Page 9 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

THE TEA PARTY seemed to take forever. Charis’s head ached as she exchanged pleasantries, sipped spiced tea, and navigated her way through a slew of discreetly barbed questions.

Had she settled in Solvang, or would she be moving on soon?

Was she finding it difficult to plan for the future without the wisdom of her mother or her council at hand?

What had Calera done to attract the wrath of the Rakuuna in the first place?

By the time she’d worked her way through the thirty-some people in attendance, her smile felt sharp as a blade, and her tone was dipping dangerously close to the one Mother had used when she sentenced someone to the dungeons.

These people, in their velvets and silks, their plush carriages, and their comfortable homes free of monsters and bloodshed, couldn’t possibly understand how their words affected her. They looked at Charis and saw someone who brought danger in her wake. Every bit of information they tried to pry out of her was simply to protect themselves and their families. She’d have done the same if the roles were reversed.

That knowledge didn’t ease the pressure in her chest one bit.

She’d accepted Lady Estr’s invitation because the woman was related to Holland and Nalani, which meant she was distant family to Charis as well. And because her connections to the palace and Solvang’s nobility ran deep, which meant Charis could assess the Solvanish nobility’s sentiment toward her people. If this afternoon was any indication, they were unsettled enough that even a hint of the Rakuuna’s attention turning their way would send them running to Gareth and Vyllanthra to demand that the Calerans be forced out of their kingdom.

Charis was going to need to act quickly to assure the royals that her people posed no threat.

“I beg your pardon.” The man in the purple tea jacket nodded respectfully to Charis as he accidentally bumped into her on his way to the refreshment table, which was being restocked by a pair of servers in crisp black-and-gold uniforms.

“Of course.” Charis stretched her mouth into yet another smile and took a step back.

He paused and then turned to face her, his dark eyes intent on her face. “You won’t remember me, of course, but I visited Calera often in my younger years.”

She kept her smile in place and nodded. He was hardly the first in the room to tell her of a personal connection to Calera and its people.

“I study the stars, you see.”

“How lovely.” Her voice was polished marble, but at least her smile stayed intact.

“Yes, well.” He reached up to smooth his graying goatee. “I made it a habit to establish correspondence with like-minded individuals in other kingdoms, comparing their understanding of the night skies with my own.”

“An excellent habit.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, quite. I don’t know if you’re aware, but your father and I spent many years writing each other, until his health declined. And while we usually spoke of astronomy, we also mentioned our respective families. He was so proud of you and loved you deeply.”

Charis’s smile disappeared.

Tears shone in the man’s eyes, and his voice caught, thick with grief. “I’ve mourned his loss since I heard the news and wanted to simply say that I’m so sorry. He was the kindest, most sincere man I ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he is missed.”

The air in the room thinned until it was nothing but a wisp.

Charis opened her mouth to reply, but the words wouldn’t come. All she could see was Father, crumpled on his bedroom floor. Gone. Ripped away from her without even the chance to say goodbye.

“I apologize if my words distress you.” The man reached out as if to touch her arm, and Charis stumbled back.

The chasm of grief within bled darkness into her veins, heavy as stone, and she shook her head, though it was too late. He’d already torn away the thin wall she’d built to contain a loss she couldn’t truly face.

Not if she wanted to be strong enough to save her people.

“Your Majesty.” Lady Estr spoke from behind Charis.

Turning away from the man, Charis reached desperately for a shield of icy calm to cover the wreckage left in the wake of her memories. The room swayed slightly, and the pain in her head doubled as she faced Lady Estr and summoned every bit of willpower she possessed.

“Yes, Lady Estr?” Her voice was a husk of itself, but at least it didn’t tremble.

Lady Estr frowned. “You look unwell. Perhaps you should visit the bath chamber. Nothing ruins a queen’s formidable reputation like vomiting on a hostess’s expensive rug.”

“I’m fine.” The lie left her lips, bold as a sword and just as sharp.

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