How does Ceridwen already know how to threaten me? Because we have the same weakness?
But what will she get out of this?
“What do you want?” I yield, jaw tight.
“Who said I want anything?”
I roll my eyes and move to stand beside Theron, directly in front of her, not giving her the satisfaction of any more responses. Theron cocks a brow at me, his eyes sweeping over Ceridwen once, and I swear he mouthsthank youto her.
“Good,” he says to me.
No, it isn’t good. I should be running out of here, tearing apart this kingdom for the key or the Order, and instead I—
Made the decision a queen would make. A carefuldecision, not a rash decision.
So why doesn’t my chest feel any less tight?
I dip my eyes to Conall and Garrigan, who move to stand behind me, trying for the normal stance they’ve taken so often. But when they think I’m not looking, they both tenderly prod at their ribs or the bruises on their cheeks.
Seeing them like this, damaged because of me yet still resolute beside me, provokes two different reactions in my body—gnawing remorse that I am so violently undeserving of them, and an even stronger rising cascade of fury.
I will be someone worthy of their loyalty. I willmakemyself worthy.
“Queen Giselle.” Theron raises his voice and steps forward. “I—”
“This visit is quite unorthodox.” Giselle doesn’t break stride in whatever note she’s writing. She probably heard everything we said, didn’t she?
“Your Highness,” Theron tries again, keeping his tone calm and even. “We come with the best of intentions—an opportunity for an alliance among all the kingdoms of Primoria.”
And to distract you long enough to find a way to open the magic chasm without you knowing,I mentally add.
Giselle swings away from the notes, her eyes flicking between Ceridwen, Theron, and me. “Yakim has never been at war with any of you. Why should I care about something that does not involve my kingdom?”
Theron takes another cautious step toward her. “Because this isn’t simply about peace; this is about equality. Doing away with old barriers and erecting a new standard among Primoria’s eight kingdoms.”
“Equality.” Giselle clucks her tongue like the word tastes bad. “What would be the benefits of such an arrangement?”
I keep my eyes on her, though she doesn’t seem concerned about anyone else in the room outside of Cordell. The realization makes me bristle, and I remember what Ceridwen said about more than one Rhythm being together. Not only is it hard to breathe, it’s hard not to feel like a child listening in on adults.
Theron draws a rolled-up parchment from his jacket and hands it to her. “A treaty, already signed by Summer, Autumn, and Cordell. The terms are quite simple, laying the groundwork for a world in which all eight kingdoms serve not only their citizens, but one another. In times of war, we gather in councils of peace; in times of trouble, we come to one another’s aid. You’ll wish to read it, I assume, so I don’t ask that you sign it today.”
Giselle takes the scroll from him, her eyes narrow in thought. This speech sounds grand, but I have to hold back my groan.
Will this change anything?
“Noam signed this?” Giselle asks, her tone sharp.
Theron doesn’t flinch. “Cordell has signed it, yes.”
Giselle sees the same hole in Theron’s words that I do.She squints at him, silence looming, before she blows out an exhale.
“You look so like your father. Pity,” she whispers, a brush of noise that might have been intentional, might have been accidental in its volume.
Theron frowns as I do. Was that a jab at Noam? From another Rhythm?
Before I can garner any hope that Yakim might be a better ally than previously thought, Giselle’s eyes leave Theron to latch onto me. “Winter hasn’t signed it?”
Damn it all.
