Page 115 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

“That’s . . . perhaps I failed to mention it at the time, but—”

“Enough.” The queen’s voice cut through Lady Channing’s like a sword. She rose, her icy blue eyes finding her friend’s.

“Charis, you must understand.” Lady Channing reached for the princess.

“No.” Tal stepped between them, his sword out, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Lady Channing staggered back a step.

Beyond the dais, the dancers closest to the stage stumbled to a stop, staring at the drama unfolding before them. The understanding that something was happening spread through the ballroom in waves until every face was turned to the platform as the music stuttered into silence.

“You must understand, my dear, I have the utmost respect for you. The spy was only there to gather information from your private correspondence in case I needed it to help influence you on the correct path once you took the throne. Don’t you see? Only Letha had to die.”

She moved toward Charis again, as if by taking the princess’s hands in her own, all would be forgiven.

“Stop,” Tal snarled from in front of Charis. “One more step and I promise I will make sure your death hurts. One wound for every time you nearly killed her. I’ll choose places that bleed out long and slow.”

“Your loyalty is appreciated, Tal,” Mother said, fury burning in her voice. “But I will personally drive a sword through this traitor’s heart.”

“No, no.” Lady Channing waved her hands. “Charis, please understand. Letha was the problem. We would’ve been able to end this war a decade ago if she’d had the stomach to do what needed to be done. No one else needed to die! Just the people who’d already been taken captive, and while that’s unfortunate, it’s sometimes the price of war.”

“But you didn’t keep trying to remove the queen.” Charis’s voice rang out in the silence. “You tried to kill me. I thought the first attempt was King Alaric reacting to our response to the Irridusk invasion, but it wasn’t. Just before I received news of the successful destruction of Montevallo’s central army outpost, you showed up in my office with Ambassador Shyrn and a proposal to accept help from Rullenvor and the Rakuuna.”

A murmur of shock spread throughout the crowd. Charis ignored them.

“You strongly advised me to put our kingdom in the debt of two others, one of which has been sinking our ships to try to force our compliance.”

“It was a good offer!” Lady Channing looked wildly from Charis to the crowd and back again. “I didn’t know the Rakuuna were behind the ships sinking. I was simply trying to end the war. I was doing what was best for Calera.”

“And when I said I didn’t want us in their debt, when I refused to accept their offer, you tried to have me killed.”

“Because you wouldn’t listen to reason! Just like your mother, always thinking the Willowthorns, with your absurd loyalty to the north above the interests of the rest of your subjects, know best. I could have ended the war immediately. Kept our ships from sinking. Shored up alliances with two powerful kingdoms. I could have been queen!”

Her voice rang out, echoing across the ballroom as Mother stepped past Charis.

“So that’s the price of your treachery. Rullenvor promised you the throne if only you’d subjugate us to them, and you ate it up.”

Lady Channing took another step back. “I knew what Calera needed, and you were too stubborn to do what was necessary. I had hopes for Charis, but she turned out to be just like you.”

“On your knees.” The queen’s voice filled the ballroom.

When Lady Channing hesitated, looking out at the crowd as though she expected them to rush to her rescue, Tal took two steps forward, smacked the flat of his sword against the back of her legs, and knocked her to her knees.

“You will never be queen.” Mother accepted a sword from her guard and raised it above Lady Channing. “You won’t even be a footnote in Caleran history. But don’t worry. By tomorrow morning, you won’t be alive to mourn the loss.”

The crowd drew in a collective gasp as the blade flashed through the air. Lady Channing cried out as the queen drove the sword into her chest, and then she crumpled. Blood poured from the wound, soaking the pale blue flowers Merryl had painstakingly stitched into the bodice of Lady Channing’s gown.

“Justice has been served.” The queen’s voice rang out. “The war is over, our ships will soon be protected, and the traitor in our midst has been vanquished. Let us celebrate!”

The crowd murmured as the orchestra conductor tapped his baton and then plunged his musicians headfirst into a cheerful tune that whirled through the ballroom, light and airy. Soon, couples were dancing, laughter was spilling out of the groups that gathered along the edges of the dance floor, and even those who couldn’t seem to stop staring at the body on the dais had a look of excitement rather than fear on their faces.

Charis turned toward Tal as the queen summoned a trio of guards to remove Lady Channing’s body from the Farragin house.

“It’s over.” Two simple little words, but the relief that unfurled within her threatened to bring her to her knees.

“You’re safe.” Tal sounded as relieved as she felt.

Charis glanced at the dance floor and then at the corridor that led to the library. It would be unseemly to take another break from the crowd so soon after her last break. Especially in light of Lady Channing’s death. She had a duty to the queen and to the Farragins to help lead the celebration on the dance floor. It would be unthinkable to shirk it, and yet . . . and yet all she wanted to do was return to the library and kiss Tal.

“Want to dance?” Tal asked quietly, his voice for her ears alone.

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