expectation she’d always seen in Mother’s face.
Be stronger.
Strike harder.
Never falter, never waver, never break.
Not even if the boy who’d broken her heart was dead.
“What happened?” Holland rushed onto the porch, wiping crumbs from his chin.
“The porch is a bit slippery from the fog,” Reuben said, his eyes darting toward the members of Lady Estr’s staff who stood nearby, manning the entrance.
“Seems fine to me,” Holland mumbled as he took the stairs quickly. “Let’s go before Great-Aunt Estr finds someone else who simply must have a conversation with me.”
Charis pulled her arm free of Reuben’s grip and walked to the carriage with the same purposeful stride she’d once used to enter the throne room. When she was settled inside with Holland and Reuben, she instructed the coachmistress to take them to the refugee apartments where they would pick up Nalani and Delaire, and where Charis would face the unenviable task of informing her people that they could no longer send messages to family in Calera.
Not until Charis was long gone from Solvang.
She’d have to alter her plans. Rush any remaining repairs and upgrades to the ship. Secure letters of protection from Gareth and Vyllanthra to prove they were allies in case Charis needed help from another kingdom along the way. And head to Te’ash before the Rakuuna came looking for her here.
But how could she do that if she still didn’t know how to kill them?
And what would she do if she arrived in Te’ash only to learn that the monsters had killed Tal?
Panic closed a fist around her throat, and she swallowed hard as the thudding of her heart matched the pounding in her head. She told herself it was simply because Tal’s death would leave her without leverage against Alaric. It had nothing to do with never seeing Tal’s warm brown eyes or crooked smile again.
“What’s that?” Holland’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. She followed his gaze to the parchment she still clutched in her hand.
As the carriage turned left and began winding down a steep hill, she smoothed the parchment open, her heart giving a twinge at the sight of Lord Thorsby’s elegant scrawl. Focusing on his words was better than spinning useless scenarios in her head. The panic eased a bit, and she drew a steadying breath.
“It’s a note from Lord Thorsby.” She peered closer and realized that Gareth and Vyllanthra had opened the message because it was addressed to them. Thorsby, along with the rest of Calera, didn’t know Charis was in Solvang.
Which meant the Rakuuna didn’t know, either.
Charis had to keep it that way until she had time to learn how to kill them and then leave Solvang’s shores far behind.
“What does he say?” Holland leaned closer.
“Let me read it, and then we’ll see.” Charis peered closely at the parchment in the dim light of the carriage interior.
A match flared, and then the lantern that hung on the wall opposite the door began to glow. Reuben shook the match’s flame into smoke and nodded to Charis as soft, golden light filled the carriage, illuminating the parchment.
“Thank you.” She scanned the parchment once and then went back to reread it with care, her heart swelling. “They’re resisting.” She handed the parchment to Holland as the carriage slowed to a stop in front of the building Nalani and Delaire had converted into makeshift apartments for the refugees. “Nobility, merchants, and peasants alike are organizing in the shadows and sabotaging the Rakuuna every chance they get.”
Holland swore and pounded his fist against his thigh as he read Lord Thorsby’s words, but his elation evaporated as he reached the last paragraph of the parchment. “Charis—”
“I know.”
Holland turned to Reuben. “The Rakuuna placed a bounty on Charis’s head. A generous reward for returning her to Calera, alive.”
Reuben glared. “Best not to mention that to the traitors on board the ship, then.”
“I hardly think Grim and Dec will return me to Calera just for some coin.” Charis composed her expression as the door opened. “They’re depending on me to rescue their prince.”
“May he choke on every bite he ever swallows,” Holland said.
“Indeed.” Charis exited the carriage after Reuben and instructed a Caleran girl playing in the courtyard to spread the word that the queen needed to speak to everyone immediately.
Fifteen minutes later, everyone who’d sailed with Charis—with the exception of Orayn, Finn, Dec, and Grim, who all slept on the ship—was gathered in the community parlor on the first level of the building. Charis had stationed every Solvanish guard outside. Only Calerans needed to hear what she had to say.
“I’ve received word from Calera.” She held up the parchment. A murmur spread throughout the room. Charis waited for silence, then continued. “There are three things you need to know. First, the Rakuuna queen has placed a bounty on my head.”
Cries of shock and anger rippled through the crowd, and Charis held up her hand for quiet. “Second, the Rakuuna are intercepting pallorens sent to Calera and are reading the messages. I can only assume they are doing so to hunt for news of my whereabouts and to make sure no kingdom is sending an armada to Calera’s rescue.”
This time, she didn’t have to ask for quiet. Silence settled over the room, thick as wool.
“Unfortunately, this means we must temporarily cease sending pallorens to your families as we cannot risk any accidental exposure of information that puts either Solvang or our people at risk. Once I’ve left for my next destination, you may resume communication.”
People shifted uneasily, exchanging swift glances.
“I realize that’s disappointing, and I’m sorry for that.” She lifted the parchment, calling their attention back to its content. “Finally, we’ve received the welcome news that a contingent of Calerans from all backgrounds have loosely organized themselves in the shadows and are mounting a resistance in our fair capital city of Arborlay.”
Conversation erupted, and Holland shouted them into silence again.
Charis’s head ached so badly, she felt sick. She wanted nothing more than to take a tonic, crawl into bed, and beg the sister moons for sleep without nightmares. Instead she said with quiet vengeance, “I intend to finish my tasks here in Solvang within the next two weeks. At that point, I will set sail for the enemy’s kingdom and turn the war to our favor. All Calerans who are in good health and do not have children to care for here will be sailing with me.”
Charis dismissed the crowd and climbed into the carriage with the twins, Delaire, and Reuben, trying desperately to think past the pain in her head and the pressure in her chest.
She needed a new plan to find the Rakuuna’s weakness, and she needed it fast.