Given the mild climate, Hytooth Palace was largely open-air, letting in the breeze and the sound of the shushing tide. Their guest bedroom was in an upper portion of the yellow-painted tower, which afforded a breathtaking ocean view. When Bryn stood at the door, the wide windows showed sea and sky as far as she could see.
“We’ll have your rucksacks brought up,” Phillipa said. “Though you packed so lightly, you must be in need of extra clothing and other accouterments. I’ll have some things sent up for you.”
“We’d be grateful,” Bryn said. “Thank you.”
“And you must join Declan and me for tea,” Phillipa continued. “Traveling always leaves me starving, and it will be so good to grow acquainted . . .”
“Actually,” Rangar cut in. “We were hoping to speak to your aunt, the queen.”
Both Declan and Phillipa fell into an awkward, uncharacteristic silence. While Phillipa busied herself with a loose string on her gown, Declan cleared his throat. “Queen Amelia is ailing, as I’m sure you are aware. The healers have advised her to focus exclusively on rest before the grand parlay.”
“Understandable,” Rangar said. “But between us, we did not arrive two days early because we feared wolf attacks on the road. We have reason to believe other royal families are plotting to bring strife to the Eyrie. Queen Amelia must know what evidence we have before the others arrive and can influence her.”
Declan and Phillipa exchanged a cryptic, uncomfortable look. Sensing their hesitation, Bryn cleared her throat.
“With all due respect,” Bryn added, “We would never want to tax your aunt, but the future of the Eyrie is at stake.”
Finally, Declan rested a heavy hand on Rangar’s shoulder. “It isn’t just my aunt’s health, my old friend. The truth is, I’m afraid you aren’t the only one with that plan.”
Alarm tiptoed up Bryn’s spine. “What do you mean?”
Sighing, Declan rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Ruma’s delegation arrived yesterday,alsowishing to speak with my aunt in advance of the grand parlay.”
Bryn held in a gasp. “King Cedric and Queen Yves are already here?”
Now she understood the palace guards’ strange behavior when they arrived. It had to appear unusual fortwodelegations to arrive early and unannounced, if not outright suspicious.
“Not exactly,” Declan said slowly. “The Cheron royal family is scheduled to arrive in two days, with everyone else. However, they sent an emissary ahead of them.”
An icy fist formed in Bryn’s stomach. She dreaded the name they might say. “Who?”
Phillipa clasped her hands, biting her lip. “Baron Marmose.”
Chapter 30
A TROUBLED QUEEN . . . the snake and his dogs . . . beaten to the chase . . . a confused king . . . Bryn's new idea
“Baron Marmose?” Rangar roared. “Where is he?”
Declan held out a calming hand against Rangar’s flare of temper. “Now, Rangar, we all know you act rashly when you’re angry. The baron is in the library . . .” Declan swallowed hard. “With my aunt.”
“He’s speaking with thequeen?” Rangar roared louder.
Phillipa flinched. “We tried to tell him the same thing we told you, that our aunt needed rest before the grand parlay, but just like you, he insisted he’d come with urgent business that required her attention.”
Bryn’s legs, aching from days on Fable, threatened to give out. She sank onto a wooden chair.
Baron Marmose is already here? He beat us?
Her hands curled into fists on the armrests, outraged that such a snake had outwitted them.
“In that case, I must speak with Queen Amelia immediately,” Rangar snapped, heading for the door.
Declan blocked the doorway, holding out his hands. “Rangar, by the Saints! You’re a king now, not some headstrong, backwater prince! Get control of yourself. You think my aunt will be responsive if you storm in making demands?”
Rangar stopped, though his chest still rose and fell heavily.
Phillipa added, “You know how much our aunt values decorum. She was fond of you and your brothers as boys but always thought you were too wild. You must show her you’ve grown into an honorable man.”
