Page 151 of An Archer's Redemption

Keelan stared, then swallowed. “Thanks, Dec. I love you, too.”

Before we could devolve into a pair of mushy, ugly crying men, three sharp raps sounded as the door swung open. High Chancellor Ethan Marks stepped in, wearing his gods-awful black trousers, black tunic, and black cloak lined with the fur of some unfortunate beast. He looked like a Ranger who’d gone into mourning.

Marks bowed toward Keelan. “It is time, Your Majesty.”

Keelan’s brows bunched. “Ethan, why—”

“You will be King. Perhaps King-Consort, though I suspect Jessia will simply name you King. She had not made up her mind when I spoke with her earlier today. Either way, you will need to get used to the bowing.” Marks nodded in my direction. “Are we ready, Prince Declan?”

“Well, shit,” Keelan said, running a hand over his stubbly head. “I was. I really hadn’t thought about what marrying Jess might make me . . . andhim.”

Marks gaped. “You had not thought of becoming King? Seriously? You are a seasoned, decorated investigator, are you not?”

“In a country without a throne or a Queen, sure,” Keelan said defensively, as color snuck up from his collar.

I turned to Marks with a mischievous grin. “Good thing there’s no real power with his new title. He’s not the sharpest axe, if you know what I mean.”

Marks snorted.

I smirked.

Keelan scowled.

“Let’s go before you soil your soon-to-be-royal breeches.” I gave Keelan one last check before stepping aside and motioning for him to follow Marks.

Marks escorted us through the hallways that led to the Throne Room’s side entrance, the one Jess used to move to and from the residence wing of the Palace. A page waited near that door to guide me to another door on the opposite side.

Nobles and guests of every station packed the massive hall, each wearing a small nation’s worth of gold and precious jewels. The tiaras and circlets alone could have fed and clothed half the people of the Kingdom for years. Vines covered in white flowers encircled each column from base to as high as I could see, and globes of light cast cerulean auras, bathing the great hall in magical brilliance.

I didn’t know many in attendance, but a few familiar heads nodded in greeting. The page led me to stand on a spot at the base of the first step that led to the thrones, the position of highest honor for the family of the groom. An empty place stood between Marks and me, a spot Keelan insisted remain open in honor of our adopted father.

It pained me to lie to everyone, concocting a tale of gallantry and sacrifice in which Atikus gave his life to save mine in thebattle against Irina. None could know of his new role or home. I knew the old Mage would allow me to tell Keelan soon, possibly bring him to Rea Utu for a visit, but not this day.

And so, his space remained empty, his memory an ache in an otherwise joyous day.

I gazed up at the seats of power not ten paces away, massive gilded and bejeweled chairs from which rulers guided a nation and influenced the world.

My brother would sit on one of those in mere moments.

He would be the right hand of the Queen.

Spirits save us all.

The page bellowed from the open doorway, heralding the entrance of some duke or duchess. I missed the announcement. My gaze slipped from the thrones to the rows of guests standing uncomfortably on the opposite side of the hall. The new arrival, decked out in crimson, forest green, and gold, took her place among her peers.

I scanned the crowd.

About halfway down the row began the foreign dignitaries. Representatives of the Isle of Vint wore grass skirts and strange shirts made of shells. Melucia’s small eastern neighbors were each represented by one or two finely dressed men or women. Rea Utu stood tall with a giant, reed-thin man I recognized as the innkeeper in the village. He had been selected to take Larinda’s place as the leader of their people. I found that a fine choice.

I was about to turn back to my study of the thrones’ carvings as the page’s clear voice again rang out, “The Right Honorable Lord Ronan Byrne, Ambassador to Her Majesty, the Queen, from the Empire of Melucia, and his retinue.”

RonanByrne? Ambassador?

Everything had moved so quickly over the past months, and Atikus’s situation had been so dire, that I hadn’t kept upwith politics back home. I’d never paid much attention to the machinations of the ruling class, at least not beyond those who governed the workings of the Ranger corps. The new Triad had appointed a new ambassador. That wasn’t surprising.Whothey appointed was.

I craned my neck, looking around members of the Privy Council, to watch as a middle-aged man with more silver than black poking out beneath his velvet navy cap strode forward.

A flash of red behind Lord Byrne caught my eye.

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