Page 72 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

“Not listening?” Charis raised her cup and took a delicate sip. “Or not following your advice?”

“It is one and the same.” He pushed his tea aside and leaned forward. “This treaty with Montevallo . . . the council is divided.”

“The council will do what Mother and I have decided is best.” Charis sounded serene, but she watched him carefully.

“Yes, of course, it’s just that . . .” Thorsby seemed to lose his nerve. The handkerchief made another appearance as he dabbed at his brow.

“Speak plainly, Lord Thorsby, or take your leave.”

“This betrothal agreement,” the man burst out. “We are ceding land to Montevallo. Making them pay a mere pittance for use of the northern port. Giving their eldest prince access to our throne. And what do we get in return?”

“Peace,” Charis said firmly. “Enough jewels to rebuild the northern territories—”

“Territories they destroyed!” He pounded his fist on the table. “They should pay for that, and not just in rubies. Several members of the council wanted to invade Montevallo. Give them a taste of the ruin they brought on us. Teach them that there are consequences for the atrocities they’ve committed, but instead, we are offering peace. It does not sit right, Your Highness.” He sagged against the back of the chair, the handkerchief clutched in his hands.

Charis studied him in silence for a bit. It was unlike Thorsby to come undone, but perhaps he had a reason. Finally, she said gently, “Is this about what’s best for the Caleran people? Or is this about Fergus?”

Thorsby crumpled. Tears leaked from his eyes, and his handkerchief was put to use again. “It’s been a year since our son was killed in a Montevallian raid, Your Highness. A year this week.”

“I’m very sorry about Fergus,” Charis said sincerely. “And I understand the desire for vengeance. Truly, I do. Montevallo has been trying to kill me since I was nine.”

“And they just keep trying! If that doesn’t prove that this could quite possibly be a disastrous course of action, what will?”

“What is more disastrous?” Charis asked quietly. “Refusing to cede some of what we want at great cost to our people, or negotiating a contract both sides can live with so that our people stop dying? And I hardly think Alaric will try to assassinate me again when my death means his son won’t get a Caleran crown.”

“Your Highness, we didn’t need to get to this point. We should have taken the fight to Montevallo last year as Lady Whitecross and Lady Ollen advised. We could have figured out how to breach their walls. We could have crushed their villages before they raided ours, and ended the war before last winter.” His voice shook. “If the queen had listened to that advice, Fergus would still be alive.”

“Or he would have died in a raid on a Montevallian village instead of protecting one of our own. Where is the honor in that?” Charis’s voice was silken steel. “It sounds to me as though you have lost confidence in the queen’s governance.”

Thorsby froze, swallowing hard as he met Charis’s eyes. “Oh no, Your Highness. Never that. I simply brought this to you because there are opinions that are not being listened to. Last year, she didn’t listen to opposing views, and look how much we’ve lost since then. I don’t want us to proceed without taking into account everyone’s advice. That is all.”

Charis inclined her head. “Perhaps the anniversary of Fergus’s death is too emotional a time for you to think clearly on how to approach this discussion, Lord Thorsby. I would hate for the queen to get the wrong impression.”

Thorsby nodded quickly, stuffing his handkerchief back in his pocket. “Quite right, Your Highness. This is a very difficult time. And I’ve had Lord Everly and Lady Whitecross in my ear for days. It can sometimes be a trying job balancing the advice of the council and the will of the queen. I apologize for overstepping in this instance.”

“Apology accepted. Now, please, be with Lady Thorsby today and remember Fergus. I will make your excuses at the council meeting this afternoon.” Her tone was kind but left no room for argument.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Thorsby quickly left the room.

Charis sat staring into her cup of cooling tea. It was done. There was no backing out of it now. No other course her life could take.

It was done and the pain scraping her raw would have to wait until darkness fell and she could be alone.

Twenty-Seven

BY SHEER FORCE of will, Charis held herself together through a strategy session with Mother, a council meeting where the members began the task of hammering out the language of the peace treaty, and a host of other obligations that blurred into one long day that seemed to stretch on forever. With her list of duties finished, she’d retired to her rooms, cut her poached fish into tiny bites and ignored her roasted root vegetables entirely, and then turned off her lights as if she planned to go to sleep early.

Not that it mattered. Tal had gone to his room the moment they entered her chambers.

She was alone, and that was never going to change. She just had to figure out how to survive it.

She waited until she heard the evening guards arrive in the corridor outside her chambers. Waited a bit longer to make sure no one was going to knock on her door. To make sure it was past the time Tal usually fell asleep. And then she changed into black pants, a black shirt, boots, gloves, and a thick knitted sweater to keep out the worst of the chilly air.

The night was cold and clear as she stepped onto her balcony. She grasped the balustrade at the far edge, hauled herself over the side, and then stretched her arm out until she could grab the branch of the closest thesserin tree. Once her grip was secure, she pulled herself into the cradle of the tree and shimmied down its trunk.

The grounds were shrouded in shadows, but the thin crescents of the sister moons, surrounded by a sea of silver stars, gave enough light for her to find her way. She kept to the shadows, though she doubted any staff would be out on the grounds, and made her way through the courtyard, past the stables, and across the field that led to the orchard that covered the southern hill. It took almost an hour to walk what usually took her fifteen minutes on horseback, but she was grateful for the burn in her muscles and the heaviness of her breathing.

Putting one foot in front of the other kept her from thinking.

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