Shadows in motion.“Nothing more?”
Brant shook his head, eyes still on the lookout. “Message is repeating. I’ll go see if I can find out more from Dary.”
I grunted acknowledgement, scanningthe shadows in question. The bright summer morning left few enough of them, but corners of the courtyard remained filled with deep shade cast by the high walls. I saw nothing unusual—certainly nothing to swing my sword at—but Ursula’s Hawks weren’t given to flights of fancy or false alarms.
With the enemy we faced, formless and born of darkest magics, anything odd could be an attack. Far betterto err on the side of caution. Ursula was right that Annfwn was the apparent focus of Deyrr’s enmity, but Ordnung remained the capital of the Thirteen Kingdoms. Deyrr wanted the heart of magic, but Emperor Hestar would want the High Throne. Because the two had joined forces, anything could happen.
Still, I felt more and more like a fool, seeing nothing strange or alarming, pointing my sword atshadows. We all did, bristling with weapons and anxiety, while the merry sounds of trade and a fine summer morning rang out from the road and township.
A metaphor for my current situation if ever there was one.
“Captain.” Brant returned from conferring with Dary. “Recommend we stand down from high alert but increase eyes on the situation. Dary saw something she can’t explain—like smoke or fogin the shadows—but it hasn’t recurred. She asked me to relay her apologies for a false alarm, which I will, though I don’t think they’re necessary. She’s as sharp-eyed as they come and solid with it.”
“No,” I replied, sheathing my broadsword and rubbing a hand over the back of my neck where the hair prickled with chill foreboding, even as the sun made my skin slick with sweat. “No apologies fora report made in earnest. Call on whoever you need to help watch. Dogs, too.”
“Dary suggested some of the hunting falcons, as they’re good with picking out small movements in bright daylight.”
“Do it.” He saluted and I returned it, then went to report the incident to the woman currently considering kicking me out of her bed—and her life.
When I reached the throne room, Ursula had already convenedcourt and sat on the High Throne. The setup had changed since the early days when I first arrived with my Vervaldr, hired by Ursula’s father to shore up what I quickly understood to be his mad and crumbling grip on power. In those days he’d sat on an iron throne flanked by four others, all empty.
One had been vacant for twelve years, once belonging to Salena, the dead sorceress queen, and theother three to her daughters, all away from Ordnung for various reasons. I’d thought I’d grown open-minded since leaving Dasnaria, but I’d been astonished to learn Uorsin’s heir was his eldest daughter, an unmarried woman.
When she returned home, striding down the center aisle of court, covered in road dust, eyes steely with resolve, and proceeded to engage in a battle of wits with her father…well, I’d understood. And fallen hard.
Unlike Ursula that day, I didn’t approach the High Throne down the center aisle, but took the long way around the assembled courtiers, keeping to the shadows in my own way, I supposed. It bothered Ursula far more than it did me that I had no official place in her court. As the youngest of seven legitimate sons born to my father, I’d been a prince in theImperial Palace, sure, but one largely ignored in favor of those with a far greater chance of becoming emperor. When I’d been a boy that had rankled.
Discovering the kind of lives my sisters led had given me sorely needed perspective on just how fortunate I’d been.
When I reached my usual post at the side and foot of Ursula’s throne, she gave me a narrow glance from the side of her flinty eyes.“I didn’t expect you here,” she murmured.
“It’s where I belong,” I replied simply, repeating a truth I’d had to drum into her thick skull. Folding my arms, I settled into the relaxed stance I could maintain for hours—and often did when court dragged on for a ridiculously long time. So determined not to repeat her father’s mistakes, Ursula rarely cut off the petitions when any rational personwould. Another consequence of her being away from Ordnung for so long—the business of the kingdoms, major and ridiculously minor, had piled up. The King of Carienne, Groningen, had handled a great deal of it as regent in her absence, but many people held onto their petitions, awaiting the return of the High Queen, certain they merited her personal attention.
In my opinion, very few of their urgentrequests truly rose to that level. But that was another difference between my homeland and this realm. In Dasnaria, His Imperial Majesty the Emperor would never trouble himself with such trivia. He relied on his nobility to govern, which inevitably led to corruption and abuse of power.
Surely there had to be a middle ground between the two extremes.
Ursula delivered her decision on the currentquestion. While Shua—the cleric who’d taken on Dafne’s role—shuffled documents and prepared to call the next petitioner, Ursula flicked another glance at me. “What’s wrong?” she wanted to know.
When I gave her a placid, questioning look, she made an impatient sound and gestured me to approach. “I know the difference between you being pissed at me and there being something of concern. Tell mewhat happened.”
