Page 27 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

“A town? Were any soldiers stationed there?” Holland rose to his feet as if he could take Montevallo in that instant.

“No.” Charis spat the word out. Let its terrible truth fall, a dead weight that shattered on impact.

“But then . . . who defended the town?” Nalani looked from Charis to Holland as if one of them could give her an answer that would wipe out the horror she knew was coming. Even Brannigan dropped his pretense of paying attention to his papers and watched Charis closely.

“No one.” Charis let her fury scorch the noose around her throat and drew a breath that seared her lungs like fire. “They were massacred. A village of farmers, and there’s nothing left but destroyed homes and the bodies of the older men, women, and children who lived there. A few escaped and brought word to the nearest military outpost, but by the time our soldiers arrived, it was too late.”

Tal made a noise in the back of his throat, and Charis met his stricken gaze for a moment.

“I’m joining the army.” Holland drew his sword. “I don’t care if I’m a year away from being of age.”

“Mother will never allow—”

“Well, we can’t just keep doing nothing but going to useless balls and teas and lessons as if half of our kingdom isn’t a smoking ruin.” Holland’s voice shook.

“What we’re doing isn’t useless,” Nalani said quietly. “We’re learning to help Charis lead the kingdom. We’re forging relationships with those whose coffers we will need, whose connections we will exploit, and whose children we might very well send to war one day. We’re building their trust, learning their secrets, and putting ourselves in a position to be of use when Charis takes the throne. And seers forbid, if something happens to Charis, you’re next in line and need to know what to do.”

“There won’t be a throne to take if Montevallo isn’t stopped.” Holland raised his sword to emphasize his point.

Charis rose too, her movements fluid and precise, her body craving the feel of a weapon in her hand, though she knew it was more complicated than that. If weapons alone could win the war, it would already be won. But fighting a kingdom that could hide in the mountains and see the Caleran army coming from any direction, a kingdom that had started the war by assassinating Charis’s grandmother, that had enslaved a swath of northern territory, and that killed innocent farmers and soldiers alike as if there was no difference required more than weapons. It required strategy. Cunning. And a ruthless will to do whatever had to be done to protect Calera’s people.

Charis let rage sink into her blood until it felt like courage.

Whatever it took to find justice for her people and bring Montevallo to its knees, Charis was going to do it.

Twelve

CHARIS MARCHED ACROSS the grand hall, Tal one step behind, while Reuben and Elsbet flanked them both. Her blood ran hot. Her thoughts felt sharp as knives.

Montevallo had to be stopped. Her people couldn’t continue to survive such atrocities, and if King Alaric kept sending assassins, the royal family might not be able to survive either. But how could they stop Montevallo when they couldn’t effectively take the fight to them? Every other solution proposed by the council involved giving King Alaric the territory he’d already taken in the north, and that was unacceptable.

“Your Highness.” Reuben interrupted her thoughts as they neared the door of the war room.

“What is it?”

“This latest act of aggression from Montevallo, coupled with the attempt on the queen’s life three weeks ago and the presence of another spy in your chambers, underscores the need to be sure we surround you only with staff we absolutely trust.”

Something hot and razor-tipped unfurled in Charis’s chest, and she stopped walking to face him. “Very well. I accept your resignation.”

He blinked, and there was fury in his eyes. “I’m not offering it.”

“Oh, then what were you offering to do?” Charis’s words sliced the air, full of rage and grief. “Kill more of my staff?”

A vein throbbed in his neck, but his voice was even. “If necessary.”

She wanted to argue. To dismiss him on the spot. But they both knew the person who ultimately decided if Reuben would kill again, the person who kept him in his current position, was the one person in the kingdom who outranked Charis.

Charis changed tactics. “I fail to see how an invasion of a small town in the north has anything to do with my staff.”

Reuben’s gaze slid to Tal. “Under the circumstances, I think it best to only have staff who come from the city of Arborlay or the surrounding countryside.”

The hot, sharp thing in Charis’s chest grew. Tal, who’d done nothing but faithfully serve her father and then her. Who’d seen that she was falling apart and had stepped in to make sure she took care of herself. Who seemed to want nothing more than some friendly conversation and to do his job well. This was the boy Reuben had decided shouldn’t be trusted?

“I disagree,” she said in a tone that brooked no discussion. “Under the circumstances, I think our people from the north have the most reason to be loyal to me.”

Tal shifted on his feet, but Charis only had eyes for Reuben, whose lip was curling in scorn.

“Unless they blame you for the loss of their families and property. Or unless they have loved ones enslaved by Montevallo, making them ripe for bribery.” Reuben waved a hand at Tal as if dismissing him. “You barely know him. There’s no loyalty or relationship built here yet. I’ll find you a bodyguard who—”

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