My heart panged. “Razel will come for Trendell eventually,” I said quietly. “The only way to stop her is to defeat her armies or destroy her.”
“You mean kill her.” It wasn’t a question.
I gritted my teeth, my body humming with heat and fury, with memories of crows and people screaming, of the acrid smell of burning flesh and the bite of fire sharp as steel. Of Estrel looking like a ghost of herself, second-guessing every decision.
After everything Razel had done, she deserved it. After everything she’d done, she deserved so much worse.
“Is that truly what you want?” Auma asked.
I don’t know.I swallowed the words. “Yes. It’s the only way to win peace.”
She pressed a finger to my chest, just below my collarbone. My heart thudded against it as if trying to beat away her touch. “Even your very heart is armed. It must have peace before you can expect to bring it to others.”
She withdrew her hand, but my heart kept pounding.
Seventeen
A heavy silence followed our small group through halls bright with morning light. I’d woken early to wash and oil my flying leathers, running over words in my head that I still hadn’t settled on, even as we approached the throne room. Though with Res following a step behind and Kiva on one side and Caylus on the other, the daunting task of the looming alliance meeting didn’t feel quite as impossible.
Except Estrel wasn’t here.
We waited for her outside the throne room. Everyone else was already inside, and my anxiety rose at the steady murmur of voices.
“I’m sure she’s just running late,” I said to Kiva’s skeptical look, even as an image of the withdrawn, indecisive Estrel I’d seen last night flashed through my mind. She wouldn’t leave me to do this on my own…would she?
As the time of the alliance meeting came and went and Estrel still hadn’t arrived, I had no choice but to accept she wasn’t coming.
Silencing the emotions that came with the knowledge that she had abandoned me again, I faced the throne room, determined.
“You can do this,” Caylus said.
“We’re here for you,” Kiva added.
Res trilled softly in agreement.
I took a breath and stepped inside.
Instead of walls, rows of columned arches surrounded the perimeter, easily large enough for two full-grown crows to pass through abreast and guarded each by a monk. A domed ceiling, painted with amber foxes winding through colorful flowering vines, rose far above our heads.
Queen Luhara and King Galren Rebane sat on plush cushions on a raised dais ahead of us, a circle of similar cushions set in a ring before them. Most of them were already occupied, some by the crown prince and princess and others by the council. One seat remained empty in honor of Kuren. Elkona sat to the side, Samra beside her.
A hushed muttering broke out as we entered, all eyes finding Res. We approached a section of open cushions, each of us bowing in turn to the king and queen before we took our seats. One remained empty. I refused to look at it.
“Welcome, Princess Anthia,” said Queen Luhara. “We’re glad you’ve arrived in Eselin safely.” She wore her dark, spiraling curls gathered atop her head, framing a serene, friendly face. Especially compared to the quiet, stony expression of her husband, who simply nodded in greeting.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I replied. I knew little about Kuren’s parents. Every free moment, I’d spent furthering my training to be a rider, neglecting things Caliza could recite in her sleep. Not for the first time, I wished I’d paid more attention in our lessons.
“We’re here today to discuss an alliance between the kingdoms of Rhodaire, Trendell, Jindae, and the Ambriel Islands,” the queen continued, her voice soft but firm. Her dark gaze scanned the crowd as she spoke, addressing everyone equally. “Everyone who wishes it will be given an opportunity to speak, but we’d like to begin by hearing from Princess Anthia.”
Queen Luhara nodded to me, and my heart fluttered. She was yielding the floor. Which meant I needed to stand up and talk.
Saints.I swallowed hard, standing. Caliza had given me a few pointers on the formalities: stay in front of your cushion, don’t talk directly to one person but rather address everyone, speak slowly and clearly.
Faced with so many expectant eyes and such great stakes, every last piece of advice fled my mind.
Caliza should be here, not me. This was what she did, what she excelled at. The only words I was good with were the sharp, sarcastic kind. I didn’t have Samra’s surety and control, Caliza’s tact and knowledge, Estrel’s strength and experience, or even Ericen’s commanding presence.
I had a half-baked plan, a nearly grown crow, and part of a room that hated me, judging by Elkona’s burning gaze and Samra’s dark skepticism.
