Chapter 15
I opened a tiny portal to Tsan’s room. I hadn’t dared to contact my lucky yellow since fake killing Tempest because Tyran would use any and every excuse not to carry out our ritual.
My friend’s face filled the portal, and he held a finger to his lips.
I widened the portal, and he stepped through.
Once my silence ghosts were in place—with only a few of them not wearing crowns—Tsan blurted, “There’s a weird button device in my room. Under the table. I don’t know what it is.”
I arched a brow. “You’ve been bugged. It’s a human device. Do you know who did it?”
“An orange told me that the princess was in my room.”
Gratia. I snorted. “She’s going for it.” At Tsan’s look, I added, “She wants to take out Athira, or deliver her a big blow anyway. She suspects her mother and I are conspiring. Has she seen you two together?”
Tsan wrinkled his nose. “Not that I’m aware of, but it’s not hard to link me into everything through my connection to you.”
True. “We’ll need to take care. Gratia will be out of commission for a couple of days at least after her last ritual. We need to make the most of that time. Until then, be careful of every movement and word.”
“My mating took me out of commission for a week,” he replied smugly.
“I’m happy for you.”
Tsan smirked. “I was happy for me too.”
I sat on the armchair. “I’m assuming the answer is no, but I’ll ask the obvious: Do you have the gems?”
“Athira said she was being watched. We were going today, but maybe we should wait another day.”
Ugh. I didn’t want to wait, but… “I agree. I’m not happy about it, but Gratia could be a big problem.”
“If only your mother-in-law was kinder.”
“If only pigs could fly.”
Tsan screwed up his face. “Not following that one.”
“I’m ironically expressing that your statement is impossible.”
“What are pigs?”
“Earth animals. That don’t fly. Never mind, I regret mentioning them.”
My friend shook his head. “What about Tyran? I’ve noticed he’s keeping his distance.”
I nodded. “He’s trying to get out of the ritual. I expected it. I need to find a way to force his hand. I can’t decide if I should dial up the power play or dial it down to achieve that.”
“I’m not sure you have a choice,” Tsan said after a beat. “You haven’t been out in the realm since the last battle.”
I cast him a look. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing much except everyone is talking about how you just won us the war. How the king only protected you while you fought. You killed the most powerful magus to ever exist. You get the point. There are a lot of ‘Syera’ being thrown around, and very few mentions of ’the king.
’ He has to have heard. The servants here are fueling the fire.
They’re pissed after Carmine’s random execution last week.
You have no choice but to lean into this. ”
I released a breath. “I can’t tell if he’ll want to control me more through another ritual, or if he’ll resist losing more power to me through that ritual because I’m growing stronger each time too.”
“Give him something he wants. Lure him in.”
Something he wanted. “More power. But not actual power.”
Tsan stared. “Keep going.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Do you already know the answer?”
“Yes.”
“Well, spit it out.”
“I thought you’d like the glory.” He snorted at my glare. “His magic is at play in the arena, right? You wondered if he went there after the game to recharge. So hold an extra game of Tiers in honor of your next ritual.”
My mouth dropped. “That’s ingenious. He’ll see that as a way to recover any power that he accidentally gives me in the ritual. He’ll go for it.”
Tsan added, “Yes, probably. In the meantime, throw your power around. Make him aware that you know what the realm is talking about.”
I hummed. “I really hope this doesn’t backfire.”
“Because then you’ll still be in the same place?”
“Or chained to Tyran’s side,” I said, then cleared my throat at my slip.
Tsan tilted his head. “Tyran?”
I lifted a shoulder, as my heart skipped a few beats. “Calling him that helps me separate… everything.”
I had to use the word “separate.” My answer hung between us until my lucky yellow eyed me. He said, “Whatever helps. What’s the next move?”
One thousand possible moves, as always.
“Go down to the realm.”
Tsan cocked a brow. “Why?”
“You just said that I should throw my power around. I’ll go on a palanquin so as many demons see me as possible.”
I hated palanquins.
“In the meantime, try to act normal,” I told him. “Gratia’s watching.”
“I’ll do my best, but before I go, Yiti was wondering whether you’ll want a special gown for Gratia’s ceremony, and for your own ritual?”
I ripped a coat out of the wardrobe and shrugged into it. “Why doesn’t Yiti ask me herself?”
“Because you’re the future queen, and she won’t come without being summoned. But she’s wondering.”
She can keep wondering. I dismissed the jealous thought. Mostly because I didn’t want to look petty in front of Tsan. I sighed, then swiped up a quill, pumping it in the ink pot on the small desk in my room.
Yiti,
Yes, I need two gowns.
Do whatever.
I waved the sheet in the end, then shoved it into Tsan’s hands. He read the letter, and a smile appeared on his face.
“Something funny?” I demanded.
He smiled. “Not at all, my friend. Have a great day.”
He’d called me “my friend.” On purpose. To cater to my ego. I threw him a glare, and once he was gone, I closed the portal to his room, then stepped through another portal to the front entrance.
“The queen requires a palanquin,” I declared.
Ten soldiers stood guard outside the front entrance, and one dashed away. Sooner than I would have thought possible, my most hated mode of royal transportation appeared, carried by eight servants.
“Will you require a guard, mate-intended?” a soldier asked.
I cut him a look. “Do you think I need one, demon?”
“No, mate-intended. No one thinks that.”
I stepped into the palanquin and sat on the throne within. “To… “ Dang. Where should I pretend to go? “To my brother-in-law’s smithy,” I declared, then added, “Via the markets.”
“Which market would you like to visit, my queen?” a servant asked, an orange.
By calling me “my queen,” she’d proved herself braver than the ten soldiers who’d resumed their posts outside the fortress entrance.
“All of the markets between the fortress and the smithy,” I replied. “At a leisurely pace.”
The palanquin rocked as the eight servants split into pairs and set the corner poles atop their shoulders.
We started down the hill, and Tsan hadn’t been wrong. Whispers broke out at my passing. Entire markets fell quiet at the sight of me. Bows, curtsies, and wide-eyed looks from children.
I listened to snippets of their blurted comments. Powerful. Queen. Triumphant.
If Tyran had wanted to ensure the realm turned against me if I didn’t kill Tempest, then he’d created the opposite.
There was an unsettling reverence in the demons I passed, and they only viewed me this way because Tyran had made sure to place the potential victory at my feet.
Surely he hadn’t intended for this to happen.
The servants turned us down a smaller lane, and the palanquin rocked again as they lowered it to the ground outside the smithy.
I considered the nondescript business. The demon word Ithdn was forged into the metal side hanging above the door, meaning Smithy. Otherwise, the dust-covered walls of the place were no different to those surrounding it.
Turned out that I had an excuse for being here.
I barged inside.
Raes’s brother yelped, and ashes flew through the air. His father jerked and tipped over a bucket of water.
His mother regarded me from a desk across the room.
She stood and curtsied. “Queen Syera. An honor. How can we help you?”
Raes’s mother was one cool cucumber. I waited until the father and brother bowed and blurted greetings too.
I said brightly, “I was in the area, and thought to visit my new family. Are you all coming to the ceremony?”
The mother answered, “Princess Gratia kindly invited us. Yes, we will go. We have not had a day off in a long time.”
Her answer derailed me. “How is business?”
“Much better,” she admitted. “Thanks to what you did.”
I smirked. “Gratia was the one to declare your family as the royal blacksmiths.”
The mother’s eyes spoke volumes about what she wanted to say, but wouldn’t. Yes, I’d given Gratia a very firm nudge to get her to do that. “There was also your father’s sword that we sold,” she said instead.
I strolled to the remaining weapons on the wall. They’d sold over half since my last visit. “I have found myself wondering why my father chose that blade over the one he actually commissioned.”
Raes’s father bowed again. “The blade you have is certainly superior. My father could never figure out why either. But your father was adamant.”
I hadn’t come to question them about my father, but something in the blacksmith’s tone caught my attention. “Did he say anything at the time?”
Raes’s mother said, “Just that the sword wasn’t for him. He wasn’t the rightful owner. It wouldn’t serve him.”
Wouldn’t serve him. “Was there anything else strange about that interaction?”
They exchanged looks.
Raes’s father cleared his throat. “Not that interaction, but your father would bring the blade to the smithy several times a year for sharpening. When he came, he always requested that one of us take the blade into the heart of the desert and leave it there for three days and three nights. It used to be my job, in fact. I wasn’t allowed to stay by the sword.
He always ordered me to leave the sword and return for it, or my life would be forfeit.
I was always terrified that I’d forget exactly where I’d placed it. ”
I stared at the blacksmith.
Father, you genius.
I’d never felt much of anything toward my father, but pride found me now.
This was how he’d resisted Tyran—or part of how at least. He’d charged the sword with Istg power.
He’d kept an antidote to the wrath curse belted around his waist, and that had allowed him to retain more of himself.
He’d used Tyran’s own trick with the crown in a slightly different way.
I couldn’t wait to tell Carmine in our next dream.
I said, “Thank you. That is interesting indeed. I can’t think why he gave that request.” I turned from the weapons. “I came for help in selecting a gift for Raes and Gratia. I can guess what Gratia would like, but what of Raes?”
“Weapons,” his brother grunted, then hastily said, “my queen.”
“And what is it that you’re working on?” I asked the father.
He hesitated, then said, “A weapon for his gift.”
“What else does Raes like?”
“He enjoys sehd, my queen,” the mother said.
Excellent. The stabbing version of chess. “Thank you. I will see you all at the ceremony.”
“You will, my queen, and congratulations on your upcoming ritual to the king too. The realm is eager to see how powerful you grow with the last rituals in the mating.” She curtsied, and the men remembered to bow.
I left the smithy, and the eight servants scrambled upward from their perches on the doorsteps of surrounding buildings.
To an orange, I said, “Please find me the most exquisite version of sehd that you can find. It will be a present for my brother-in-law. Have the vendor charge it to the king.” I started to climb onto the palanquin, then said, “And purchase eight new cloaks to fit those who have carried this palanquin today. That can be charged to the king also.”
Her eyes widened. “Thank you, my queen.”
I sat in the throne, ignoring her gratitude. “To the fortress. Via the same route.”
He would have felt my journey to the realm. He’d know that I would have witnessed the realm’s growing sentiment toward me. The sentiment he’d sparked.
And my magus power wasn’t exactly sending me any reassurance on that front.