Page 10 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

“If you say so.” Lady Estr held a parchment letter in her hand, its purple seal already broken. Charis recognized the crest of Lord Jamison Thorsby, the head of Mother’s royal council. “This was just delivered for you from the royal palloren hub.”

Clearly those who ran the hub had either opened and read the message themselves or had brought it to Gareth and Vyllanthra before sending it on to Charis. She could only hope Lord Thorsby hadn’t written anything that could jeopardize Charis’s standing here.

“Thank you.”

Charis couldn’t bear to spend another moment pretending in this room full of strangers, and the message from Thorsby was the excuse she needed. “Lady Estr, I thank you for your gracious hospitality. Holland and I must take our leave now. I look forward to seeing you again soon.”

“Last time I saw my great-nephew, he was hiding in the kitchen.” Lady Estr snapped her fingers at a parlor maid. “Fetch Lord Holland. Have him meet his queen at her carriage.”

The man in the purple coat opened his mouth as if to say something, but Charis was already moving toward the door, trusting Reuben to keep up.

She had no diplomacy left within her. No soft replies or smiles. No dexterity to answer questions without giving away anything of value.

All that was left was grief and rage and the terrible certainty that the Rakuuna queen setting a bounty on Charis’s head meant something important had changed.

As Charis made her way back into the fog-drenched afternoon, her mind raced through scenarios, each one grimmer than the last.

Perhaps the Rakuuna had learned of the treaty between Calera and Montevallo and thought to use Charis as a bargaining chip, along with Tal.

Perhaps the Rakuuna regretted the deal they’d made with Tal allowing Charis to go free.

Or perhaps they needed Charis because Tal was dead.

Her knees weakened, and she sagged against the porch railing as a sickening wave of dread slammed into her. A hand wrapped around her upper arm and steadied her. She turned to find Reuben looking at her with the same implacable expectation she’d always seen in Mother’s face.

Be stronger.

Strike harder.

Never falter, never waver, never break.

Not even if the boy who’d broken her heart was dead.

“What happened?” Holland rushed onto the porch, wiping crumbs from his chin.

“The porch is a bit slippery from the fog,” Reuben said, his eyes darting toward the members of Lady Estr’s staff who stood nearby, manning the entrance.

“Seems fine to me,” Holland mumbled as he took the stairs quickly. “Let’s go before Great-Aunt Estr finds someone else who simply must have a conversation with me.”

Charis pulled her arm free of Reuben’s grip and walked to the carriage with the same purposeful stride she’d once used to enter the throne room. When she was settled inside with Holland and Reuben, she instructed the coachmistress to take them to the refugee apartments where they would pick up Nalani and Delaire, and where Charis would face the unenviable task of informing her people that they could no longer send messages to family in Calera.

Not until Charis was long gone from Solvang.

She’d have to alter her plans. Rush any remaining repairs and upgrades to the ship. Secure letters of protection from Gareth and Vyllanthra to prove they were allies in case Charis needed help from another kingdom along the way. And head to Te’ash before the Rakuuna came looking for her here.

But how could she do that if she still didn’t know how to kill them?

And what would she do if she arrived in Te’ash only to learn that the monsters had killed Tal?

Panic closed a fist around her throat, and she swallowed hard as the thudding of her heart matched the pounding in her head. She told herself it was simply because Tal’s death would leave her without leverage against Alaric. It had nothing to do with never seeing Tal’s warm brown eyes or crooked smile again.

“What’s that?” Holland’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. She followed his gaze to the parchment she still clutched in her hand.

As the carriage turned left and began winding down a steep hill, she smoothed the parchment open, her heart giving a twinge at the sight of Lord Thorsby’s elegant scrawl. Focusing on his words was better than spinning useless scenarios in her head. The panic eased a bit, and she drew a steadying breath.

“It’s a note from Lord Thorsby.” She peered closer and realized that Gareth and Vyllanthra had opened the message because it was addressed to them. Thorsby, along with the rest of Calera, didn’t know Charis was in Solvang.

Which meant the Rakuuna didn’t know, either.

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