Page 60 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

“You don’t have to—that’s very . . . It’s not good strategy to prioritize me.” She looked back at Tal and found him leaning close in a way that used to make something warm and tender bloom within her. Now it made her heart beat a little faster.

“Not good strategy?” Holland’s voice rose. “Well then, that takes care of it. How foolish of us to care about you when, strategically, we ought to turn our loyalty to someone else.”

“You should!” She turned to him, grateful to avoid Tal’s gaze, which had gone from furious to wounded. “I will either survive my encounter with the Rakuuna queen, or I won’t. Nothing you do now will change that. The fate of Calera is what truly matters, and that deserves all your focus.”

“No.” Holland sounded mutinous.

“We can care about both.” Tal’s voice was gentle as he took her cold, shaking hands in his and squeezed gently. When she whipped around to face him, he held her gaze, waiting, clearly ready to let go of her if that’s what she wanted.

It should be what she wanted. He’d broken her heart and betrayed her trust. Leaning on him for comfort before facing her enemy was exactly the sort of weakness Mother had tried so hard to stamp out of her daughter. She stiffened and reached for the cold rage that she’d always associated with Mother.

This time there was nothing but the growing ache within and the memory of Father’s blue eyes lighting up when he talked to Tal.

Father had trusted Tal. More than that, he’d loved him. And while Father hadn’t been half the political strategist Mother was, he’d been an excellent judge of what mattered most to him: people’s hearts.

He’d thought Tal had a good heart.

And if Charis was honest, so did she. Despite the pain, the betrayal, and the loss of trust, she believed Tal when he said he hadn’t shared personal details with his father. She believed him when he said he’d shown her who he truly was, even if he’d lied about his name.

It didn’t heal the wound he’d dealt her, but it did stem the bleeding. And right now, about to face the enemy queen with nothing but her wits to keep herself alive, Charis couldn’t force herself to refuse the comfort of those who cared about her fate.

When she didn’t pull away, Tal’s grip firmed. As the carriage drove into the palace’s inner courtyard and turned onto the semicircle drive that would take them to the entrance, he said with quiet intensity, “I’ve watched you manipulate a room full of contentious nobles into doing exactly what you want while believing it’s their own idea. I’ve seen you turn grown men into quivering fools. And I witnessed you terrify an assassin into telling you the truth with nothing but the threat of what you might do when you left her cell. The Rakuuna have a physical advantage here, but no one can outthink you.”

“He’s right.” Holland bumped his shoulder against hers as the carriage slowed. “You’re as smart as your mother, and you can be just as scary when you want to be.”

Charis swallowed against the sudden dryness in her mouth. “They’re monsters.”

“They’re political opponents who want something. Figure out how to use that against them, and you’ll have the leverage you need.” Tal leaned closer, until his breath fanned the chilled skin of her hands. “Nobody uses leverage better than you, Charis.”

Her thoughts felt as slippery as vapor as the carriage creaked to a stop. She didn’t know how to convince the Rakuuna queen of anything. Nothing about their invasion made sense. Destroying Calera just to put pressure on Alaric in Montevallo wasn’t a viable strategy, no matter how often Charis examined it.

The air in her lungs thinned, and lights danced at the edge of her vision.

She had no leverage. No trick up her sleeve she could pull when the timing was right. She had nothing but the hope that she could deflect attention away from Holland and the rest of her crew and somehow talk her way out of an execution.

“You’re going to be all right.” Tal’s voice was fierce as he let go of her hands and hauled her against his chest instead. He pressed his cheek to the crown of her head. “Remember who you are. Be everything your mother trained you to be.”

A loud, haunting cry rose from the courtyard as one of the Rakuuna who’d escorted the carriage announced their arrival. Charis dragged in a thin, shaky breath and leaned against the solid warmth of Tal’s chest.

She could despise herself for this weakness later—if she was still alive.

“You know how to make yourself invaluable to the Rakuuna.” Tal pulled back slowly as their coachman dismounted from his perch. “If nothing else, they should keep you alive just so that my father will pay the ransom to ensure there’s still a marriage treaty that allows Vahn to sit on Calera’s throne.”

“Calera only has one throne.” The words were a reflex. Muscle memory from years of Mother’s rigid expectations. Yet as soon as they left her lips, a flicker of rage kindled to life in the corner of her heart again.

“And whose throne is it?” Tal’s eyes burned into hers, his expression fierce.

Her spine straightened. Her chin lifted. The rage within burned brighter, and somehow that made it easier to breathe.

“Whose throne is it?” Tal repeated.

She imagined a crown on her head as she stood over the bodies of her enemies. “Mine.”

The door was wrenched open, and a long, scaly arm reached into the carriage, wrapped around Charis’s hand, and yanked her forward. Tal yelled, and Holland lunged for the doorway as though planning to fight the creature, but the Rakuuna was faster and stronger. She pulled Charis into the courtyard and began dragging her up the steps to the palace.

“I can walk.” Charis drew herself upright with the dignity befitting Calera’s queen.

The Rakuuna chattered at her in their language, and Charis laughed with every ounce of viciousness she possessed. When the creature paused at the top of the steps to stare at Charis, black eyes unblinking, Charis reached out and deliberately peeled the monster’s fingers away from her hand, one talon at a time.

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