“Odd to pay respect?” Mr. Adeline replied.
Yosif said, “This could prove a sign the union should not be upheld.”
“You can’t be serious,” the Prince said. “A madman burns a horse, and you cry sign?”
“I-I will replace your team,” I told the farmer. “How large was it?”
His face twisted with the suggestion. “You’llreplacemy… my?”
“Yes, of course,” I promised him. “I’m sorry for your loss. More sorry that it happened on my behalf.”
“Sit down, Your Highness,” the King said. “It’s not as though we hadn’t expected this.” He and Sam shared a look. “Traditions run deep in Chalke.”
“Traditions?” I begged. “Of burning horses?”
Sam explained. “There have beencomplaintsof your impending arrival. Of your reigning here. Some bannermen do not wish to support a queen.”
“You’vehadqueens,” I said.
“Queens, yes,” Yosif said. “Consorts. Women always behind their man; the man has been the Head of the House. We’ve never invited an outsider, of course.”
I looked at Sam. He stayed silent.
“An outsider,” I repeated. “I see. And you agree with this?” I asked him. “This is how you see me?”
He took too long to reply, and I was angry. I was embarrassed.
Mr. Adeline said, “No one here considers you an outsider. Right, Your Majesty?”
He passively nodded.
“I see. Well,unfortunatelyfor the lot of you, your traditions have failed you,” I said.“Oreiawon the war, a nation whose heir needs no man, but Crown offers her hand in exchange for peace. Yet, you discredit it.”
“No one is discrediting you, Your Highness,” the King said.
“Aren’t you, though?” I asked. They were quiet. “The only person who’s spoken up for me is Mr. Adeline.”
Adeline bowed his head.
“Your bandits and bannermen will have to make peace with their Queen, or, I don’t know, perhaps fight harder in the next war,” I said. “I’ll let them decide.”
Sam laughed but tried to cover it with a cough. I ached at his silence.
“The next war?” Yosif said. “Are you threatening it?”
Nausea passed over me from the corpse. I gestured to it. “No, sir. You threaten yourselves.”
He shifted in his chair. “How dare you speak to me this way–”
“No,” I argued. “How dareyouspeak to me at all. You arenotmy equal, and you will do well to remember that, Archbishop.”
My chest seized with the comment. I felt a fire burn inside my core.
“Simmer down, each of you,” the King ordered. I glared at him. “There will be no war, Your Highness. I will speak to my banners again when I have time. I did not address it because I did not see it as an issue.”
“You’ll do it this week,” I said.
He cocked his head but then bent it into agreement. “Aye. I’ll do it this week,” he said.
