Page 98 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
“I have my own people to protect,” Francis shrugged. “And I will do so with or without your help.” He addressed the Queen, “It is your choice to allow our companionship, but make nomistake, if we aren’t bonded by an agreement I will not be bothered with any aid that might be needed on your side.”
“What are you? The savior of savages?” Timothy laughed, noting Francis' hand on the back of my chair.
“We actually aren’t interested in savingyou,” Roxanne’s eyes shot fire at Timothy.
“Enough,” the Queen raised her hand, silencing the room. “How do we know you will carry out your part of the deal?” She directed the question at me, ignoring my company altogether. “So far your kind has brought nothing but disarray into our lives, and need I remind you of your own slanderous actions given the royal mark on the letter?”
“Your Majesty,” Roxanne leaned in on her chair. “We had been trying to bring this matter to your table for months, but your trusted council has denied us every single time.” Her gaze swept over Martin. “Given the extremity of the situation we had to resort to rather desperate actions.”
“Hm.” My mother met my gaze once again. “Perhaps you were driven by desperation, or perhaps you are scheming for the Royal family to fall: as your kind often wishes.”
The mask of indifference slipped from my face as I couldn’t resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Mother, you needn’t play in whateverschemeyou think necessary. We both know we need each other to prevent peopleandinnocent vampires from dying at the hands of those who killed Brian and Father.”
Silence fell onto the room, even Timothy froze in place at my boldness.
Mother bestowed me with the glare I’d always tried to avoid at all cost.
I glared back.
“I would like a word with Cordelia,” the Queen said at last, her eyes never left mine. “Privately.” She gestured for everyone out, including her guards.
“Your Majesty—” One of the guards started.
“Now!” Mother’s voice sliced through the room.
The council and the guards reluctantly departed with calculating stares addressed to me.
I nodded at my company when they hadn’t moved at the Queen’s demands.
Florence’s worried eyes met mine before she shut the door behind her.
“You would like to talk openly?” Mother asked me though I knew the question did not require my reply. “Very well then.” She got up from the table. “You are right, we do need each other to survive whatever is to come. But,” she crooked her head. “The agreement will not come without a valuable exchange of trust.”
“As Francis has already said—”
“You made a great mistake associating with those thieves,” she interrupted me. When my brows frowned, unable to hide my surprise, she continued. “Yes, I know very well of them; it is my Kingdom, Cordelia, do not make the mistake of ever forgetting that.” Mother walked towards the window, studying the frozen patterns of ice. “They will bring no more than disaster into your now immortal being,” she choked on the last two words, meeting my gaze. “I did not raise a thief.”
“You did not raise me at all, Mother.” I leaned back on the chair. “Need I remind you, you only took interest in my life when it suited your future political proposals?”
Her features hardened, yet I spotted a trace of hurt in her eyes. It disappeared as fast as it came. “It does not change the fact that you are walking a dangerous path that will get you killed.”
“Since when do you worry yourself with my survival?” My brows shot up. “Can we get back to the matter at hand?”
The Queen sighed. “I am ready to accept your proposition if you present to me an army of your own ready to defend mypeople. I will give you half of the supplies at the next full moon and the rest when you come to our aid when we need it. If you fail to arrive in our time of need, the deal will be considered void and the exchange of weaponry will cease.”
I nodded. “I would like a written agreement.”
“Obviously.” She studied me for a moment before sighing. “I knew it was you, back in the study with the orphan boy,” she shook her head so slightly.
“He is a grown man, Mother, not a boy.” I bit out.
Mother eyed me for a moment before a sad smile made it onto her face. “I knew it was a mistake to let you leave, to let you steal the documents, though my foolish heart did not allow me the words. So I just let you go.”
“Do you regret it now?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I do not. Although there were better ways of doing this, daughter.”
“I will write to you,” I told Sandra when we hugged goodbye. The snow fell onto her pink cheeks and her long lashes. “I will find a way to keep you far from him,” I added quietly.
