Chapter 28 #2
The queen had the sense to look wary as Arla’s voice lowered into that lethal softness she reserved for the likes of those who were moments away from finding themselves impaled on the end of her blade.
‘Why did you invite me here?’
Mara ran her tongue over her brilliant white teeth, and then it was like a weight had been lifted from the queen’s shoulders. The facade dropped, that impenetrable royal act plunging like a rock as she let the words tumble out of her mouth.
‘I want you to train with my soldiers. You have skills they could only dream of possessing, and though I refuse to send my army to war with Kastonia, I think it is inevitable we will be caught up in it somehow. I want them ready to march, trained by someone lethal. Perhaps in return they can teach you something of archery. I hear it is not a skill in which you are as adept as you would have the world believe.’
What?
She was certain disbelief danced in every line of her face … and then she was laughing. So hard her stomach ached with it.
‘You want me to train your army?’ She couldn’t stop the words that burst from her lips ensconced in laughter. Surely the rest of the wedding party were looking now, stretching their necks to see who had the audacity to laugh in the queen’s face.
She didn’t care.
‘I only speak truths, Miss Reinhart.’ Though the situation was entirely laughable there was not an ounce of amusement on the queen’s face.
She didn’t jest, didn’t use the words as a cover for something else, as a guise to manipulate Arla into something she couldn’t yet see.
Arla didn’t miss the fact the queen had used her old name.
‘You couldn’t have put any of this in a letter?’ Arla asked, a brow arched as ire flashed in Mara’s green eyes.
The queen squared her shoulders. ‘Would you have come?’
Clever.
‘No,’ Arla said. ‘No, I wouldn’t.’
‘Precisely.’
Now the words had settled, she was beginning to think them through.
Perhaps training with a new army wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Mara was right, she was poor at archery.
She had laughed with Hark about it that night in the tavern before the world had descended into shit.
And to train again, properly, with her favourite weapon – with an army no less …
it was too tempting. No one at Flambriar would be able to blame her for it.
They’d seen the way she spent hours pushing herself or duelling anyone who dared to lift a sword against her. They knew she was bored.
And gods, she’d missed the structure of training with the royal guard at Castle Grey.
‘I will train with your army,’ she said, eyes watching for any twitch of movement in Mara’s face that would indicate she had been tricked.
‘But I want an alliance for Flambriar. If I give my skills and time to your soldiers, they had better not be used against me. Ever. And if we go to war, I want your vow that you will come to our aid.’
Mara’s skin blanched, her lips trembling slightly before she seemed to remember who she was.
‘Perhaps we can discuss this somewhere private?’
‘No,’ Arla said. ‘You wanted this conversation in the middle of a wedding, in a hall filled with people because you wanted them to see you win against the famed King’s Assassin.
Don’t give in now, Mara. I’m sure you can twist them into supporting you, whatever answer you’re about to give me, and I suggest you make it one I want to hear. ’
Here she was. Arla had missed her machiavellian side that took delight in the panic of her opponents. It had been too long since she had allowed herself to become the girl Hadalyn had groomed her to be.
The queen took a deep breath, perhaps to steady herself, and looked Arla square in the eyes.
‘I will not send my people to war, not when Elrod is rumoured to have men that are twisted and cursed. But you have my assurance that Malarye will not march against Flambriar. Ever. We may not come to your aid, Miss Reinhart, but we will not be your enemy, either.’
‘Coward.’
Arla was inclined to agree with her dragon.
Half of her wanted to scream at the queen. To tell her how pathetic it was. How ridiculous it had been to invite Arla here to train her army, only to refuse aid should it ever come to that.
But the other half, the half that knew how important it was to have a friend, even if they said they would not fight, was roaring on behalf of Flambriar.
Malarye might not send soldiers, but if Arla could learn something from them, it was worth it, wasn’t it?
If she could learn skills to take back to her own people, to build her own army, surely that would count for something if Kastonia ever came for them?
And … well Arla was clever. Had learnt from the very best when it came to making deals between kingdoms. This arrangement was weighed in Mara’s favour, so much so that Arla was tempted to mount her dragon and fly back home for the insult.
But Cyrus wouldn’t have done that. Cyrus would have sipped his wine and made a show of pondering Mara’s proposition.
If Arla could win the queen’s trust by agreeing to a deal that Arla held the poorer end of, there would be room to manoeuvre later…
She steeled herself, mirroring the strength of the queen before her.
‘You have a deal.’