Page 15 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

Charis toyed with the idea of skipping the dinner entirely, but one glance at the note changed her mind.

As Nalani entered the room, dressed in a brushed wool gown of cream and gold, Charis slid the note into the drawer of her bedside table and said, “Nita, I’ll need a bath prepared upon my return, and my evening dress should be pressed and ready. You are dismissed until then.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Nita bowed and left the room.

The instant the door shut, Nalani said, “Are you sure you can manage this trip and attend a dinner with the queen? Perhaps we should do the trip tomorrow instead.”

“We need information immediately. I’m not willing to wait.” Charis shook out her skirts and reached for her cloak.

“Then send your regrets and skip the dinner.” Nalani hurried forward to pull a stray thread from the cloak’s hem. “It’s too much to fit into one day. Especially when you aren’t sleeping, and”—she glanced at Charis’s half-eaten breakfast—“well, at least you ate something. I’ll give you that.”

“I’m glad it meets with your approval.” Charis gave her a small smile and then headed toward the door. “I have to be at the dinner. Vyllanthra made it clear she expects my attendance. Public sentiment has turned against me now that knowledge of the Rakuuna bounty on my head has spread.”

“Great-Aunt Estr thinks you’re being invited to dinner so the queen can question you and make up her mind about whether to continue supporting Solvang’s alliance with what’s left of Calera.”

“Lady Estr is right.” Charis paused at the door. “If Vyllanthra decides we’re more risk than potential reward, I will have no choice but to leave Solvang.”

“All the more reason to get answers from Dursley if there are any answers to be had.” Nalani’s voice firmed.

“Exactly.” Charis opened the door and swept into the hall. Reuben took up his position at her right, Nalani on her left. Four Solvanish guards joined her, and the group moved quickly through the east wing and out into the misty morning air, where a large carriage pulled by four black horses awaited. Holland, along with Dec and Grim, was standing beside it.

She’d decided to include Dec and Grim in the day’s outing because their actions yesterday spoke of loyalty to her. Not because she meant anything to them personally, but because they knew she was the best chance Tal had of being rescued. Alaric could hardly give in to the Rakuuna’s demands if it meant jeopardizing his own kingdom’s safety, even for the life of his youngest son. Charis had made it quite clear in the palloren she’d sent that she intended to take that burden off his shoulders.

She’d also included Dec and Grim because if the people of Dursley were outcasts in Solvanish society, they were far more likely to feel comfortable around those who didn’t appear to be nobility.

Now she just had to endure hours in the company of the spies who’d helped Tal betray her. She’d endured far worse.

Holland, Dec, and Grim bowed and murmured, “Your Majesty” as she passed them and climbed inside the carriage, Reuben on her heels. Holland and Nalani sat on either side of her. Dec and Grim joined Reuben on the opposite bench.

As the vehicle began moving through the city streets, Holland scrutinized her face. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No.”

“Well, you look like that time you had a stomach virus. You’re all pale and thin, and your eyes look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“I’m fine.” The lie fell from her lips with practiced ease.

“You keep using that word.” Holland raised a brow in her direction. “I don’t think it means what you think it means.”

Charis ignored him and turned to look out the window at the pristine buildings with their elegant window boxes full of the lush chordellia flowers that bloomed here in winter. Her breath puffed from her lips in a swirl of white condensation as she burrowed deeper into her wrap. The kingdoms north of Solvang were already experiencing snow and ice, and it wouldn’t be long before the seas became difficult to navigate.

She intended to be long gone from Solvang before it was unsafe to sail past the northern kingdom of Embre. The worry that Tal was already dead—thus prompting the Rakuuna to place a bounty on Charis’s head for leverage against Alaric—was one she steadfastly refused to consider. He was alive. He had to be. If the idea of his death caused panic within her, it was only because she’d decided he was the tool she would use to gain his father’s cooperation.

The fog thinned beneath the midday sun as the carriage rumbled through fields with scattered stone cottages and rocky outcroppings full of goat herds that leaped nimbly from one craggy peak to another. The rattle of the carriage wheels and the rhythmic sway of its chassis beckoned Charis to close her eyes, but she pinched herself every time she felt her eyelids growing heavy.

That last time she’d accidentally fallen asleep in a carriage, she’d awakened with her head on Tal’s shoulder, his arm braced across her waist to anchor her safely to the seat.

The memory stung, and she drew her spine straight as she glared across at Dec and Grim. She had no plans to ever speak to Tal again, even after she rescued him, which made getting answers to the questions that kept her up at night difficult, to say the least. But here were Tal’s co-conspirators, worried she might change her mind and leave their prince to his fate. She had at least an hour left in the journey to Dursley. Might as well make the most of it.

Before she could think better of it, she said casually, “Your prince must have been quite pleased to be assigned as my bodyguard.”

Beside her, Nalani stiffened, and Charis could practically feel her worry. Holland, on the other hand, stretched his legs out like a cat and let his hand come to rest on the hilt of his sword.

Grim shot an anxious look at Dec, who held himself as still and watchful as always, his dark eyes finding Charis’s. When it became clear she was waiting for a response, Dec said quietly, “Nothing about being sent to Calera as a spy pleased Prince Tal.”

Holland snorted.

“Well, he certainly had an aptitude for it.” Charis settled back against her seat and smiled at Grim in a way that had beads of sweat suddenly dotting his forehead. She raised a hand to tick items off on her fingers. “Perfect Caleran accent—quite impressive, really. Friendliness that disarmed others. A familiarity with northern Calera that gained the trust of my father.”

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