Page 31 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“You’ll address me as Your Majesty now,” she said calmly. “You’re right. I don’t know as much as any of you here, but I am the Queen of Rhyenelle.”

“Not while Malin Ashfyre sits on the throne as king,” someone said.

“He’s a false king,” Kyleer warned. “If anyone in this damned camp has even the slightest disagreement with that, you’d better make it known now.”

The tension grew thick enough to cut. Faythe might have buckled, were it not for her pillars of strength: her friends. She wasn’t born into this, had barely had the time to grasp whatbeing a ruler meant before she was thrust into a war—not just for her kingdom, but for the entire continent.

She knew there was resistance to her sudden status. In the wake of the king’s death, no one had been given time to grieve or to adjust to the shifting crown. So Faythe understood, but what she wouldn’t tolerate, like Kyleer, was doubt about her right to rule over Malin.

“We will not win against Dakodas.” Faythe’s voice rose. “She is the real threat in our kingdom, not Malin. But we are not enough to consider any advance on Ellium.”

“So we hide,” Cale said sourly.

“Better to wait and gather a bigger plan than lose warriors out of pride that gets us nowhere.”

Her stare-off with this commander turned heated.

“I agree with our queen,” Leon said.

Though it pleased her to hear this, she didn’t allow any relief to quell her nerves.

Cale said, “Aren’t you supposed to be powerful? How can we follow a fable? APhoenix Queen,who was there as the kingdom was invaded and did nothing to stop it.”

“What use is a mind ability to an army?” another remarked.

A line of lightning shot from her fingertips, cleaving the table but not splitting it entirely apart. Everyone in the tent backed away from it.

Faythe said, “Power doesn’t make anyone invincible. Including Marvellas and Dakodas.”

“Maybe Malin was right,” Cale said. “You may be powerful, but you are untrained and volatile in this role.”

Steel cut through the tent. Kyleer pointed the Ember Sword at the commander’s chest.

“Sounds like you’re declaring a side,” he said like a warning.

Cale’s face twisted in anger. “You would order me cut down,Your Majesty?”

Faythe debated the order for the mockery dripping in that title alone. “Depends on your answer,” she said.

His glare felt warm over her skin.

“I have been loyal to King Agalhor Ashfyre for longer than you’ve been alive,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yet in questioning me, you question his judgment to declare me his heir.”

“I do not. I’m merely saying you have a long way to go to learn what it takes to lead our people.”

“Watch yourself,” Kyleer said in a deceitful calm.

Faythe’s fingers clenched against the wood, and with a groan, the table pulled back together, the flare of her gold magick filling the crack before dying out, leaving the table and the map perfectly untouched by her violence, save for the knocked-over figurines. Everyone looked over it with confusion and awe.

“Send the order to every general to retreat to High Farrow. They’ll aid in securing the borders and protecting the citizens there,” Faythe said.

“So we abandon our own people?” another commander asked.

Faythe despised what she had to admit. “No. Rhyenelle is still under the rule of an Ashfyre, rightful or not. So long as he’s kept alive, I have to gamble the citizens of his kingdom are safe for now. Malin’s only goal has been to discredit me to the council lords and take the crown. He’ll need the people on his side. So we must shift our defense toward High Farrow, as it’s the last kingdom not infiltrated by Marvellas. If we lose that, we have no stronghold left.”

Faythe exchanged a look with Nik, assured by his single nod.

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