Chapter 32
Zadé
Zadé’s feet flew up the stairs as she left the kitchen behind her.
She’d spent too much time trying to scrunch herself into the dumbwaiter—what a stupid name for a box that just went up and down and didn’t wait on anybody—but Princess had been right, she was too tall to fit.
The next best thing she could do was bring her handful of guards and join King Enorathil’s forces in breaching the library.
Princess’s soldiers were decent men, though with the way their feet pounded on the steps at her heels, it was a small miracle half the palace didn’t hear them coming. At least the elven armies were trained to march in time with each other to help disguise their numbers.
They exited the stairwell, leaving the heat of the stoves and the scent of fresh-baked bread behind them.
One of her favorite things about this castle was the thick carpet runners running down most of the central thoroughfares.
She supposed it did an okay job of muffling their footsteps—it was better than nothing.
Only a few minutes later, they turned into the final hallway before their goal. Zadé drew up short. No sounds came from the library. Well, that wasn’t good.
She peeked around the corner.
No soldiers lined the hall, except for the two humans standing guard in front of the doors.
Something settled in Zadé’s gut, pushing a sour taste into the back of her throat. Where were the sun elf forces? Had that stupid, good-for-nothing king betrayed Aliya?
Princess was already in there, and without backup, she’d be caught and possibly killed.
And that would suck even more than Cress’ death, because it would be under Zadé’s watch.
Frowning, Zadé studied the handful of guards behind her.
There weren’t enough to take on the library if the Arcane Inquisitor was present.
She’d heard what he could do, about the power contained in the gem welded to his forehead.
There was no way she and a few humans would overpower everyone to free Princess and the hostages on their own.
They needed the rest of King Enorathil’s troops, and it was looking more and more like he’d betrayed them.
Her palms ached where her fingernails cut into the calloused skin. Pressing her lips into a thin line, Zadé spun on her heel. “New objective,” she whispered as she marched past them. “Something’s happened. The sun elf forces ain’t here. We need ta regroup ‘n come up with a Plan B.”
Another thing she could say about Princess’s people—these guards followed her orders without hesitation or question.
Several minutes later, Zadé braced herself as she threw the doors to the council chamber open before striding inside. The heavy wooden beams slid on well-greased hinges, slamming into the stone walls with a resounding boom. Exactly as she’d been hoping.
Aliya’s father, Baron whatever-his-name-was jumped. If the situation had been less urgent, if Princess hadn’t been in danger, Zadé would’ve laughed. King Enorathil glanced up at her, his lips glued in his perpetual frown. “General Brightleaf?”
The words were respectful; his tone was anything but.
She waved back in the approximate direction of the library. “Why aren’t yer forces where they’re supposed ta be? Prin—Queen Aliya’s countin’ on yeh ta hold up yer end o’ the bargain!”
Roland’s eyes went cold as he turned his focus back to the oversized piece of parchment spread on the table in front of him. “You are out of line.”
Zadé furrowed her brow. She may be, but… “Yeh gave yer word.” Stepping forward, she squinted, reading over his shoulder. “What’s that?”
“An agreement. Aliya’s hand in exchange for the regency.”
Zadé’s eyes danced between the royal and Aliya’s father for several heartbeats before everything clicked into place.
She pierced Baron Whoever-he-was with the strongest glare she could muster.
“Yer sellin’ yer daughter in marriage… again?
” But that couldn’t be right. Princess had already agreed to marry Roland—there was a slice through her left palm to prove it.
Aliya’s father didn’t bother to do more than meet her eyes for a split second as he pressed his quill to the paper and signed below the king.
Wiping a hand over her head, she blinked. Who did that to their own family? And what did Roland want from Aliya’s father bad enough to leave the little weasel in charge of the kingdom in the king’s absence? Not like the elf would tell her.
Zadé glared at Aliya’s father. “She’s a queen, yeh know. She outranks yeh, and can strip yeh of th’ regency if’n she wants.”
Roland’s face was so funny-looking when it turned purple-red. She tucked the image aside for later, when she would laugh her socks off at it in private when Princess’ life wasn’t in danger.
Valek, she’d kill for a drink. The good stuff, not the watered-down crap that passed as elven wine with the humans.
Zadé speared the king with her glare. It would’a been better if she’d had a weapon to do it literally, but regicide was treason, and all. “If’n yeh don’t do somethin’ fast, the Inquisitor’s gunna get his hands on yer future wife, ‘n then all yer best-laid plans’ll fall into th’ moat.”
Roland growled in the back of his throat. “If Miss Larimar can’t keep herself safe, then she had no right to go charging at the Arcane Inquisitor as if she could.”
Zadé shook her head. Many a brave soldier had lost their lives to this man’s cowardice.
Zadé tilted her head as she studied the poor excuse for a king. Perhaps she should encourage Princess to marry him. Then, she’d arrange for him to have an unfortunate accident, leaving Aliya in charge. That would be the best outcome for both realms.
Aliya could become something of a black widow, what with all the kings she could wed then bump off, collecting their power for herself.
Zadé’s eyesight went blurry as she chewed over the idea.
It’d be hard, convincing the sun elves to let a human, their sworn enemy, hold their throne.
Especially with Tsara waiting in the wings.
But Princess—other Princess, Aliya—wasn’t human.
Perhaps she could shape-shift into an elf, and she could swear anyone who knew about her, like Roland’s inner circle, to secrecy.
Zadé eyed the rag-tag bunch of elven nobles, all crowded around the king. With their rumpled clothes and circles beneath their eyes, it was obvious they’d had little sleep and were worse off for it.
They didn’t do much to contribute to the betterment of elven society.
Most were power-hungry leeches, just like Aliya’s nobility.
Possibly she’d do Princess a solid and kill them all rather than forcing them to swear.
Or, better yet, since that was more Elsan’s thing than hers, he could do it.
After all, it would be the least he could do, after pulling that marriage stunt with Tsara.
Zadé shook her head. Communication was key.
She had no idea what the idiotic mountain elf had been thinking, agreeing to something for the benefit of Princess’s kingdom without first talking to Aliya herself.
She was a quality catch, and a queen besides.
It was obvious to anyone the two of them loved each other.
And now, here they were, engaged or married to other people.
Rolling her eyes, she brought her attention back to the present. Roland was staring at her.
“Sorry.” She winced. “What’d yeh say?”
The king’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I asked if you’d managed to gather any intel from the Inquisitor’s forces you located in the kitchens.”
She grimaced. Why was that important now, when he was leaving Princess out to dry? “They’re in th’ dungeons, if’n yeh want ta interrogate them.” Instead of helping his future wife like he promised.
Roland narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t that your job, General?”
Frowning, Zadé shook her head. “No. My job’s ta keep Prin—Queen Aliya and yer people alive. Maybe kill Brooks while I’m at it.”
Roland scowled. He was one of those males who didn’t like being told no. Typical noble.
Zadé’s focus shifted to Tsara. She hadn’t said anything since Zadé arrived. Usually, Tsara had all sorts of interesting things to say. “Yer awfully quiet.”
Tsara pouted, chewing the inside of her cheek.
Zadé glanced around, alarm flashing through her. “Hey, where’s Elsan?”
Tsara furrowed her brow. “Who?”
Rolling her eyes, Zadé exhaled through her nose. “Yer husband. Where’s he?”
Roland cleared his throat. “Somewhere safe until this is over.”
Zadé frowned. “‘Til what’s over?” After Brooks killed Princess? Because that was what was going to happen as soon as he figured out who’d infiltrated his little soiree.
Baron Whatever-his-name-was spoke, drawing Zadé’s attention. “When the Marriage Agreement is finalized and The Arcane Inquisitor is dealt with.”
Zadé snorted. Elsan probably lost his wits when he realized Roland refused to help Aliya like he promised. Knowing Elsan, they’d likely had to knock him out and drag him from the room. She bit back a harsh laugh. Tsara must’ve been pissed her husband cared more for Aliya than her.
Served the wench right.
Tsara’s eyes flashed silver, like she could read Zadé’s thoughts and all.
It was fortunate mind reading wasn’t on the sun elf royals’ talent list. Otherwise, Roland might learn exactly how unpopular he was with his military leadership.
A narcissist like him would never allow such a thing to stand.
He’d tear the army apart from the top down.
But that was a problem for future Zadé. Now, she had to figure out a way to save Princess. Whatever she did would be a whole lot easier with someone like Elsan helping her. Aliya’s guards, too, since they were loyal to Aliya and all.
If she managed to score a Whisperer, and assuming she trusted Princess to have distributed the earplugs to the elven captives as they’d planned, perhaps she could use it to take care of Brooks. That would fix the situation up right nicely.
But first…
She turned to Roland. “Where’d ya put Elsan?”
Tsara stepped forward. “I can show you.”