Page 83 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

“First, and most important, we have to pretend that nothing’s wrong around both the Everlys and the staff. We don’t know who we can trust.”

Holland made a noise in the back of his throat. “If you expect me to be nice to the Everlys, you’re in for some disappointment.”

“Just behave like you usually do. You’re never nice to them,” Tal said.

“Because clearly I’m an excellent judge of character.” Holland shook off the hands that held him and climbed to his feet.

Charis rose to hers as well and said softly, “We’re going to act like we trust them, but we aren’t going to tell them anything they don’t already know. I’m sure they’ve already sent a message to King Alaric telling him he can bring the jewels in exchange for marrying his heir to ours. At the wedding feast, I’m going to get the Everlys to expose their treachery, thus silencing the rumors about us, and I’m going to make Queen Bai’elsha swear allegiance to me instead of the Everlys so that she doesn’t kill us on their orders.”

“How?” Reuben asked as the door to their suite clicked open.

Charis smiled, cold and regal, as Ferris and Lord Everly walked into the sitting room. “By being the queen my mother raised me to be.”

Charis moved past Tal and swept into the sitting room, icy composure firmly in place. “Oh good, you’re both here. We were just discussing how to handle King Alaric’s alliance with the Rakuuna. I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

Behind her, Reuben and Tal filed into the room, taking up their posts on either side of her chair as if she was seated on a throne. Holland stalked past the Everlys, not even sparing them a glance, entered his room, and shut the door.

“What’s wrong with him?” Ferris asked.

Charis sighed. “You know Holland. He can’t stand being cooped up like this, and it’s made him grumpy.”

“Never mind Holland.” Lord Everly leaned forward, avarice in his eyes. “My son says you found Lady Ollen and Lord Thorsby. What plans have they made? How can we assist them from inside the palace?”

Charis matched his body language and lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. “To be honest, I expected better than what I found. The rebellion is nothing more than a handful of people, poorly organized, with no solutions to the current problems our people face, and no ideas worth implementing. One would think Lord Thorsby, at least, would have put some administrative infrastructure in place, given his years of experience running the royal council, but perhaps I’m being too hard on them. These are difficult times.”

“Surely they knew something of value that could help us.” Lord Everly exchanged a glance with Ferris. She had to give them something if she wanted her lie to appear credible.

“Indeed.” She sat back, spine straight, every inch a queen. “They’ve compiled a list of nobility who’ve apparently sworn loyalty to the Rakuuna instead of to the Willowthorns. Once we’ve managed to save our throne from King Alaric’s treachery, that list will come in quite handy as we fill our dungeons.”

“That’s it?” Ferris’s lip curled. “Months of sneak attacks and spreading rumors about how strong the spirit of resistance is within the Caleran people, and they’re just tattling on others for saving their own skin?”

Charis inclined her head as though to credit Ferris with this piece of wisdom. “I’d hoped for more organized support for our most pressing issues, but unfortunately, it looks like we can’t rely on them for help until we’ve already figured out how to save ourselves. Thankfully, I have one of Mother’s most trusted advisors at my side. Now, Lord Everly, you’ve had two months of experience dealing with both Alaric and the Rakuuna. What wisdom can you offer?”

As Lord Everly began speaking, filling the room with vague assertions and half-truths that continued to point the blame at King Alaric, Charis held herself perfectly still, her expression carved from glass, and hunted through his words for a weapon she could turn against him when the time was right.

Thirty

A WEEK PASSED, and then another. Charis had settled into a routine. Wake early and check to make sure Holland hadn’t changed his mind and snuck out of the palace at night. Force herself to eat a few bites of breakfast because, if she didn’t, Tal threatened to feed her himself. Remain stoic as the Rakuuna patrol searched her quarters and her person as they’d taken to doing the day after she’d returned from her clandestine visit to the bakery. Endure a visit from the Everlys and yet another interminable discussion about the upcoming wedding feast. Pick through their words and carefully guard her own. Watch Holland spar with Tal until he wore himself out and feel grateful that Tal was willing to give Holland an outlet for his fury. Feel grateful for the few afternoons that Dec and Grim were able to sneak out of their room to spar with Holland so that Tal could have a break. Pretend to enjoy dinner though she could barely stomach swallowing a bite. And then sit with Tal in the quiet of the night, trying to find and hold on to her equilibrium so she could do it all over again.

Tension coiled within her like a spring, tightening every time the door opened, every time she heard Ferris’s voice, and every time she had to stop Holland from exploding.

Her plan to expose the Everlys and force Queen Bai’elsha to swear allegiance to Charis instead was paper-thin. She couldn’t count on Lady Ollen and Lord Thorsby to somehow smuggle weapons into the feast when they’d had to flee the city. She couldn’t depend on Nalani to coordinate an attack with the retired admiral from Solvang. She couldn’t trust that any of her allies would honor her request to send three ships to Te’ash to threaten Queen Bai’elsha’s people. She had no leverage and no power.

Everything depended on being three steps ahead of her enemies, saying the right words at the right time, and bluffing a species of monsters capable of tearing her limb from limb in seconds.

If she failed at any point, all was lost.

The oatmeal she’d been trying to swallow tasted like dust in her suddenly dry mouth. Her heart pounded, a jarring rhythm that made her feel slightly sick. She reached for water to wash down her breakfast, but her hands shook, and she knocked the cup to the floor instead.

It shattered on impact, water spreading across the wooden floor, shards of glass gleaming in the morning light.

“I’ll get it,” Reuben said brusquely as she moved to pick up the pieces.

She forced the oatmeal down her throat and said, “I can clean up my own messes.”

“A queen doesn’t need to do that,” he replied as Tal and Holland came out of their respective rooms at the same time.

“What happened?” Tal asked, glancing from the shattered glass to Charis.

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