“No—I—” I swear and break off. OfcourseAlek would arrive at exactly this moment. “Grey, I don’t know what he’s doing. But I’m not keeping any secrets. I’ve never been disloyal.” The words almost hurt to say.
“Good.” He rises from the table. “Come along. Let’s see.”
CHAPTER 35
TYCHO
I’m not one for murderous thoughts, but for Alek, I’m making an exception. I’m wishing I hadn’t left my bow with Jax, because I long to nock an arrow on the string and let it fly. I imagine Alek flailing on the floor of the throne room, writhing as he tries to pull a shaft free of his chest. His blue eyes would be clouded with pain and anger, and he’d be trying to swear at me, but the arrow would’ve punctured his lung.
I bet you’d accept a bit of magic now, wouldn’t you, I’d say.
Much like Grey’s barely restrained temper wasn’t all aboutme, mine isn’t all about Alek.
But some of it is.
I should probably join Jake by the side of the dais, but I’m still smarting from Grey’s comments, and I don’t need to be chastised again. Instead, I linger by the wall a bit apart from everyone. Alek stands in the middle of the throne room, dressed for travel, armed for battle. His expression is troubled and wary, but he bows respectfully when thequeen gestures for him to come forward. “Your Majesty,” he says. “I hoped to speak with you alone.”
Lia Mara is resplendent on her throne, wearing glistening red robes with a black satin belt, her hair long and shining over her shoulder. There’s no hint of distress or dismay about her expression, but she takes Grey’s hand and holds it when he joins her on the dais. His thumb strokes over her knuckles slowly, and just that tiny movement steals some of my agitated worry. Their pain is invisible, but it seems to radiate throughout this entire room.
“We issued a summons weeks ago,” Lia Mara says evenly. “If you wished to speak with me alone, Lord Alek, you’ve had ample opportunity. Now you will address my court and explain yourself.”
“I sent word—”
“You attacked the King’s Courier. You assaulted a member of this court.”
“I defended myself, Your Majesty.” His voice is just as even as hers is. “As is my right. If the king has seen fit to grantmagicto those in his circle, you should be aware when those powers are abused.”
I was defending myself, too. I want to speak so badly that my fingertips are digging into my palms.
“Tycho doesn’t abuse his power,” says Grey.
“How do you know?” says Alek. “Have you asked him?”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from speaking.
“Do not question me,” Grey says coolly. “You were summoned here to answer for whatyoudid.”
“Ihaveanswered for what I did,” Alek says. “Tycho should be forced to answer forhisactions.” He pauses, gazing around the room dramatically. “Did I injure him so badly that he cannot speak for himself?” His eyes land on me, and they’re ice cold.
I’m sure mine match.
“No,” Alek continues frostily. “He’s right there. He bears the magic to heal himself, so these claims ofassaultseem rather frivolous to me.” He pauses, his eyes finding mine again. “Would you like for me to do it again, and we can all have a demonstration?”
I have never wished for a sword and dagger as much as I do this very moment. “Go ahead and try,” I say darkly. “We shall see how it ends.”
He draws blades. “Gladly.”
“Hold.” Lia Mara’s voice is clear and sharp over the sudden murmur that echoes through the throne room. “I will not abide bloodshed in my court.”
Alek’s gaze hasn’t left mine. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my hand clenches near the hilt of a sword that’s not there.
Danger sparks in his eyes as he says, “The old queen would not have minded a bit of sport.”
“I am not my mother,” Lia Mara snaps, “and you would do well to remember that, Lord Alek. Now put up your weapons.”
He slides his sword and dagger into their sheaths as quickly and smoothly as he drew them, then bows again with perfect gallantry. “As you say, Your Majesty.”
The court falls silent again—or maybe the rush of my pulse is blocking any sound. I force myself to look away from Alek, to see how this interaction is being received. As always, there are many people here who don’t trust the king, just like Alek. There are many people who love the queen—just not the man at her side. It wasn’t different four years ago, when we first came to Syhl Shallow. But in the months since the Uprising, this feeling has grown darker, more insidious. A dagger in a shadowed corner instead of open rebellion.
