Thirty-Two
CHARIS’S STOMACH CHURNED as she entered the palace’s formal dining room, Tal and Reuben at her side with Holland and Nalani following behind.
Jeweled chandeliers glittered above rows of tables draped with dark blue linens. Vases of bold red winter roses were flanked by ivory candles dripping wax, and the palace’s best gold dishes graced the place settings.
Charis and Tal were surrounded by Rakuuna guards, the scales covering their nearly translucent skin shimmering in the golden light. More Rakuuna were stationed around the room, sealing off every exit. They carried no weapons, but the talons on their long fingers could cut like a blade, and the double rows of fangs in their mouths appeared needle-sharp.
Was the extensive Rakuuna presence due to the Everlys making sure Charis’s allies didn’t try to rescue her? Or was it Queen Bai’elsha ensuring that the Everlys didn’t double cross her? Maybe both were worried that Charis, Holland, and Nalani would try to run.
Charis had no intention of running. She’d promised herself the night she’d sailed away from Calera that she’d return with a vengeance and either secure freedom for her people or die trying. Tonight, one way or the other, her quest would come to an end.
Queen Bai’elsha sat at the end of the table to the far right—a place of honor without being given the same ranking as the Calerans who would be seated at the head table with the Montevallians. Charis studied the Rakuuna queen in her sheer green sleeveless gown, its flowing swaths of fabric reminding her of the ocean’s current. Bai’elsha’s dark eyes were watchful, her pale lips parted to reveal her fangs.
Did the Rakuuna know she’d been slighted? Did she care? Or was she so singularly focused on making sure her deal with the Everlys came through that nothing else mattered?
She hoped it was the latter, because Bai’elsha’s desperation and the small pouch of moriarthy dust were the only leverage Charis possessed.
“Your Highness, how lovely you look.” Ferris approached, his voice carrying to the surrounding nobility, who immediately fell silent. “Of course, I realize you’d prefer we address you as Your Majesty, but since we haven’t held a legal coronation yet, the council feels obligated to proceed according to Caleran law.”
Charis tore her gaze from Bai’elsha and faced him. So he’d already begun to make his case against her. Accusing her of flaunting Caleran law in a clear grab for power would only play well with nobility who already suspected the Willowthorns of caring about power above people. She took the measure of the room again, slowly this time, and her heart sank.
Every person in attendance was a name on Lord Thorsby’s list of those who’d chosen loyalty to the Rakuuna above their own people. There wasn’t a single ally to the Willowthorns in the room. Would they even care if they learned of the Everlys’ complicity? Or would they believe the Everlys, like themselves, bore no responsibility for the invasion and had simply been pragmatic in their choices?
Of course, people whose loyalty was only to themselves were also no true ally to the Everlys. Maybe if Charis could somehow convince them she was the better choice to help them save their own wealth and position, they might turn on Ferris and his father like starving wolves.
She faced Ferris and spoke with icy precision. “I’m curious which members of the council decided to meet in secret and declare that the coronation held on a Caleran ship by a Caleran captain before the required number of noble witnesses was illegal. Since Lord Thorsby and Lady Ollen have already accepted the coronation’s outcome, that would leave your father, Lady Whitecross, and Lady Channing. Lady Whitecross has not been seen since the night of the invasion. Lady Channing was revealed to be a traitor and is dead. So that leaves...” She pretended to tick council members off with her fingers until she had just one finger raised in the air. “Your father, acting without the rest of the council, deciding that he alone could dictate whether the true heir to the throne received her crown. Am I missing anything?”
Holland made a scornful noise behind Charis, but thankfully kept his thoughts to himself. There might be a moment that evening when Charis would need Holland’s forceful insistence on speaking only the unvarnished truth, but that time hadn’t come yet.
Thunderclouds gathered in Ferris’s eyes, though his expression remained excruciatingly polite. “Perhaps we can sort out the misunderstanding once we’ve finalized the treaty with King Alaric. He awaits us at the head table.”
Charis sensed Tal stiffen at her side, and she glanced past Ferris to see King Alaric at the opposite end of the room, the purple jewels knotted into his long, graying blond hair glittering beneath the chandeliers. He looked at Tal and smoothed his maroon and black dress coat as though his hands needed something to do.
Prince Vahn stood to Alaric’s right, his gaze finding Charis’s and holding. His mouth still held the hint of cruelty she’d seen months before, but there was a shadow in his brown eyes that she couldn’t identify.
On Alaric’s left stood a tall young woman with blue eyes and Tal’s jawline. Her maroon gown was accented by a silver sword sheathed at her waist. She barely glanced at Charis. Her full attention was on Tal, and the relief on her face made Charis decide that she liked Tal’s sister, Zale, a great deal more than she did the rest of his family.
“How are we going to sort out a misunderstanding about Charis’s title after finalizing the treaty?” Tal asked. “You told us King Alaric planned to kill us all once the ceremony was complete.”
Ferris glanced around as though worried about others overhearing and said softly, “Yes, that seems to be his plan. But Father and I have been working to get a different bargain into place, so just go along with whatever happens, and you’ll be safe.”
“Tal is already safe,” Nalani said. “We’re the ones in danger.”
“That’s what I meant.” Ferris sounded impatient. “All of you will be safe.”
Interesting. Charis swept past Ferris and headed toward the Montevallians. Ferris wanted her to believe he was still on her side. Either he was worried she posed a threat—unlikely, or he wouldn’t have even allowed her into the room—or there were at least a few people in the crowd who the Everlys were unsure of. They needed her to be compliant so they could incriminate her before she even had a chance to put up a defense.
Charis planned to be anything but compliant.
The nobles in attendance murmured as Charis, Tal, and Reuben began heading toward the Montevallians. Ferris kept pace beside them. Holland and Nalani had paused to take an appetizer from a serving girl’s tray.
As they passed the middle of the room Charis looked to her left. Servants were taking wraps to the coatroom or delivering goblets of fizzy winterberry wine to each guest. One coat bearer met her gaze boldly and held it for a long moment before looking away.
Charis tracked his progress across the room until he entered the coatroom. Was he simply curious about the princess who’d gone missing after the invasion and had returned as a captive queen? Had he been ordered by the Everlys to keep an eye on her?
When he didn’t reappear immediately, Charis kept walking. She couldn’t afford distractions. Her plan to goad Ferris into exposing the Everlys, shift the Calerans’ loyalty, and convince Queen Bai’elsha to align with her was a stack of cards. A single misstep would send the entire thing crashing down.
Tal cleared his throat as they approached his family. Charis turned her attention to King Alaric. She couldn’t warn him of the Everlys’ planned treachery without letting Ferris know that she knew what he’d been hiding. And even if she did warn Alaric, what could he do? He had four guards with him, plus Vahn and Zale. Not nearly enough to fight off both the Rakuuna and any Calerans who’d decided to swear fealty to Ferris instead of Charis. “Princess Charis, how nice to see you again.” Vahn inclined his head respectfully, but his gaze quickly skipped past her to rest on Tal, a speculative gleam in his eyes. “I see you still have your bodyguard in tow.”
“Someone had to care enough to rescue him.” Charis aimed the words at Vahn but looked to Alaric, whose eyes narrowed as he turned from her to examine Tal. Never mind that Charis hadn’t actually followed through on her plan to rescue Tal. Between Vahn, Alaric, and Charis, she was the only one who’d even entertained the idea.
“Ah, so you know his identity now.” Vahn sounded amused. “And his head is still attached to his shoulders. I guess you aren’t really the formidable opponent he said you’d be.”
“I’m no longer an opponent of anyone from Montevallo.”
She looked hard at Vahn, willing him to be even half as intuitive as Tal. Would he understand that Charis had other enemies circling?
“We should take our seats,” Ferris said, stepping between Charis and Vahn as if to direct the Montevallians to their designated chairs. “The ceremonial feast is about to begin.”
Charis scanned the room once more, heart pounding as her gaze skipped from one person to the next. Not a friend in the bunch. Not even the servants would look at her. Only Bai’elsha met her eyes, but Charis couldn’t read the expression in the Rakuuna queen’s black eyes.
Charis was seated between Tal and Ferris, with Holland and Nalani just down from Tal. Alaric sat across from her, flanked by Vahn and Zale. Lord and Lady Everly sat beside the Montevallians. The head chair was empty. She supposed the Everlys wanted it to symbolize that Calera was without an official ruler until the wedding ceremony and coronation took place after the feast.
“I’d like a real explanation for why you’re suddenly calling me Your Highness when you’ve spent two weeks calling me Your Majesty,” she said to Ferris as the first course was placed in front of them. Let him think she was anxious and wanted him on her side. The closer you kept your enemy, the easier it was to cut them off at the knees.
Ferris’s gaze shot toward his father and then at those seated at the surrounding tables.
“Laws and traditions must be upheld,” he said primly, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. “We can’t afford for Alaric to think we aren’t marrying his heir to the proper ruler of Calera. He could back out of the treaty.”
Except Alaric wasn’t the one worried about keeping up the appearance of following Caleran law. Lord Everly was. And he would only worry about that if he wasn’t sure he had enough support for the coup he had staged.
Maybe no one in the room would meet Charis’s eyes, but that didn’t mean they were all convinced they should support the Everlys. They simply didn’t want to be killed by the Rakuuna as punishment for going against what was planned. This pageantry was for their benefit. To assure their continued loyalty once the monsters had gone back to Te’ash.
If Charis could take the Rakuuna out of the equation, maybe she—as well as the Montevallians, Holland, and Nalani—had a chance of surviving what was to come.
“I’d like to hear more about the bargain you’ve made.” Charis lifted her spoon.
Ferris paused, his next bite of spiced pumpkin soup hovering over his bowl. “What bargain?” His gaze shot to his father and then back to her as a frown pinched his brow.
She leaned close and said softly, “The one you said you and your father made. The one you said keeps all of us safe.”
Ferris set his spoon down. “I can’t—I’m not at liberty to share all the details just now.”
“Why wouldn’t you be at liberty to share the details with your queen?” Charis arched an eyebrow and managed to swallow a bite of soup, though her stomach pitched.
“Father doesn’t think it wise,” Ferris said. Charis longed to wipe the smug condescension off his face.
Nalani leaned past Tal and said, “It isn’t just his decision to make, Ferris.”
“Father is a trusted council member.” Ferris’s tone was sharp.
“And I am your queen.” Charis watched with satisfaction as Ferris’s cheeks reddened. He might be a much better liar than she’d ever given him credit for, but he was far too emotional to keep the truth under wraps for long.
“Just trust us, Charis. This will be over soon,” Ferris muttered, turning away as the soup was cleared and a plate of roasted winter vegetables with cream sauce was set down in its place.
Alaric leaned forward and raised his voice to be heard clearly. “I’m pleased to see you alive and well.” His gaze moved from Charis to Tal and back again. “This business with your kingdom has been most concerning.”
“It has been concerning to all of us as well,” Lord Everly said from his place two seats down. “We’re simply grateful that you’ve brought payment for the Rakuuna so that we may honor our treaty with you and move forward as allies.”
“It does seem strange, though, that the Rakuuna are only now accepting King Alaric’s payment when they could have had what they needed much earlier.” Charis raised her voice as though to make sure Lord Everly could hear her. The nobility nearby grew quiet as they listened.
Lord Everly’s cheeks flushed pink. “Who can understand the mind of a monster?”
Charis shrugged and pushed her plate aside, no longer interested in pretending to be hungry. “I don’t find the Rakuuna difficult to understand. Or perhaps you were speaking of a different kind of monster?”
“The Rakuuna are the only monsters here.” Lord Everly sat back as the servants cleared his dish, and then he leaned past Zale to speak to Alaric. “The strain of this situation has been difficult on all of us, but Charis and the Farragin twins seem less worried over the outcome.”
Holland tossed his fork down. “Perhaps you’d like to see just how worried I am?”
Lord Everly drew himself up straight. “You lack any sort of manners.”
Nalani elbowed Holland before he could reply.
“I’m sure Charis’s mother trained her well,” Zale said, her voice firm but kind. “She was simply managing a crisis, and her two closest heirs followed her lead.”
“A leader cannot risk showing too much emotion when those who depend on her need to see strength.” Alaric lifted his fork to his lips, but then paused and looked at Charis. “However, I do have a few questions I’d like answered before we proceed with the wedding that will bind our kingdoms together.”
“Yes, of course.” Ferris pushed his food around on his plate. Apparently committing treason was sapping him of his appetite. “What questions do you have?”
Alaric didn’t look away from Charis. “Why did I receive contradictory messages from Calera?”
She frowned. It was time to put on a show and hope those around her bought what she was selling. “What do you mean? I sent you two pallorens, and neither of those messages contradicted each other.”
Vahn pushed his plate away untouched, watching Charis closely.
Ferris cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but Alaric got there first.
“Your emissary in Arborlay offered plans different from yours.” He took a bite and continued speaking around the mouthful. “I get worried when it seems that a queen doesn’t know what her underlings are doing behind her back.”
“Underling?” Ferris clenched his fork hard enough to turn his knuckles white. “I am in line for the throne, and with Charis and the Farragins gone, it was up to me to open negotiations with you.”
Charis met Alaric’s gaze. “I hope you’ll forgive the confusion Ferris caused. He apparently didn’t realize I was not only alive, but actively negotiating with our allies to get help taking back our kingdom. Once he learned his true queen already had things well in hand, of course he was delighted to step down from a role he no longer needed to play.”
Ferris opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Lady Everly knocked her plate off the table. It struck the marble floor with a tremendous crash and shattered.
There was a brief moment of silence as though the room itself was holding its breath, and then from the wall closest to Charis’s table, the coat bearer who’d met her eyes whipped a dagger from beneath his sleeve and yelled, “Death to traitors!”
From all around the room, others wearing service uniforms dropped what they were holding, pulled weapons from hidden sheaths, and attacked.