Chapter Forty #3
Silas nodded. “Thank you for the information. We’ll make what preparations we can to guard against the attack.”
“The Queen’s Garden is willing to stay and help you defend your shores,” Moira offered.
“For a price, I assume.” One he didn’t know if they could pay.
They were still reviewing the contents of the Vault, but it was clear the thieves had taken a decent chunk of the palace’s funds.
Then there’s the salaries of the cleaning crew, the cost of repairs to the palace, the new treaty with Arnsveld,
“Shipping contracts,” Moira said bluntly. “I want my crew established in legitimate trade routes.”
Silas looked at Cal. “That’s more the Guild’s area than mine.”
“As long as I remain the head of it,” Cal replied tentatively.
“They’ve refused to elect anyone in your absence, since officially, you were on a routine trade mission.”
Griselda snorted. “Or running away from a coup. Were you afraid it would fail or succeed?”
Silas watched Cal carefully, also concerned with the answer. Cal had never been Silas’ biggest supporter—in fact, they openly butted heads on several occasions, including inviting Archer to visit.
Cal locked eyes with Silas. “Officially, you ordered me to visit Percosa to finalize a trade agreement. Unofficially, I already suspected you were not … yourself. I could either cooperate and participate in the ruination of my own kingdom, or I could leave to find allies elsewhere. Unfortunately, the ship I was on conveniently ran into a maelstrom while we were out to sea. If The Queen’s Garden hadn’t been nearby, I would have drowned with the rest of the crew. ”
So Alistair allowed Cal to leave but never intended to let him live. Alistair had done the same to Silas, allowing Archer to take him away only to try to drown him in a river later. “I hope you’ll understand that it might take some time for me to trust you again, Adviser.”
Cal nodded, seeming relieved by the formal address.
“The palace is undergoing some reconstruction,” Silas said delicately.
He didn’t have the energy to explain the fire and everything else right now.
“So I don’t know the state of your office and old rooms, Cal, but Strider Morten should have more information for you.
As for everyone else, I can find somewhere for you to stay in the recently cleaned rooms.”
“My crew and I will remain on the ship,” Moira replied as she stood up.
“Not me,” Echo piped up, thankfully with their own voice. “I’ll keep an eye on dear, sweet Em here. Make sure she settles in all right.”
Moira rolled her eyes. “And I’m sure that has nothing to do with silk sheets and down pillows.”
Echo gasped, placing a hand on their chest in exaggerated affront. “As if I would abandon you for such simple pleasures as palace food and hot running water.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Echo,” Silas said. “But the renovations haven’t finished on the kitchens yet. You’ll need to find somewhere to eat in the city.”
“Dammit,” Echo muttered. “Never mind, Captain, I’ll come with you—”
“Too late, you’ve already volunteered. Have fun guarding your princess.”
Silas’ brow furrowed in confusion as he looked to Em, whose cheeks flushed at the title. “They don’t think you and I are—”
She shook her head frantically. “I’ve already cleared that up, I swear.” Her nose scrunched in displeasure. “Echo calls me princess because they know I find it annoying.”
“What was that, Em?” Echo asked, holding a hand up to their ear. “Speaking my praises.”
She rolled her eyes at Silas and gestured as if to say ‘See?’
As usual, Em’s sunny presence found a way to warm even the coldest depths of Silas’ heart. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Em,” he said, pulling her into a hug.
Dampness spread across his shoulder as she sniffled. “I just want Mama and Penn and everyone else to be safe too.”
Silas’ arms tightened around her, as if he could hold together the pieces of their breaking hearts.
When they separated, Emmaline swiped at her red, watery eyes and hid her face. Silas turned his back on her to give her some privacy as he addressed the sailors. “Thank you for escorting her safely here and for your warning about Varro.”
Moira’s steely gray eyes locked with his. “That’s not the only reason I’m here, Majesty.”
“Yes, the trade routes, of course. I won’t forget. We'll meet again tomorrow morning to discuss everything.”
She stared him down for a moment longer before her lips spread in a sharp smile. “Perfect. I’ve got a present waiting for you on the ship. I’ll bring it to the meeting.” With that perplexing statement, she turned on her heel and guided her crew out of the room.
“Come on, Em,” Silas said, offering her his arm. “Let’s find you a room.”
Even with all the trouble her arrival had heralded—Alistair possessing Valerian, Varro’s new alliance, her father’s pending attack—he was still happy to have her safe under his roof.
The slight buzz of magic pulsing in his veins warned him that Adelaide’s orders were still in effect, but even without them, Silas would do everything in his power to protect his friend.