“What is it?” he asked, annoyed that no one had yet thought to inform him of what was happening now. Had more Arathian ships landed on their shores? Had Arlund fallen?
“It’s Mysai,” his kirei whispered, stopping his heart in its tracks. Her gaze turned his way—cold and sharp, like honed steel—as she shoved the scroll into his hands. All it housed was six small words:
Mysai will fall. Drakmor betrayed us.
Chapter twenty-three
Seraphina
She blazed down the corridor, making for her chambers, her godfather, Sir Easome, and her Queensguard hot on her trail. She didn’t look back. She didn’t slow. She kept her eyes fixed forward and her mind focused on not letting the frustrated scream she so wanted to unleash explode from her throat.
Mysai would fall. Drakmor had betrayed them.
Why?Why?None of it made sense.
Why try to force her to marry his brother if Edmund’s plan all along was to ally with Arath? Had it all been some sort of…sick attempt to embarrass her? To punish her?
But then what about the witchblade-wielding assassin sent by Arath? She and Aldric dying that night would have served Arath’sinterests, but not Drakmor’s. What good for Edmund would have come of her dying before she was married to his brother? What good for Edmund would have come ofAldricdying at all?
Aldricisthe rightful King of Drakmor.
A humorless laugh escaped her as she burst into her sitting room, startling the maid already in there, tidying up. Was that it, then? Had Edmund allied with Arath simply out of pettiness? To rid himself of a woman who had scorned him and Drakmor’s rightful heir all in one blow?
But no. That didn’t make sense either. Aldric had been removed from the line of succession fifteen years ago by his father. The world had thought him dead. It wasEdmundwho had made him a threat again when he restored him to the title of prince.
And if he had merely wanted to kill the Crow, wouldn’t it have made more sense to eliminate him quietly when he was still stationed at Blackrun?
She was missing something. And thatsomethingwas going to drive her mad.
“Thank you, but that will be all,” she dismissed the maid with a tight smile in the midst of making for her study. Her latest treaty with Drakmor was housed there. Perhaps there would be some clue as to Edmund’s plan hidden within the legalese. Whatever she was missing, she might very well have overlooked during the summit.
Footsteps pounded against the floor behind her. Her godfather’s voice sliced through her spiraling thoughts. “Your Majesty, we need to discuss next steps.”
“I know,” she bit out, bursting into her study. A warm fire crackled in the hearth, and the drapes were already flung open, allowing the watery sunlight to spill across her desk, illuminating the stack of parchments there. “Summon the war council. I just need to gather a few things, and then we can make for the council chamber.”
“The war council?” Duke Percival asked, hobbling into her study with his varhound, Rogue, and Sir Easome. “Wellane and Coreto have already quit Goldreach, Your Majesty. Aside from Mistress Olivia and Father Perero, who rarely have an opinion about anything at all, weareyour war council.”
“And my husband,” Seraphina reminded him as she gathered the scroll case containing the Elmoria-Drakmor treaty into her arms.Husband. The word still sounded odd to her ears, but perhaps the more she said it, the faster she would grow accustomed to it. “I want them both with us as we discuss a new strategy for Mysai.”
No sooner had those words departed her lips than a sudden dark thought leached its way into her mind. A flicker of doubt. Was Aldric a part of this plot, too? Had he known about Edmund’s plans all along?
“Your Majesty—” her godfather started to protest again.
But she hardened her jaw and spoke over him. “Where is he?”
“Here,” her Crow’s familiar deep voice rumbled from the doorway, sending shockwaves of conflicted feelings rippling through her as Duke Percival and Sir Easome stepped out of the way to allow the shorter man to limp into the room.
Was he friend or foe? Enemy or ally? Again, she was unsure.
And she was growing so very weary of being unsure.
“Did you know about this?” she asked him directly. Her eyes met his, searching those dark depths for any hint of hesitation or deception.No more secrets. That was what they had agreed to just last night.
No. More. Blasted. Secrets.
“No,” he answered at once, shaking his head. Though, as ever, his scarred features remained an opaque mask she held no hopes of piercing, he was quick to add, “On my mother’s grave, I swear it, Sera—I didn’t know that my brother would ally with Arath.”
His gaze held hers, unwavering, unblinking. After a few more tense moments of hesitation, she let herself breathe again. The set of her shoulders ever-so-slightly relaxed.
