Page 20 of The Twisted Throne

“We are honored by your presence, Lady Ahnna,” James said. “Allow me to make introductions.” He gestured to the portly man at the far end. “Our captain, Sir John Drake.” His hand moved to a handsome man with long brown hair tied with a ribbon, themedals on his uniform gleaming brightly. “Lieutenant George Cavendish, lord heir to the earldom of Elgin.”

The lieutenant gave her a rakish smile. “A pleasure, Your Highness.”

“Ahnna is fine,” she replied, because no one in Ithicana ever called her by her title.

“Of course, my lady. Please call me Georgie, everyone does.”

“Only if you call me Ahnna.”

His smile grew. “It would be my honor, Lady Ahnna.”

Titles clearly weren’t a battle she was going to win, but the loss was softened by Georgie’s wink.

James carried on around the table, introducing the men, who were all high-ranking officers and lords, their coats heavily decorated with medals, ribbons, and tassels. Many were names she’d heard mentioned in spy reports, and she focused on each of their faces so as to commit them to memory. Important men with power, wealth, and influence, and she’d be wise to earn their favor.

Finishing his introductions, he said, “Lady Taryn was just regaling us with the tribulations of transporting Harendell’s cattle through the bridge to be sold at Southwatch.”

LadyTaryn hiccuped, then exclaimed, “Remember when Aren cracked three ribs and broke his arm during one of the runs, Ahnna? He’s hated cows ever since, though I’m not sure whether it’s because he remembers the pain or because he fell face-first into a pile of shit.” She hiccuped again, trying to cover the sound by taking another mouthful of wine.

The men all chuckled, and Ahnna bit the inside of her cheeks, confident that the amusement was more for her cousin’s drunkenness than for the anecdote. A servant moved to refill Taryn’s glass, but Ahnna reached over to cover the top. “Water.”

Taryn gave her a murderous glare. “No one dictates what Idrink, especially you, Ahnna. I’m shocked you’re not on your third bottle by now.”

In truth, Ahnna had not drunk to excess since the night Southwatch had fallen to the Maridrinians and hadn’t been able to stomach the taste of white wine at all, for it brought back too many memories. Of waking in a half-drunk haze to the sound of alarm bells and screams, the fight upon her the moment she’d opened her bedroom door. The jolt of adrenaline that had come from her face being sliced open was the only reason she was still alive.

“Ahnna used to be fun,” Taryn said. “She used to have a sense of humor. Now all she cares about is duty.” She hiccuped. “Though perhaps that will help her fit into Harendell, as you’re all a stiff lot.”

Nothing Taryn said was a lie, but this behavior couldn’t stand. “Taryn”—she stared into her cousin’s eyes, silently trying to convey the importance of the moment—“please.”

Her cousin met her gaze for a long time, then her eyes welled with tears. “Apologies. I’ve had too much to drink.” She looked down, unable to hold Ahnna’s eyes any longer. “Excuse me.”

Rising to her feet, Taryn hurried from the room.

“I’ll check on her,” Bronwyn said. “Don’t wait on me.”

The room was silent, and Ahnna stared at the table, uncertain of what to say to remedy the situation. The last thing she wanted to do was reveal Taryn’s trauma to strangers, but the alternative was to allow the poor opinion these men likely had of her to stand.

James spared her by saying, “We were discussing the cattle runs, which are, of course, quite relevant to us. Lady Taryn seemed knowledgeable on the subject.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his amber eyes, which reflected the candlelight, making them glow. Ahnna’s interactions with Cardiffians were limited, and none had eyes quite the vibrant hue of his. For a heartbeat, she felt transfixed. It was said that those fromCardiff had magic, and looking into James’s eyes, she believed it. “Very knowledgeable. Taryn is a respected warrior in Ithicana and served as the king’s personal bodyguard for many years, but what she is famous for is her singing voice.”

Picking up her glass, she took a small sip. “The cattle are always terrified when we first drive them into the bridge. It’s dark and noisy and confined, and they are prone to stampeding, which causes injuries and deaths. We do what we can to keep them calm with animals like goats and donkeys, which are used to the bridge, but I’ve never seen anything work quite so well as when my cousin sang. Her voice would echo up and down the bridge, and by some trick of the acoustics, it drowned out the howling of the wind. The clatter of hooves. Like magic. The cows followed her through the bridge, mild as milk, arriving at Southwatch without a single injury.”

“Walking calmly to slaughter!” Georgie lifted his cup. “To cattle! On whose simple minds Harendell makes its fortune!”

“To cattle.” Ahnna lifted her glass. “And to Harendell running even more of them through the bridge in the coming season.”

All the other men echoed her words, drinking deeply, but to her surprise, James’s brow furrowed, and he did not drink. Setting her glass down, Ahnna asked, “Are you invested in something other than cattle, Your Highness? Steel, perhaps?”

“I’m as invested in cattle as any here,” he replied. “However, to increase trade in cattle, steel, and other goods through the bridge risks saturating the market and driving down prices. It may not be in our merchants’ best interest to flood the Southwatch market, given the Maridrinians can barely afford to buy the cattle we run through the bridge already. And they’ve certainly little need for our steel now that the war with Valcotta has ended. Better to sell in other markets.”

There was no argument she could give for the steel, but cattle were a different matter. Ithicana’s taxes were per head. The more animals the Harendellians ran through the bridge to Southwatch, the more gold went into Aren’s coffers. Gold that he could subsequently use to buy cattle to butcher for Ithicanian civilians, and he could buy more cattle if the price was low due to oversupply. But she could hardly admit that the Harendellians’ financial losses were a benefit to Ithicana. “The Maridrinians are suffering a famine, and you think of profit?”

James didn’t so much as flinch. “Harendell is sympathetic to Maridrina’s plight, but we must also protect our own. Tolls to use the bridge are high, but more than that, they are fixed per head, which means that if the price of cattle falls any further, our merchants will lose money selling at Southwatch. It is not Harendell’s duty to feed all of Maridrina while they rebuild; that falls upon Valcotta’s empress and her consort, for all know the part they played in Vencia’s destruction.”

Your countrywoman ensured Vencia’s destruction,Ahnna thought. She’d heard the tale of Lestara’s betrayal of Maridrina before Silas’s Cardiffian wife was transported through the bridge, her banishment to Harendell being Keris’s punishment for her treason. Except given that research into the royal family had revealed no connection between James and Cardiff beyond blood, Ahnna suspected the jab would not land as intended.

James continued to meet her gaze, and it felt like everyone else in the room disappeared as he stared her down. “Of course,” he added, “if Ithicana chooses to buy directly from us and take the loss between markets, it would have our support and admiration.”

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