Page 72 of Legacy of the Heirs
“What do you know of Sir Cain?” she asked, and the lord frowned.
“What is the relevance?”
Soren tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. “Your queen asked you a question.”
He shifted in his seat and leaned forward for the glass decanter of amber liquid. He poured two glasses and passed a glass to Soren,who refrained from making a face at the smell as she downed it in one. She ignored the burning sensation scorching her throat.Why must men involve alcohol in all their business?She asked herself before pouring another, refusing to be perceived as weak. “I require an answer, Lord Ryon.” She swirled the second glass as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“He is experienced and is Novisia’s oldest commander,” he said plainly. Soren swirled the liquid again.
“Could he be athreat?”she emphasised, and the lord shrugged.
“I do not think so, though he would defend Caellum should you attempt to take his life. Why?”
“I need to assess who could be a threat when I take the throne. He seems to care more than a typical commander,” she explained, and Lord Ryon scoffed.
“Caring will be his downfall, then, will it not?” He finished his drink and refilled it, matching the quantity in Soren’s glass. “Are there others who concern you?”
“The other rulers, yet that is purely from a power stance. Commander Kazaar could pose a threat, particularly if his queen was caught in any crossfire of my future plans. They seemed particularly…closeat the engagement ball.” Soren did not understand their dynamic, though she cared little about matters involving the heart.
“Few of those I stationed at the ball returned from the event, but those who did comment on their peculiar behaviour.”
“How many did we lose?” she asked.
“Enough.”
She nodded. The Lord of Night had named Lord Ryon when Soren was in the early stages of building her network across Novisia. Over the years, her people had become one with Ryon’s spies, all wronged by the usurpers in some way throughout history. His spies had been instrumental in casting doubt on Caellum’s reign and had played their part again during the riots. Though she had been rather displeased upon learning someone had stabbed Caellum, almost losing the glory she wished for herself.
“I have some worries, my queen.”
She raised her glass to her lips. “Do tell.”
“Your sister,” he said. The burning liquid lingered in Soren’s mouth before she swallowed and trained her eyes on him.
“What about her?”
Lord Ryon leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “The people like her.” Soren rolled her eyes. Everyone liked Sadira. “I worry that if they go ahead with the marriage, the people will accept her on the throne, and your claim will dwindle.”
Soren threw her glass, though he did not flinch as it smashed behind him.
“I will only tell you this once, Lord Ryon. Caellum will not have the throne. Mysisterwill not have the throne. I will havemythrone,” she sneered.
“And if your sister gets in the way?”
“She will not.”
“But if she does?”
“She willnot.” Soren rose from her chair, refusing to listen any longer. She was the only one who could question her sister. Crossing over to the window, she leaned against the ledge and stared at the figures in the distance, farming the fields of golden wheat dancing in the breeze. Her people.
“You know what needs to be done to hurry this along,” said the lord.
“Are you certain we have enough strength in Garridon to withstand challenge?” she asked.
“Gregor is too young and weak to challenge, and the others have always listened to me.”
“And what of the other realms? They could initiate war with us over this.”
“Is a civil war in Novisia really a priority with what we are up against?”
