Page 59 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

“Good to know those monsters are still afraid of horses,” Grim said from his place beside Tal. His freckled forehead seemed permanently wrinkled in a frown as he peered out the carriage window. “Can’t even drive the carriages.”

Charis glanced out the window and shuddered at the sight of a trio of tall Rakuuna guards walking a short distance away from the vehicle, clearly keeping pace with the cargo inside while still remaining safely away from the horses. Their too-long limbs moved in graceful tandem. Every few steps, their black eyes would flick toward the carriage, as though making sure the humans inside hadn’t tried to escape.

Beyond the creatures, the hazy outline of Arborlay’s buildings was a dark smudge through the curtain of rain. Charis leaned closer and drank in the sight, somehow feeling more homesick now that she was back in her kingdom than she had at sea.

There, just past the line of warehouses that hugged the dock, were the elegant lines of the merchant sector, their shops closed now due to the weather. Thesserin trees bent before the wind, their slender branches stripped of their golden leaves. And in the distance, just visible in the shifting light of the storm, the narrow steeple of the seers’ temple pierced the iron-gray sky.

“Maybe we can make a run for the palace stables.” Holland leaned forward as if he planned to leap into action. “I’ll tell the coachman to keep going—”

“If the simple act of riding horses was enough to overthrow our enemies, don’t you think the people here would’ve already done it?” Tal’s voice was sharp. Charis tore her gaze from the window. His hands were clenched into fists.

He was scared.

“I don’t see you coming up with any brilliant ideas, impostor.” Holland swept his hair out of his face, a quick, impatient movement that usually meant his mood was balanced precariously on a knife’s edge.

He was scared, too.

She couldn’t blame them. The thought of facing the Rakuuna queen made her feel as though snakes were squirming in the pit of her stomach. There was nothing Charis could do about her own situation beyond hoping she could somehow convince the queen she was more useful to her alive than publicly executed to put an end to the rebellion. However, Tal should have nothing to worry about, and if Charis could convince Holland to lie for once in his life, he could be safe, too.

Abandoning the temptation to stare at her rain-soaked city, she reached for the icy control that usually had people rushing to do what she asked. “All of you need to take a deep breath and stop looking like you’re about to face your own beheading. We can’t go into the palace like whipped dogs afraid of our fates. I’m the one the queen needs to kill. If you each do exactly as I say, you’ll be safe.” She hoped.

Three pairs of eyes swiveled to meet hers. Grim seemed confused. Holland was clearly offended. And Tal looked furious.

Charis ignored their expressions. “Grim, once you leave the carriage, speak nothing but Montevallian and stick close to Tal. Have Dec do the same. It will be clear that you’re his guards, and that you aren’t Caleran.”

Before he could reply, she turned to Holland. “You can either use your Solvanish family’s last name and pretend to be an envoy from Solvang sent to supervise my trip to the northern kingdoms—”

“You want me to act like a diplomat?” His lips curled into a sneer.

“Or you can speak your best Montevallian and pretend to be one of Tal’s guards. Either way, as long as the Rakuuna queen doesn’t realize you’re my heir, you’ll be safe. If the captain who took us tells her I said my entire crew was related to me, I’ll tell her he didn’t understand enough Caleran to translate my words properly.”

He opened his mouth as if to argue, but she was already turning toward Tal. “And you have nothing to worry about.”

“Really?” His tone matched his furious expression.

“If the Rakuuna wanted you dead, you’d be dead already. It doesn’t serve the queen to kill you when doing so would jeopardize her ability to get your father to give her the serpanicite she wants. You’ll be safe.”

“Safe.” He threw the word at her.

“Yes. Safe.” She turned back to the window. If this was her last trip through Arborlay, she didn’t want to miss a single chimney, window box, or cobblestone.

“Do you want to explain reality to her, or should I?” Tal asked.

“You can have that pleasure.” Holland sounded like he had the night his mother had insisted he dance with at least seven girls before slinking off to the palace armory to admire the Willowthorns’ cache of weapons. “But I want it noted that being aligned with you is highly uncomfortable for me, and I’d appreciate it if we could go back to being sworn enemies at our earliest convenience.”

“Of course,” Tal said.

Charis ignored them. The road curved gently before beginning its steady ascent to the distant palace. She didn’t have much time left. Either she was going to talk her way out of this, or she was going to die. She’d thought there would be a small measure of peace at the thought of silencing the ruin within her and leaving this mess for others to clean up. But there was nothing but the frantic thudding of her heart and a desperate desire to stay alive, even though it hurt.

The carriage creaked as someone opposite her adjusted themselves—she didn’t look to see if it was Grim or Tal. As the carriage rounded another bend in the road, the white stone palace with its narrow turrets and tall windows came into view.

Charis’s hands began to shake.

Something creaked again, and then Tal was on his knees in front of her, his brown eyes finding hers and holding.

She frowned and drew back, but he didn’t reach for her. Instead he said with quiet intensity, “We aren’t worried about our own safety, Charis. We’re scared of losing you.”

Her throat tightened, and she glanced sideways to find Holland glaring at her. He made another impatient gesture and said, “Obviously.”

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