Or, visitors, rather. The duke has brought his counterpart, The Emerald Blade, Duchess Calessevan.
The two make a formidable pair, the duchess in resplendent jade scaleskin armor while the duke wears clothes of the finest materials, stitched through with golden thread. They stand before the dais, both delivering a look that’s more imperious than reverential.
“I was told you have information about my bride,” I say, looking from one then to the other.
Something’s not right here.
Why would they both need to be here for something so simple? Why come at all when a courier could have delivered a message?
“Pathetic,” the duchess sneers, her upper lip curling.
“A so-called king, moping after a female who doesn’t want him,” the duke says. “Not even ahumanwants you. What makes you think the reach ever would?”
“We’re here for what’s rightfully ours,” the duchess says coldly. “This needn’t be a bloody affair like that mess with Farandir.”
My grip tightens on the arms of the throne, claws digging into the bark.
I’ve been a fool.
I invited them right past my defenses. Directly into the heart of the keep. Crownwood had no reason to block their access when I welcomed them.
The guard…I look to the doors and realize they should’ve been there while I received visitors. I’ve been too wrapped in my own self-pity to notice how alone I am.
“It was so kind of you to share your tactics with Earl Brennar’s men before giving them cause to loathe you more than they already did,” Duke Calessevan says, dousing my last ember of hope.
I’m on my own. I’ve let the reach down again.
“This can be simple,” the duchess says, clearly trying to sound sweet. Instead it’s cloying and fake, and there’s no mistaking the viper ready to strike behind her eyes when she steps closer. “Step down. Walk away. Go back to whatever Wilds you crawled out of, and we will all forget about this unfortunate chapter of our history.”
Her words echo in the hollow void of my chest. Everything they’ve said is from the same script I’ve been telling myself.Everything I feared was being whispered behind my back, now said directly to my face without remorse.
It should hurt. It should make me angry. It should dosomething, but there’s nothing.
No failure or insult can compare to losing Ingrid.
Duke Calessevan scoffs, shaking his head with a mirthless laugh. “How in the cursed wilds did you ever think you possessed the strength to occupy the Emerald throne? One mention of the human who rejected you is all it takes to make your rule crumble.”
I narrow my eyes at the pair. They might be right about everything else, but this is where they’re wrong.
It will take more than that to unseat me.
“If you want me to leave this throne,” I say, drawing on the last bit of strength I have. The only resistance I can put up. “You’re going to have to remove me.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ingrid
“I’m not able to get you closer than this,” the Dealmaker says as my feet find purchase on the frosty ground outside Crownwood’s gates.
Frost?Dread washes over me.
What’s happened while I’ve been gone?
“Thank you for getting me this far,” I say, sending a look past the Dealmaker to his mate. I’m not privy to the finer details of how this whole deal is supposed to work out, but Serenity told me not to worry about it, that she’d handle things with Anumar.
With the suggestive tone she used, I didn’t ask more questions.
Truthfully, I’ve got bigger concerns on my mind.
