“I suppose that proof would require you replacing Aramaz on the throne.”
“I don’t expect my brother would agree with what I have in mind.”
Her lips twitched in amusement. “An interesting plan,” Rada commented, playing with the collar of my tunic. “I only wonder why I should help you.”
Her gaze met mine, fierce and unrelenting. Ah, so my queen needed some reassurances. I would love to show her how magnificent it would be if we were allies.
My hand closed around her nape, pulling her closer. She hadn’t touched me since our shared moment in the Other, and while I had resolved to give her the time she needed, suddenly I couldn’t wait to kiss her again.
“I would… convince our brethren to restore your power, of course.” With force, if necessary, though this wasn’t the moment to mention it. Only the smallest space remained between us, her warmth tempting me. I leaned in even closer, my lips brushing her jaw as I whispered, “Or I could share. Chaos suits you quite well, little queen.”
Her hand clenched the fabric of my tunic, her entire body tensing. With a graceful twirl, she stepped out of my arms, putting distance between us. Confusion and disappointment raged within me. What had I said to make her close off so suddenly?
“Aren’t you being a bit hasty?” Rada’s voice was tightly controlled as she gathered the peeled potatoes. “We don’t even know how to restore your magic. And we have neither an army nor any allies.”
“Details we can figure out eventually,” I replied, refusing to give up so easily. Deira had said Zarastris had given the Chaoscrown to Asiza. Galator must be furious, and I doubted their alliance was harmonious. I would need to find a way to sow dissent between themand reclaim the Crown myself. Those plans I should keep to myself for the time being, though. Rada, I could guess, would judge them much too dangerous.
“I have my mind, and I have you,” I said instead. “In my opinion, that’s a brilliant start.”
Rada slid a knife across the table. “A brilliant start would be if you finished peeling those potatoes, or we won’t even have dinner,” she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. There was a noticeable sway to her hips as she fetched a small basket from the kitchen. Little minx. “I’ll get some fresh rosemary and thyme from the garden.”
I sat down again and picked up a potato, tossing it into the air and catching it. “Don’t be so cruel,saeraery. You know we would be glorious together. In and out of bed.”
She paused at the door, giving me a partly amused, partly exasperated glance over her shoulder. “I didn’t say yes, Belekoroz,” she reminded me.
I grinned, my good mood restored. I had never backed down from the challenge she posed; no, I loved tangling with her. “You also didn’t say no.”
Her laughter drifted back to me as she closed the door.
My peace didn’t last long. I had barely finished preparing the remaining potatoes when Briseis and Varien burst in. The young Elvish boy was not only drenched but also smeared with mud, chunks of it clinging to his bright golden hair. A grin spread across his face as his mother yanked off his boots, muttering that Aunt Rada would have a fit if she saw the dirt on her floors.
“But Ma,” he protested. “I swear, Selma pushed me into the mud on purpose.”
“He’s probably right,” I chimed in. “Those araks can be sneaky. They did the same to me once.”
My remark earned me a wide-eyed “Really?” from the boy, though his mother remained unfazed, instructing him to head straight to the shower. Briseis stayed silent after he had left, her movements precise as she picked up Rada’s abandoned knife from the table. She carried her hare into the kitchen and began to gut it over the sink. Her striking face betrayed no hint of discomfort as she collected the intestines in a bowl, her hands slick with blood.
“Strange work for a princess of the great house of Lyrasen,” I commented.
She laughed, holding the hare by its ears, her knife flashing as she expertly skinned it. “I’ve always been more of a hunter than a princess.” Her blue eyes met mine. “So, Rada told you who I am.”
“No,” I answered, not wanting to drive another wedge between Baradaz and one of her friends. “She keeps her secrets close to her heart these days.”
“Can you blame her?”
I shook my head and elaborated. “Fifty years is not a long time for your kind. You haven’t changed much from the bright-eyed girl at your brother’s wedding.” She had become tougher, a blade honed by grief and hardship, but still as sharp as ever.
My words made her blink in surprise. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d notice one Elvish girl among many that night.”
“I always make sure to notice those who matter,” I replied with a charming smile.
The Elf was not easily fooled. “You mean your enemies,” she said.
I didn’t deny it. Her family had been loyal to Aramaz for generations, and I had taken note of them, planning for the future, observing the fault lines between her and her brothers.
“I remember that night well, though many forgot when Yggdrasil burned hours later.” Briseis paused her work, her full attention onme. “Barely freed from your chains, you were already causing a scandal. You dared to arrive at the festivities with the Star Queen on your arm, as if she were your spouse and not your brother’s. You danced with her all night, kissed her in front of everyone…” A broad smile spread across the Elf’s face. “Leander was furious.”
I could imagine. Her arrogant younger brother, third in line for the Sunfyre throne of the High Elves’ kingdom, had always despised me, even before the start of the war. Provoking him and the rest of the Elvish nobility had filled me with unrestrained glee that night.
