Page 7 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

There’d been precious little to smile about since the night of the invasion, and forcing a kind expression onto her face right now felt as natural as breathing water, but she couldn’t aim her fury and despair at the Solvanish people.

As the carriage lurched into motion, Holland said, “If you keep tensing your jaw like that, you’ll break your teeth.”

She glared, and he shrugged. “Fine. Break your teeth. Good thing you like soup.”

Shaking her head, she turned to look out the window as a patch of fog thinned enough to reveal elegant shops with neatly manicured flower boxes and tall, narrow doors. Her lungs ached with every breath.

How was she supposed to save her people and avenge her kingdom if she couldn’t kill the invaders who’d taken her throne? She was trapped here, living off the generosity of the Solvanish royals, making promises she’d never be able to keep. A queen who didn’t deserve her crown.

Her heart thudded frantically against her chest, and her head spun as the air in her lungs seemed to disappear.

She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t hold her people together, negotiate with allies, rescue Tal so she could leverage him against Alaric and take back her kingdom by force all while pretending she wasn’t collapsing from the inside out.

A line of pine trees outside the window wavered as Charis’s vision blurred. Clenching her fists in her skirt, she forced herself to breathe.

If Tal had been there, he’d have knelt at her feet, gathered her fists in his callused fingers, and ordered her to do something like count to ten or answer some silly question that distracted her long enough to let her body settle a bit.

Of course, if Tal had been there, she’d have been honor bound to run him through with a sword for being a traitor. The grief in her heart swelled, spilling heaviness into her veins until it felt as though she was made of stone.

Curse Tal for a thousand generations. The thought of giving him the death he deserved shouldn’t hurt.

Her vision cleared as the carriage climbed a steep hill, the view outside her window swallowed whole by a thick blanket of white. Apparently, even just the memory of Tal interrupting her panic was enough to give her the brief distraction she needed to begin mastering her fear.

She cursed him again for good measure, even as her thoughts slowed and the deadly chess match she waged with her enemies once again came into focus.

There was a solution. There was always a solution. If she couldn’t find it, that simply meant she wasn’t looking in the right direction. She needed to step back and see the entire game board before she made her next move.

She could do this. Somehow. She had to.

“I meant what I said about relaxing your jaw,” Holland said as the carriage turned a corner and slowed. “And maybe fix your face. You look like you want to kill the next person you see.”

She blinked, reining in her thoughts as she turned to her cousin. Their eyes met, and a frown furrowed his brow.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” Holland cocked his head to study her.

Charis lifted her chin.

“I’m right.” He shifted in his seat as the vehicle came to a stop. Reuben grabbed the hilt of his sword and faced the door, his expression unreadable, though Charis knew he was listening carefully to every word.

If ever there was a time for Holland to not speak every thought he had, this was it. Not that Charis didn’t trust Reuben. She could grudgingly admit that while she often loathed his methods and would never forgive him for killing her handmaiden Milla on Mother’s orders, he’d proven himself absolutely loyal to Charis since the moment she became Calera’s ruler.

Still, a queen must not show weakness. The moment she behaved like prey instead of the predator she’d been raised to be, someone would be waiting to bring her down. Everyone either wanted to take her power or use it for themselves. Mother had repeatedly told her that, but it was Tal’s betrayal that had truly carved the lesson into her heart.

“I am many things, but scared isn’t one of them.” Charis’s voice was steely.

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Well, since you’re the queen, I’m not supposed to argue. However—”

“Be careful how you finish that sentence.” Charis met his eyes, sighing inwardly at the lazy way he arched one eyebrow as though not at all deterred by her threats. “What I really need from you right now is help navigating Solvanish polite society.”

“And you think I’m the right person for that?”

“Nalani is busy, which makes you the only person in this carriage whose family are Solvanish nobility, so yes, I’m counting on you to help me through this.”

“The last thing I want to do is eat tiny morsels of fancy food and pretend to listen to people I don’t care about. I’m not even getting out of the carriage,” he said with absolute conviction.

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