“Lord Gronwen, I appreciate the concern, and while I understand this may not have been my father’s wish, I do believe he would have been pleased with my mate and my choice to put him on the throne beside me. Eaton is a prince in his own right, and with the help of the council, of course, he and I intend to rule with the grace, wisdom, and integrity that my father was so well known for.”
Everyone stares as she lifts her chin a degree higher. Gronwen draws up his spine.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Eaton beams. “And to answer your previous question—I am up for the challenge. We both are.” His fingers thread through Sorscha’s—a united front. “While we’re on the topic of choices, Sorscha and I have been discussing the kind of leaders we want to be. We plan to do things differently. None of this court posturing and stiff council bullshit.”
“The council is a fixture. We were Derek’s most trusted advisors.”
“We don’t intend to dissolve it. But it is important to both of us that we have peoplewetrust, people who would go into hell for us. Right, angel? And the people in this room have all proved themselves. The ones I know, at least.”
I hang my head.
Eaton, this is not the place for rash decisions.
“That being said, Sorscha and I would like to appoint some newpositions to the council. Starting with Zadyn. Hand of the King. And Queen.”
My eyes bulge. “Jace is Hand. Really, I don’t want?—”
“Too bad, it’s done. Serena—Dragon Rider—enough said. Meredith…Temperance Advisor? Mistress of Witch Operations? We’ll think of something. Kai, Master of Persuasion. Dover—Assistant to the Master of Persuasion.”
“I think we might need to finesse these titles later,” Dover mutters to Mar.
“None of those are actual positions.” Gronwen seethes, red splotches creeping over every inch of his ivory skin.
“They are now!” Eaton holds out his arms.
“A council must retain a High Priest, a Head of Records and Coin,” the High Priest says in his paper-frail voice.
Sorscha nudges her husband.
“Fine. The two of you can stay,” Eaton decides. “But this one’s becoming a real sourpuss and, quite frankly, dragging the whole mood down.” He points at Gronwen.
“This is an outrage!” Gronwen slams his fist against the table.
I leap to my feet. “As yourunwillingHand, my first piece of advice is to keep Gronwen on. He’s been a fixture at court and on this council for a long time. He’s experienced. Derek trusted him.”
“Fine. He can stay. If he promises not to be a stick in the mud.”
I toss Gronwen a pleading look for the sake of peacekeeping. Beside me, Serena is fucking convulsing, her hand over her mouth, trying to keep her laughter at bay.
You’re not helping,I snap.
Oh, this is all you,she responds through her fit.
“Fine. I agree not to be…a stick in the mud,” Gronwen grits, each word begrudging.
“Fantastic, then welcome to Queen Sorscha’s small council.”
“Lord Gronwen, I must apologize for my husband’senthusiasm.” Sorscha sends Eaton a pointed look.
He melts into a smile. “Is this our first fight?”
Sorscha ignores him, redirecting her attention to Gronwen. “What other matters did you plan to discuss today?”
“Well, I had hoped for some progress on the deal with the King of Vod.” He glances at Serena, who’s finally starting to sober.
She clears her throat. “None worth mentioning.”
“As far as we know, their deal is binding,” I announce. “I’m still searching for a way out of it.”
