Page 13 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

“Maybe so, but—oh, don’t give me that look.” Nalani’s chin rose in a way that suddenly reminded Charis very much of herself. “You’re wearing yourself out trying to find a way to stop the Rakuuna. You can’t do everything, be everywhere, and speak to everyone at once. And the last Caleran ambassador to Solvang had returned home for the Sister Moons Festival. Who knows if he even survived the invasion? Either way, he isn’t here, and we need a representative from the crown. Give me the job, and let me take care of this for you.”

“You want to be my ambassador to Solvang?” Charis studied her cousin as if just now seeing her. The determined glint in her eye that signaled a battle for any who argued with her. The firm set of her jaw that belied the softness of her features and lulled people into believing she’d be easier to manipulate than her obstinate brother.

She could trust Nalani’s loyalty and discernment. Even better, she could trust that Nalani understood exactly which situations Charis would prefer to handle herself. It was a good solution to a problem Charis had been too busy to even notice.

“I’m perfect for the job.” Nalani raised her hand to tick items off on her fingers. “I’m related to nobility here, which establishes trust. I understand both Caleran and Solvanish culture. I know you, which means I know when I can confidently speak for you and when I need to bring something to your attention first. I’m diplomatic when I have to be and firm when it’s needed. I realize you don’t have many options at the moment, but even if you did, I’d still be the best person for the ambassadorship.”

“I agree.”

“And furthermore, I have connections to—oh. You agree?” Nalani leaned closer as though examining Charis’s expression.

“I do. And I’m glad you brought this to my attention. I’ll draw up a certificate—”

Nalani whipped a small roll of parchment from her dress pocket. “I already did. It just needs your signature.”

“I pity the person who tries to derail you when you’ve made up your mind.” Charis looked over the certificate and then grabbed a quill from the desk and scrawled her signature across the bottom.

“I’m heading to the docks with Reuben today to see if I can find any information on the Rakuuna.” She tied the gray cloak at her throat and reached for a pair of buttery soft black leather gloves. “As you are now my ambassador, I’ll expect daily reports on your conversations and actions. I don’t want any surprises.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Nalani took the parchment, curtsied, flashed a smile at Charis, and left.

Charis quickly joined Reuben in the hallway and headed toward the carriage house, where a small buggy was waiting as requested.

“I don’t like being the only guard, Your Majesty. You need more protection,” Reuben grumbled as they settled into the buggy.

“I won’t need that level of protection if I take care not to look like a queen. I need answers, not pomp and circumstance.”

Tendrils of fog once again threaded the landscape like fraying ribbons. The bay was so shrouded in mist, it was impossible to see past its mouth and out into open waters. A lighthouse glowed at the edge of the bay, but even still, Charis wondered if ships ever collided simply because they couldn’t see each other in time.

The buggy dropped them off half a block from the dock. Even though there was no royal shield on the vehicle’s side, Charis didn’t want the spectacle of arriving in what was clearly an expensive carriage.

The dock was busy. Two large vessels were being unloaded, with a stream of sailors carrying crates down ramps and over to merchant wagons. Other ships were being loaded, cleaned, or repaired. The hum of voices was punctuated by the slap of boots against the dock.

She’d sent a message to Orayn, and he was standing on the dock, a little way down from their ship, haggling with a merchant over what looked like a selection of spare tarps.

When she reached him, Orayn sent the merchant on his way, but not before the man gave Charis a long, bold stare. She ignored the instinct to burrow further into her hood.

“The ship at the far end just arrived from Verace. That’s nearly as far north as you can get without going into the northern seas where Te’ash is located.” Orayn gestured toward a sleek green ship with sailors hauling crates down its ramp.

“Let’s go.” Charis began weaving her way around sailors, merchants, and dockhands alike, with Orayn on her left and Reuben on her right. As they passed her ship, she caught a glimpse of Dec and Grim disembarking and ignored them.

The green ship had the name Ell-roth-mi painted on the side in delicate gold script. She could speak Veracian, though not as well as Solvanish. Still, she was grateful for Tutor Brannigan’s endless hours of drilling her in the languages of the other sea kingdoms.

“Greetings,” she said to a woman with sun-kissed brown skin and a constellation of scars along her cheekbones. The woman wore a green jacket with several patches embroidered on the sleeves, which Charis assumed meant she was either the captain or the first mate.

The woman barely glanced at her. “We’re selling fish at the market. Not here. Ahn-li, if you drop that crate, it’s coming out of your pay!” She glared at one of the sailors, whose feet slid on the damp wood of the ramp before finding purchase again.

“I’ll get straight to the point so that I don’t waste your time,” Charis said crisply. “We aren’t here to buy fish. I’m looking for information about the kingdom of Te’ash and the Rakuuna who live there.”

The woman’s pale gray eyes found Charis’s for an instant, and then she made a strange gesture with her hand, as though wiping something across her collarbone and then flinging it to the ground. “Cursed species. We have nothing to do with them.”

Charis spoke quickly before the woman could turn away. “They’re invading other sea kingdoms. Colonizing. I’m trying to find a way to stop them, but there’s no information here in Solvang about how to kill them. Verace is much farther north. I’d hoped—”

“As I said, we have nothing to do with them. You’d do better finding someone from Embre. Much closer to Te’ash.” She looked back at her ship and swore. “Mer-la, help him, please! I swear he couldn’t find his own face in a mirror.”

Charis pivoted and stared at the plethora of ships tied to the dock. “Any ships here from Embre?”

Orayn shook his head. “Not likely. They keep to themselves. Maybe those sailors who just returned from a merchant run to Thallis might—”

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