CHAPTER 3 ALEK #2
But as I consider these notes and the magic that’s tormented Syhl Shallow for years, a scene from that dream flares through my thoughts again. The scraver descending on Callyn, claws ripping across her flesh. I shiver.
No, as much as I hate to admit it, my true worry isn’t for the queen at all. It’s not even for Syhl Shallow.
It’s for Callyn herself.
As head of one of the five Houses in Syhl Shallow, I’m usually admitted to the palace without question. Thanks to King Grey and his worthless little minion, Tycho, I’ve been greeted with suspicion and scrutiny from time to time, but today, no one even looks at me askance.
The palace is quiet and somber, however, which takes me by surprise. When I request an audience with the queen, servants and guards exchange glances, which is uncommon.
No one says a word to me, however. The servants here are as discreet as my own.
To my surprise, Queen Lia Mara does not answer my summons.
Instead, her younger sister, Nolla Verin, does.
She strides into the salon in black training leathers, fully armed from head to toe.
Her hair is in tight braids pinned to the back of her head, and the expression on her face is certainly not joy over my arrival.
That’s mutual.
“Verin,” I say flatly. “It seems that every time I wish to speak with the queen, I am offered you instead.”
“How lucky for you,” she says.
“Is it?”
Her lips purse, but I say nothing and stare at her. She stares back.
If she thinks I’m intimidated, I’m not.
As heir— and now head— of one of the Royal Houses, I’ve called at court since I was a boy.
I’ve known Verin for as long as I can remember, just as I knew her mother.
The former queen was ruthless and brutal and attempted to raise her daughters to be the same.
Lia Mara is the elder sister, but she resisted right from the start.
She has always been kind and thoughtful, and even though I’d never call her willful, she was certainly determined in her refusal to lead through brutality.
So instead, the old queen raised Nolla Verin to be her heir. Everyone expected the younger sister to rule, until Lia Mara claimed the crown for herself— through that same brutality she has always eschewed.
To my knowledge, the sisters have always been close, and I have never heard a single rumor spoken at court to indicate that Verin resents her sister’s place on the throne.
But I remember how brutal Verin was when we were growing up, the way she could break an opponent’s fingers or crush their windpipe without hesitation.
The way her mother would praise her efforts every time, calling Lia Mara away from her book or whatever quiet activity she was engaged in, saying, “Why can’t you be more like your sister?
Nolla Verin knows what is required of a ruler. ”
I’ve often wondered how easily Verin was able to dull the edge of her ruthlessness after Lia Mara took the throne. Others have marveled at it, noting how gracious Verin must be to put her own expectations aside.
But I never marveled.
Instead, I never quite believed it.
As she stares back at me, I consider the way Verin has never fully protected the queen from these recent attacks— neither from the Truthbringers nor from the scravers.
I consider Lady Karyl and the note that was delivered this morning.
I have discovered a way to ensure success for our family, and it is only a matter of time before everyone is safe.
Could Verin be involved in this somehow? In a way, the thought seems ludicrous. She has complete access to the queen at all times. By law, she could kill Lia Mara and take the crown for herself.
As soon as I have the thought, I’m struck with another: I wonder if it’s not loyalty that’s stopping her, but fear of retaliation. We all saw what King Grey did during the Uprising— and I’ve already heard about what happened when scravers attacked him right here on the palace grounds.
If Verin killed his wife, he’d burn the world to ash until he found her.
Regardless, I can’t stand here and make accusations about the queen’s sister. That’s a quick path to treason.
That doesn’t mean I can’t yank her chain. “This is boring,” I say to her. I make a shooing motion toward the doorway. “Won’t you be a good girl and fetch your sister?”
She doesn’t move. “What do you want, Alek?”
“I’m fairly certain I’ve been clear about my purpose here.” I glance toward the doorway. “I am seeking an audience with the queen.”
“She’s not receiving callers.”
“The king departed weeks ago,” I say. “My people tell me that his soldiers have withdrawn from Syhl Shallow. Yet the queen has not been seen.”
Verin steps closer, her voice turning low and vicious. “You are not in a position to make demands, Alek. The palace was subject to a brutal attack. The queen is recovering—”
“She was injured?” My eyebrows go up.
“No.”
“Then why is she recovering?”
Nolla Verin clamps her mouth shut.
This feels more like sparring than bantering— and I know the difference.
Verin and I have had countless moments like this over the years.
At one point my mother thought we might present a strategic couple— and on the surface, I might agree with her.
I’ve never flinched from brutality, and Verin would never have put up with the attacks that King Grey and Queen Lia Mara have endured.
Any plots against the throne would’ve been severely punished under her rule.
If I were at her side, I certainly wouldn’t have stopped her.
Verin and I are too similar, and anyone who ever envisioned a romantic pairing was fooling themselves. We’re too distrustful, too ambitious, too aggressive, too unforgiving.
Neither of us should rule anything.
It shows now, because this feels like a standoff, and I know she won’t back down. I won’t either. A spark of aggression flickers between us, and knowing her, it’ll lead to a fight. I’m glad I’m armed.
My eyes narrow. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing. I am protecting my sister from your prying questions.”
I take a step closer to her. “Are you certain?”
“I would die for Lia Mara,” she says. “And I will end anyone who means her harm.”
Right this moment, I’m not entirely sure I believe that. “Good,” I say. “So will I.”
She moves closer to me. “What do you really want, Alek?”
I want to know if magic is truly gone. I want to know if the queen is safe.
But that’s not really what I want to know. That’s not the root of my inquiry.
I want to know if Callyn is truly gone.
As I think the words, I discover I can’t speak them. I don’t want to know the answer.
I hate this part of myself. It feels like weakness. Magic should be banished from Syhl Shallow. If Callyn shares the king’s power, she should be banished as well.
But a sliver of hope stings my heart with every beat, imagining she’s still here.
A soft voice speaks from the doorway. “Nolla Verin. What are you doing?”
The voice doesn’t sound familiar, so I look— and I’m shocked to discover the queen.
She’s always so vibrant, with long red hair and bright eyes and a regal bearing.
Queen Lia Mara seems to have endless patience, and I’ve seen her sit at court for hours on end, listening to the pleas and complaints of her subjects.
I personally don’t know how she endures it, because I’d be exasperated and ordering executions by midday, just to get everyone to shut up.
But she’s always tireless, spending as much time on the last person waiting for her attention as she does on the first.
Today, however, there’s no vibrance. Her eyes are dull, her normally full cheeks a bit hollow. Her hair is lank and seems as though it needs a good washing. She looks as though she hasn’t slept in a week.
Or more likely two.
“Your Majesty,” I say. “Are you . . . well?”
“My husband is gone,” she says evenly. “I am not well.”
Verin leaves my side to join her sister. Her voice drops, but not enough that I can’t hear her. “Lia Mara,” she says gently, surprising me with the softness in her tone. “You should be resting.”
“I am done resting,” the queen says firmly. She looks at me. “Alek. I’m glad you are here. I need your assistance. The king has withdrawn his forces from Syhl Shallow. I have heard rumors that the people are afraid we may become embroiled in another war with Emberfall.”
I wonder if she knows those same rumors are spreading on the other side of the mountain. I force my expression to remain neutral. “Will we?”
“Of course not,” she says firmly. “King Grey is not—” Her voice breaks, and she goes rigid for a brief piercing moment, as if a heartbeat might shatter her to pieces. But then she clears her throat and stands strong. “The king left to protect Syhl Shallow. He is not my enemy.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” I pause, waiting to hear what else she has to say, but her eyes flick past me, to the window overlooking the training fields. Normally there are squadrons of soldiers engaged in drills, under command of the king.
Right now, there’s no one. The queen’s mouth trembles the slightest bit.
I study her carefully, torn between regretful satisfaction . . . and uneasy remorse. Because the king had to go. He had to. I wouldn’t mourn if he were dead, and I’m certainly not going to mourn the fact that he took his magic back to Emberfall.
But I’m not sure this is better. If the Truthbringers hope to eliminate the queen, they aren’t going to find much resistance in the woman standing in front of me.
“Lia Mara,” I say quietly, hoping her given name will break through some of the tense formality. “Tell me. How can I help you?”
It works— in a way. Her eyes lock on mine. She inhales to speak, but then her gaze settles back on her sister. “Verin,” she says sharply. “Leave us.”
Something in her tone makes me wonder if Lia Mara suspects her sister as well. But Verin purses her lips and obeys, striding out of the room like a soldier on a mission.