Page 63 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

The female Rakuuna strode forward, clawed hands extended, fury on her face. Hastily, Charis said, “I’ll go peacefully. Stand down.”

“Charis—”

“I mean it, Holland.” She skewered him with a look designed to shut him up, for all the good that ever did. “Stay alive.”

“You stay alive,” he muttered, his bedpost still raised threateningly.

“No more time.” The male Rakuuna leaped forward, slammed into Holland, and sent him spinning into Tal. Both of them hit the wall beside Charis’s bedroom door. “It comes with us.”

“I am coming.” Charis’s voice shook. “Leave them alone.”

There was a commotion at the suite doorway, and then Dec and Grim raced into the room, headed for Tal. The male Rakuuna turned to face them as Tal yelled at them to stop before they got themselves killed.

Look who was dishing out the same order he’d failed to obey when it came from Charis.

“Bring them all.” Another Rakuuna entered the suite, her gray-white hair flowing down her back, her skin so translucent, the threads of blood beneath its surface resembled thin, black snakes.

“Go peacefully,” Charis said before Holland could finish climbing to his feet. He gave her a mutinous look, but then Tal clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the corridor, speaking quietly in his ear.

Moments later, Charis, flanked by Reuben and Holland, left the southern wing and headed toward the center of the palace, following the first guard who’d entered the room. Tal, with Dec and Grim on either side, was on her heels, and the male guard took up the rear.

They passed guards at every turn. Charis’s skin crawled at the way their black eyes watched her while they spoke to each other in their language. Desperately, she reached for strategy.

What could she say to convince the queen to keep her alive?

What could she say to bargain for the lives of her people?

And what leverage could she use if all of that failed?

It didn’t matter that she’d spent most of the night wrestling with those questions—she still didn’t have answers that felt like a solid plan. Her chest pinched, making it harder to breathe.

Before she was ready for the confrontation, they were at the door that led to Mother’s sitting room. There was no more time to strategize. There was only the painful thud of her heart, the smell of Mother’s favorite dried herbs sitting in a dish on the table, and the sight of a tall, lithe Rakuuna with silver-blue scales in delicate patterns on her white skin, long white braids woven with blue beads, and a dull green crown of what looked like moss-covered metal on her head.

She was sitting in Mother’s favorite chair.

The queen glared at Charis, and her thin lips peeled back into a snarl. A pair of guards stood on either side of her. The pinching in Charis’s chest exploded into fury.

This was Mother’s room.

Mother’s chair.

Mother’s kingdom.

And if not for the creature in the mossy crown, Mother would still be alive to rule it.

The female guard said, “I present Charis Willowthorn, Queen Bai’elsha.”

“Renegade princess.” Bai’elsha’s words trailed off into a snakelike hiss. Her Caleran was accented but much clearer than her guards’ or that of those on the ship.

Charis moved fully into the room, chin held high, thoughts sharp as knives as the guards herded her people against a side wall.

“Renegade queen.” Charis strode forward, ignoring the way the Rakuuna’s guards tensed in response. “And you are sitting in my chair.”

There was a collective gasp from the side of the room, but Charis ignored it. There was nothing but Bai’elsha and the verbal duel Charis couldn’t afford to lose.

“I earned this.” The Rakuuna queen swept her taloned hands out to encompass the room.

“You stole it.” Charis’s voice shook with the heat of her anger.

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