“Your uncle,” Taelon whispered. “The council has continued his regency until your twenty-first birthday. They’re giving the realm to you, but not until you’re ready for it.”
My mind spun. “King Regent? But he’ll still be in charge!”
“He is to guide you, Tessa. He is to show you the ways of being a monarch and how to rule the realm. He is still King. But one day…” His hands gently cupped my face. “One day you shall be Queen.” The corner of his lips lifted softly. “And in the meantime, maybe you could guide him as well. In the ways of kindness and goodness. In the way of fearlessness.”
No matter what had happened up until today, no matter how many brushes with death I’d faced or people that refused to acknowledge my bloodline, this man believed me.
And I knew him to be the greatest man in the realm.
A whimpering at my feet drew my attention. “Shiksa!” Pushing away from Taelon I scooped my foxling up and cradled her against my chest. “Oh, you brave thing. Are you okay?” Fresh tears wet my lashes as her head rolled from one side to the other.
“What happened?” Taelon demanded.
“She saved my life.” I looked up at him. “Twice.”
He grinned at me. “So, the little fox and I do have a few things in common.”
I ignored him. “Will she be all right?”
He felt her body, moving his hands gently over her. After a minute he said, “She’ll recover. She’s beat up. But not broken.”
I breathed a sigh of relief just in time for Tyrn and a host of other sovereigns to appear in the doorway. The royals cried out as they absorbed the aftermath of Crenshaw’s attack, astonished by the mess and rain still flooding my room.
“What happened here?” Tyrn demanded.
Taelon stepped away from me and faced the council. “Your guard,” he explained. “Your master guard tried to kill the future queen.”
“Crenshaw would never,” Tyrn said. “You’re mistaken.”
“Look around, Your Majesty,” Taelon dared. “She barely escaped.”
“And what happened to Crenshaw?”
I gestured toward the thunderstorm. “He jumped out the window.”
As questions started flying at me, I realized that Conandra was my life now—I would always be on trial. Maybe not literally, but with these people I would always have questions to answer and an identity to prove. I wasn’t just a future Queen of Elysia, but Queen of the Realm. My quest had finally ended.
But the journey to becoming queen was just beginning.
31
“You summoned me?” I asked as I swept into a mediocre curtsy. Apparently, I was more out of practice with court decorum than I had originally believed.
My uncle raised his head from where a footman held papers for his inspection. His expression was one of undisguised disdain, but whether it was for my ugly curtsy or my overall wellbeing, I could not say. The Crown of Nine sat upon his head.
But it would be mine soon enough.
“Tessana,” he murmured. “I’ve been waiting.”
“I was exploring the castle grounds. I understand that your guards had trouble finding me.”
He frowned. “You are meant to be queen. You cannot go traipsing off where no one can find you. You of all people should know this. Let the guards do their job and protect you.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
I sounded docile and obedient, but in fact, I would not trust my safety with guards, even Elysian ones, ever again. Not after Crenshaw. Not after his body had yet to be found.
Tyrn didn’t believe me the day it happened, and he was no closer to believing me now. He explained Crenshaw’s absence as regrettable, but not threatening. Tyrn believed, or claimed to believe, that Crenshaw couldn’t stand the idea of transferring his loyalty to a different ruler of the realm and so he’d defected.
