“I offered it to Gerrie first, but she declined,” was the only explanation she gave. The prince looked like he was about to ask who Gerrie was, but Conalle cut in.
“Gerrie is Solveig’s chief shieldmaiden. Now, for all his faults, Latham has done an adequate job in your stead, Sol. But we cannot let him continue. I know you’ve held him in high regard, but Latham was never fit to lead. You know that.
“He’s too spineless, and the Southern Wilds will be left to the dark whims of those who walk all over him—it’s already happening. Which will not be good for any realm in the end, except maybe Jotunheim. His ego will not allow him to see this.” He paused, waiting for one of them to comment. When they stayed silent, he continued, his attention on Solveig. “The easiest way to ensure you keep your position is to officially challenge him.”
“No,” Solveig said before Conalle had barely finished speaking.
The prince turned to her, his brow raised. “Is your pride too great? Will he defeat you?”
She levelled an icy stare at him. “Do not speak of what you do not know.”
Conalle cut in. “Latham would not beat Solveig. Even if she’s not at full strength, she could beat him with her eyes closed.”
The prince’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Then why is this an issue? We don’t have to be here for this.”
“The queens know this won’t happen,” Conalle said, looking at Solveig again. But she was staring into the distance.
A soft breeze blew her hair across her face, fluttering against her cheek but she made no move to brush it away. Her gaze was on the distant horizon. Her only movement was the deliberate rise and fall of her chest. Conalle reached out to put his hand on her shoulder. She flinched as her eyes returned to the present. Tension coiled her body and ready to strike.
“Solveig,” he said softly.
“No,” she said again. The prince bounced his head between the two.
“It’s the best option,” Conalle tried again.
“It’s not an option. He deserves no such honour.” Venom coated her words, tension still straining her body.
“I know,” Conalle said, resigned.
“Wait, that’s it? You’re accepting that as a valid reason?” the prince asked, appearing stunned. “Conalle, you must be the voice of reason here.”
“Not that it is any of your business,Your Highness”—she spat his title at him like an insult—“but the last time Latham challenged me, he broke the terms of the deal, put himself and our entire legion in danger, and was responsible for my capture. All because of his ego.
“A challenge is a sacred ritual, and he dishonoured that. I no longer trust his vow. Challenging him will mean nothing because he will not honour it. I will not give him the satisfaction of even recognizing his position.”
“Be that as it may, Solveig, he holds sway over the people now,” Conalle said to her.
She raised her voice, some of her control slipping. “Don’t you think I know that?”
“I know you know, Solveig, and that’s why we’re here. We have a plan and it’ll work,” he told her calmly. She inhaled and gestured for him to continue. “This is where you come in,” he said to the prince.
“Finally,” he muttered under his breath. Conalle ignored him.
“Latham has, unfortunately, garnered the respect of some of the Southern Wilds citizens. Given that he has no backbone, he has made a lot of people happy very quickly. He doesn’t understand that this will turn from good to bad at the drop of a pin.
“He has also spent time wooing, for lack of a better word, each of the Fae parties that have come through. And, as you know, the Fae are pretty peacocks who love having their feathers stroked.”
Solveig smirked. “You say that like you’re immune to feather-stroking, Connie.”
“Who, me? Never!” Conalle cried in mock outrage.
“I would hope, feather stroking aside, that our people would choose the logical choice,” the prince said. Solveig raised a brow. “I have only been around for a day and already I know you are more suited to the role. Idavoll will tire quickly of Arlanson,” he told her matter-of-factly. “Plus, you’ll find that my feathers take a lot more than stroking to get ruffled.”
The prince clamped his mouth shut with a snap. Solveig would bet he hadn’t meant it to sound so sexual. Conalle laughed.
“Exactly. That and the fact that you lead the Riddari—the Fae respect you and your opinions. If you throw your support behind Solveig, they are more than likely to side with her, regardless of feather stroking.”
Solveig bristled but didn’t argue.
