I suppress a smile while I move to tighten his collar, fix the position of the gleaming gold bell at his throat. “Do you recall what King Colier, my late father, said?”
Wilcox swallows audibly, his throat moving with a nervous bob as he shakes his head.
“He said, ‘Foolish is the king who does not prepare for attack. From outsiders, as well as thosewithin.’” I drop my hand, eyes lifting up to his face that’s gone pale. “Don’t you agree that’s good advice, Wilcox?”
A shaky, nervous breath comes from between thin lips, but he manages a nod. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Casting a casual glance at the other two, I note their shock—the sweat on Uwen’s bushy brows, the paled face of Barthal.
One carefully worded statement, and I’ve issued my warnings. I consider every ally as a potential threat, and I won’t hesitate to end anyone who goes against me.
“I expect an answer to my inquiries soon. That will be all, gentlemen,” I say in clear dismissal, enjoying every part of their discomfort as my guards follow me, moving past my dumbstruck advisors.
I turn at the second floor railing, hand curving over the banister as I look down on them. “Oh, and all hawks have been suspended from use as of today. No messages will be allowed in or out without my direct approval.”
The sight of their slack-jawed faces nearly makes me smile. I turn, satisfaction brewing through me as I stride for my chambers, knowing that every day I spend, every maneuver I make, I’m that much closer to tightening my grasp over Highbell.
By the time Tyndall tries to return to Sixth Kingdom, it will be far too late.
Chapter 19
AUREN
I’m sick.
I don’t know if I caught something from the horde of soldiers or if it’s the stress or if it’s simply that my body just can’t take being out in the endless cold anymore. Whatever it is, my brain feels like it’s ready to thump out of my skull.
I haven’t felt sick like this in a long time, but it brings back bad memories of Zakir. I was sick a lot back then—all the children were.
His business of buying us to run his beggar scheme was good for his bottom line, but apparently, not good enough to want to take proper care of us. We just had to suffer through it, because he certainly didn’t give us a day off. He said people were more likely to feel sorry for sick children, anyway.
There were a lot of us, tightly packed together in the cold and sometimes even wet sleeping arrangements, never with enough food, hygiene less than stellar.
I don’t even like to think about the times I had to dig for tossed out leftovers. Garbage. I ate garbage sometimes.
Even then, kids would steal it from you if you tried to stash it away; it didn’t matter how much gunk was gathered on it. No wonder sickness ran rampant.
Still, I hate feeling weaker than I already am. All I can do is sleep it off and hope no one notices that I’m even more vulnerable than before.
I nearly snort. If there’s one thing the commander is aware of, it’s my vulnerabilities. The saddles too, for that matter.
It’s been three days since Rissa set the price for her silence. But in those three days, I haven’t seen Commander Rip once, except for his sleeping silhouette when I sneak out of the tent every morning before dawn.
I’ve tried to go visit the saddles again every night once we stop traveling. Twice I was turned away. Last night, the guards who saw me with Lu were on duty, so they allowed me a short visit, but that was almost worse.
The girls wouldn’t even look at me except to spew their frustrations about my freedom to walk around versus their inability to leave their crowded tent.
At least I was able to confirm that no soldier has tried to use them yet.
I want to keep trying, to break through to them and let them see that I’m not their enemy, but the effort is always so disheartening because it never gets me anywhere.
If anything, they’ve just started hating memore.
Yet they’re not the only reason why I’ve been making it a point to visit. It’s also so that I can continue my search for the messenger hawks.
I make sure to go a different way every time, to continue to map the camp. They set it up nearly the same every single night. It would be easy if this army weren’t so damn big.
But the thought of trekking around in the snow right now and then dealing with the saddles makes me groan in exhaustion.
