Chapter 27 #2
I raise my voice to carry over the uneasy murmurings.
“A lot of Silana’s citizens have shown that they don’t trust the Melchioreks to have their best interests at heart.
We heard demands that the next ruler prove themselves worthy in both Florian and Tupno.
And they don’t really know Petra. Even if they’re starting to doubt the Order of the Wild, that doesn’t mean they believe in her enough to risk their livelihoods and their lives on her behalf. ”
Most of the heads around the table swivel toward me. The baroness’s lips curl with a hint of a sneer. “So you think our queen should put her life on the line to convince them?”
“Not her life,” I say quickly. “That’s why we’d adapt the idea.
Nothing brutal or as dangerous as I’m sure Lothar is imagining—or as skewed in the Order’s favor.
We’ll come up with tasks for Petra to complete that would make people feel more confident and prove her strength without taking too immense a gamble. ”
“Exactly.” Petra folds her arms over her chest. “And there’s another very good reason to put on such a demonstration.
We can call for Lothar to submit his own candidates.
It won’t be much of a trial if I have no competition.
If he wants to prove himself a fair player, he’ll need to show up.
We’ll have our first real opportunity to expose his and his top followers’ treachery directly—and to address it as we see fit. ”
With a sword through Lothar’s skull, preferably. But even as my spirits stir at the thought of confronting the villain on equal ground, my stomach flips over.
Petra never mentioned that element before. It wasn’t part of my initial idea. And it sounds as if…
Klaudia puts my concern into words before I can. “You’re talking about using yourself as bait.”
Horror tinges her tone, but Petra responds calmly. “I’m the only bait that would work. I trust that you all will ensure I’m never under more threat than is worth it to see our purpose through.”
No one quite seems to know how to argue against that statement. Our future queen gazes around the table. “Let’s get on with it, then. We need to brainstorm what our trials might look like, how we would spread the word, where we should hold them.”
Her call to action finally spurs the uncertain to speak.
Tinom frowns. “I’m not certain this is a wise tactic, Your Highness. Regardless of what precautions we try to implement, the risks you’d need to take—”
“It’s absolutely inappropriate,” Countess Mirina breaks in. “Our queen, dueling against whoever the riffraff throws up against her?”
Petra gives a cough that might cover a laugh. “I don’t think we’d include any actual dueling, Mirina.”
Baron Cyris waves his hand dismissively. “A queen shouldn’t lower herself to that level. You have to think of how it would appear to your most devoted supporters, Your Highness.”
My hackles rise. Supporters like him, he means.
The words burst out before I can catch them. “Unless you can win the throne back for her—and keep it—all on your own, we need the support of the common people too.”
He turns to me with a huff. “What do you know about the ways of the court? I never saw you before three days ago.” He shifts his attention back to Petra. “You must heed our advice, Your Highness. Nothing good ever comes of giving way too much to the masses.”
A flurry of other voices follow his, most of them echoing his protest.
My magic shudders, prodding me to shut them all up, preferably by knocking them on their pompous asses. I clamp down on it instead and gather myself to jump back into the argument.
Then my gaze catches on Petra’s face.
Her mouth has tightened, her expression momentarily uneasy.
She isn’t totally committed to this course. They’ve shaken her resolve.
If she isn’t sure it’s the right plan, who am I to insist that it is? The baron isn’t entirely wrong.
All at once, I feel like I’m back in the bow of the oak tree in Slaughterwell, watching life happen beneath me from a distance. I’ve witnessed plenty, sure, but how much have I truly lived before the past few months?
Do I even really know what I’m asking of Petra?
The doubt rises up in me so fast it steals my breath. I step back from the clash of voices and then stride out of the room.
On a matter this immense that involves her so personally, Petra should make up her own mind. She has plenty of other people in there who can advise her from various levels of society, all of whom probably have a better idea what’s really at stake than I do.
I walk almost blindly until I find myself stepping out the front door. The cool air washes over me, settling my thoughts and leaving my mind clearer.
I take a few more steps into the yard, breathing deeply and getting a grip on myself.
I’m not used to being an active participant in Silana’s politics. I’ll get more comfortable with it in time. Just a few minutes to sort myself out, and I can go back in there and say my piece if I feel I need to.
The door squeaks behind me. I barely have time to turn before Stavros’s well-muscled arm has wrapped around me.
I turn to meet his embrace instinctively, soaking up his warmth and his smoky, peppery scent, even as the question I know I have to ask creeps up my throat. “Shouldn’t you still be in there with the rest of them, figuring out the best approach? You’re the only general we’ve got.”
“Former general,” Stavros mutters, and teases his prosthetic down my back in a gentle caress. “I needed a break from them too. It was either that or there’d have been several broken noses and a not particularly happy queen-to-be.”
The corners of my mouth twitch with the start of a smile. “I think she might have understood a little.”
Stavros hums to himself and eases back just far enough to peer down at me. “You’re not letting them shake your confidence, are you, Lady Thief? The Hand of Kosmel knows more about schemes and treachery than those nobles could even conceive of.”
My momentary good humor fades. “They know a lot about plenty of other things I’ve never experienced.”
“Which is why we’re all at the table together, weighing in.” He cocks an eyebrow. “You didn’t let the horde of high-borns at the college intimidate you.”
I open my mouth and hesitate as I form a full answer. “I had Julita giving me an inside edge. And… I wasn’t there as myself. I was playing a role. It was easier.”
Easier not to care what they thought of me. Easier to drape myself in noble-style self-assurance like yet another fancy gown.
Of course, even if I’m not outright pretending to be someone else these days, I’m still not really being myself. I’m downplaying one of the most significant parts of me as much as I can, willing everyone around me to forget that I’m one of the riven.
Somehow that’s more uncomfortable than simply hiding my whole self away like I once did. But I’m going to have to get used to it.
Stavros dips his head closer, his voice dropping low with it. “I just don’t want to see you backing down. The woman I love has never shied away simply because a situation gets hard.”
A flush spreads over my body with his nearness, and I leap at the opportunity to focus on that heat rather than my worries.
I trail my fingers down his brawny chest, appreciating every ridge of sculpted muscle I can trace through his tunic. “I suppose that’s true. Certain things I particularly appreciate when they’re hard.”
The suggestive note in my voice clearly isn’t lost on the former general. He chuckles and catches my mouth with his.
As Stavros worships me with his kiss, our bodies press closer together. Desire pools low in my belly with the image of him pushing me right up against the side of the house, plunging into me without regard for noble sensibilities.
I’m not sure either of us would actually go quite that far. But before I get the chance to find out, a current of magic tickles across my skin from across the yard.
My back goes rigid, and Stavros yanks back. “What’s wrong?”
I pull back from him, scanning the landscape around the estate. “I felt… Someone extended magic this way…”
As I move forward, his hold on me loosens. We stalk over to the gate together.
The whiff of magic keeps drifting around me. I don’t sense anything aggressive about it, but that doesn’t mean the caster has good intentions.
Stavros tilts his head as if pricking his ear. “Someone’s coming.”
I hear the distant hoofbeats a moment later. Only one set, from the sounds of it. Not anything like an army.
Still, we stay braced and waiting as they approach the estate. If it isn’t an ally, we don’t want them seeing me or Stavros here under Baron Cyris’s roof.
My own magic unfurls through my chest, reminding me of how easily it could spring to our defense if need be.
The hoofbeats slow. The guard posted on the other side of the gate calls out. “Who are you, and what business do you have here?”
A dryly feminine voice replies. “I’m looking for a woman named Ivy.”
The tone is so familiar and yet so unexpected that for the first second I remain frozen. Then I reach to open the gate.
It swings open to reveal the last person I’d ever have expected to see outside her home. The woman who taught me what I know about controlling my riven power—and who insisted it would never be safe for people like us to return to society.
Sulla meets my gaze with a tentative smile, her hands tight around her horse’s reins. “There you are. I thought… I thought it was time I came down from my mountain.”