Page 62 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

Before Mother could fire a list of questions at him, Charis said gently, “Please tell us what happened.”

Junior Officer Meadows tore his gaze from the far wall, glanced at Charis, and had to clear his throat twice before speaking. “We were chasing whatever ships sank the trade delegates, and—”

“Did you see the ships?” Lady Ollen leaned forward, rising halfway out of her chair. “Did you see their flags?”

“I . . . no. I didn’t see anything. I was tacking the mizzen. Had my head down to focus on what I was doing.” He looked at Lady Ollen and then hastily looked down at his boots.

“And then?” Charis prompted.

“Then the ship trembled. The whole thing just”—he raised his hands to mime a large object shaking violently—“and we were thrown off our feet. Before we could even obey the captain’s orders to turn about and fire the cannons, the ship started sinking. The bow was listing, we were sliding along the deck, scraping the wood.” He lifted a finger to touch the scratches along his face. “And then I was in the water.”

“Did the ship that attacked you come from the north or the south?” the queen asked. There were lines of strain around her mouth, and Charis worried her strength wouldn’t last much longer.

He shrugged, looking miserable. “I don’t know, Your Majesty. There was debris in the water. The main mast snapped in half and fell near me. And the noise—” He drew in a deep breath. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“How did you end up back in the harbor?” Lady Whitecross asked, her fingers worrying the lace collar of her ball gown.

“I grabbed on to a plank of wood that had fallen into the water and used it to stay afloat while I made my way back to shore. I managed to get two of my mates onto the plank with me, but the rest . . .” His voice broke, and he tugged hard at the collar of his uniform.

An answering pang of grief ached within Charis. She knew what it was like to feel responsible for the death of a friend. To feel hollowed out and brittle while others expected you to somehow behave as if you weren’t.

“That was very quick thinking. The sailors you saved might have drowned without your help,” Charis said. When he raised his eyes to hers, she said quietly, “I’m very sorry this happened to you.”

The queen made an impatient noise in the back of her throat, and Charis quickly wiped the sympathy out of her expression before turning to face her mother.

“Is there anything else you can tell us that might be helpful?” the queen asked.

He shook his head, his shoulders trembling even as he firmed his chin and tried to meet his ruler’s gaze straight on.

“You are dismissed. Admiral, you will stay.” The queen lowered herself into her chair as Junior Officer Meadows took his leave. When the door had shut behind him, the queen said crisply, “We know nothing more than we did before. And we cannot send ships out again until broad daylight. Admiral?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I want to know who is outside our harbor, where they are hiding, how many ships they have, and I want a plan to destroy them. You will send as many ships as you think necessary once there’s enough light to properly see any enemy ships approach. Get that report to me as soon as possible.” The queen’s tone was steely. “If another kingdom has allied itself with Montevallo, they will regret it.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Admiral Peyton bowed and left the room.

The queen turned to the council and said briskly, “If this was Montevallo, then we may already have the solution on the table.” She met Charis’s eyes as the council members exchanged confused glances.

Charis folded her hands in front of her and assumed a serene expression, as though there were no rage within her. No pain. No tiny whisper longing for a different path.

She didn’t dare look at Tal.

“I’ve come up with a plan for permanent peace with Montevallo,” Charis said. She lifted her chin as a whisper of shock ran through the room and every council member turned toward her. “We’ve sent a palloren to King Alaric offering our terms. If he accepts, the war is over. Including the attacks on our ships, if indeed Montevallo is responsible.” And if Montevallo wasn’t responsible, they’d have a stake in keeping Calera safe, so it would be two kingdoms against whoever was attacking from the sea.

There was a beat of silence, and then Lady Channing said in a strained voice, “What were the terms?”

Charis spoke past the sudden tightness in her throat. “We offered a trade route from Ebbington and my hand in marriage to one of their princes.”

The council erupted.

“We cannot have a Montevallian dog on the throne!” Lady Ollen slapped the table, the large ring she wore making a metallic clinking sound against the wood.

“Preposterous! We need a king we can trust!” Lord Everly rose from his seat. “My own son has been preparing—”

Charis risked a glance at Tal and found him watching her with an inscrutable expression on his face. His jaw clenched when he met her eyes. She looked away.

“Is this how we make them pay for all they’ve done to us?” Lady Whitecross’s voice trembled with fury. “We give them what they want and more? What’s to stop them from taking everything from us once they have their prince in our court?”

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