Page 40 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

“Well, that is certainly an expedient way to manage things,” Ambassador Shyrn said, grudging approval in his voice. “She might consider simply cutting out their tongues, though. That way you don’t lose a servant who’s already been trained to your standards.”

Rage simmered in Charis, bright and burning, and she gripped her knife handle until her palm ached. Time to change the subject before she said something she couldn’t take back. “Ambassador Shyrn, I would like to hear more about the unrest in the northern seas.”

“Unrest?” He took his time scraping his spoon against the bottom of his bowl to get the last of his soup.

“Yes. We’ve heard rumors of strange ships. Merchant vessels reporting hearing odd things at night. There have been three more supply ships sunk within the last few weeks, which hardly seems like a coincidence. What have you heard?”

“I’ve heard nothing.” He set his spoon down. “Now, about this war—”

“How can you have heard nothing?” Charis asked, her voice sharp. “The northern seas are right in Rullenvor’s backyard.”

“Perhaps because there is nothing to hear.” He met her gaze and then looked askance at Tal as if irritated by her bodyguard’s close proximity.

“My secretary was very clear about the reports we’ve received.” The rage was in her voice, just a shadow of it, but still Ambassador Shyrn drew back as if struck.

Lady Everly leaned forward as her plate was cleared and a slice of ginger apple cake with frothy whipped cream was set down. “This is exactly why you must allow Ferris to come to these appointments with your secretary, Your Highness. He has quite the head for politics and can help you discern which things deserve your attention.”

Charis bared her teeth in a semblance of a smile, her hand aching as she clenched her knife. “Are you suggesting I don’t have a head for politics, Lady Everly?”

The woman blanched. “Of course not, Your Highness. Merely saying that Ferris could be utilized in a much more prominent role than he currently has. Lord Thorsby himself said that very thing last week at a brunch with Lord Everly.”

Lord Thorsby appeared to choke on his drink.

“Your Highness?” Tal’s voice was louder than usual as he bent to her ear. Loud enough to carry to those who surrounded her. “I beg your pardon, but you’ve received an urgent summons from the queen. I’m afraid you will have to skip dessert.”

His fingers brushed her shoulders as he placed his hands on the back of her chair to help scoot it away from the table. She anchored herself to the steady pressure of his hands and drew in a fortifying breath. Wiping her expression of any trace of emotion, she smiled at Ambassador Shyrn, Lord Thorsby, Lady Channing, and Lady Everly.

“If you’ll excuse me, I must take my leave.”

She stood and walked away before they’d finished getting up to bow and murmur “Your Highness.”

Once they were inside the carriage and had left the Rynce house behind, Charis flexed her aching palm, where the shape of a knife handle was still imprinted. The fury that had erupted within her at the casual mention of killing her staff still pulsed through her veins with every heartbeat. The nerve of them—all of them. Treating the death of servants like it was nothing more important than the soup they were served for lunch. Acting as though Charis hadn’t been training all her life to manage a war-torn kingdom and the politics that came with it. Insinuating that a spineless, ingratiating boy like Ferris Everly could ever—

“Please breathe, Your Highness.” Tal’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Instinctively, she drew in a slow, deep breath, feeling the tightness within expand painfully as she forced air past the noose of fury that held her captive.

“And you might think about releasing your skirt before you tear it.”

She looked down and found her fists clenched around the pale gold silk. Slowly she released her grip and took another breath. The fury still simmered, a beast escaped from its cage. She reached for something normal to say. Something to help her regain the thread of her control so she could be the princess she was expected to be by the time they reached the palace.

“I wonder what this summons is all about.”

“There is no summons.”

Charis froze, staring at Tal. “Then why am I in this carriage?”

“Because you looked two seconds away from stabbing Ambassador Shyrn with your butter knife and then using your spoon to carve out Lady Everly’s heart. And I really didn’t think poor Thorsby’s handkerchief could take the sweat that would surely have appeared once you decided to go after him as well.” Tal’s voice held a flicker of the anger that lived within her.

“You made up a summons to get me out of the luncheon?”

“I apologize for lying, Your Highness.” He held her gaze. “But I don’t apologize for getting you out of there. Bunch of vultures circling with no thought for anyone but themselves.” He whipped an imaginary handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed his forehead. “Oh, this is awful. Just terrible. I have one of the most esteemed responsibilities in all the kingdom, but I’d rather people were always happy with me than take a stand on anything of principle.”

Charis was surprised to find herself smiling. “That is a rather accurate assessment of Lord Thorsby.”

He pretended to shove a large bite of food into his mouth. “This is the worst thing I’ve ever eaten. No, no, don’t take the plate. I haven’t licked it yet. And by the way, I know more about running your kingdom than you do, but strangely enough I have no idea what’s happening in my own backyard.”

“Ambassador Shyrn is insufferable, isn’t he?”

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