Page 80 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
“That sounds like something you need to get ready for,” I said.
He shrugged.
“Which means you can go now,” I tried again.
The knowing smirk that twisted his lips should have made me regret looking his way, but I couldn’t stop. “I will make my fortress respect your intimacy, but I won’t let you plot with your Clan behind my back. I’m staying.”
My lips parted. “You’re not.”
“I very much am.” He relaxed further into the wall. “I’mdyingto hear what you and your uncle have to say.”
Godsdammit.
It wasn’t like I would have dared to say any information out loud–Protectorate codes had been invented and kept secret for a reason–
A silver mist began to rise from the pages, smothering my words. I gave the Commander one last warning look before concentrating on the slow forming oval.
I licked my lips and rolled my shoulders back, looking as much as the Protectorate First Daughter as I could in this crater.
As the figures began to take shape in the mist, my heart plummeted.
Silas sat on the Protectorate stone and steel throne, dressed in a luxurious silver suit that shimmered too much. Apart from emphasizing his ever-growing gut, it did nothing to make him seem more regal–or worthy of the throne Dria Vegheara herself had sat on.
Because it wasn’t his.
At least he’d had the common sense not to wear the crown as well, forged by Grandpa Constantine himself out of a cannon’s rim in Ember Vale.
Behind Silas, instead of the sentinels, stood Orion and a man even taller than him, who I had never seen in my life. He had a scar running down his face and a mean glint to his eyes.
“I can see her.” Silas squinted at his own palaver–positioned on the last step of the throne platform, so I had to look up at him, spilling out of his expensive suit. “Is this thing working?”
“Uncle. Orion. Man I’ve never met,” I greeted, perhaps icier than I should have.
But the gall of Silas to be sitting onmythrone.
When he never bothered to attend the weekly throne room meetings.
When the seat wasn’t even cold yet after my father’smurder.
Who in Xamor’s name did he think he was?
He flinched and nodded gravely. “Allegra.”
I sighed and blinked rapidly, trying to keep my frustration in check.Of coursethe dolt would use my real name without making sure the connection was secure.
“I am not alone, uncle,” I said, trying to unclench my jaw.
“Oh, yes, yes, of course.” He tilted his chin up, trying to look imposing and failing miserably.
I didn’t have time for Silas’ grandstanding. “Where are my cousins? What have you heard?”
“They’re all with their Blood Brotherhood betrotheds or on the way there, same as you. Except Dax, nobody can find him.”
I began to breathe harder, my body already realising a truth my mind still refused.
“I hear congratulations are in order. The Clan Council had decreed the Commander for you.” Silas clapped, like the child he was. “Good match, I have to say.”
“Nothing is final,” I gritted out. “The Council hasn’t given its final verdict.”
