A beat passes.
“I just—” I swallow, my voice catching. “I’m pretty sure the tsar was sending a message when he let my uncle go. But if he can’t remember anything, we’ll never know what the message was.”
“It’s possible your unclewasthe message. Not what he said. Not what he remembers. But what his condition implied.” He straightens. “It seems the tsar knows you. Knows your heart. He didn’t need to send words.”
Unless he really is my father and he meant for my uncle to deliver the truth. For what, I can’t be sure. To convince me to join him? To scareme?
A chill races down my spine that has nothing to do with the rain outside. I get the message now. The tsar is willing to hurt the people I love if I don’t comply.
ChApter
Eleven
The great dining hall is already alive with quiet murmurs and the soft clink of silverware when Nadya and I enter. The vaulted ceilings stretch high above, and golden sunlight spills through the arched windows, casting long, slanted beams across the grand oak table where the king and queen sit at its head. Chandeliers glisten overhead, catching the light in tiny prisms.
Despite the lavish spread of eggs, sausages, fresh-baked breads, and an assortment of fruit laid across the table, the air is stiff with formality. Servants move soundlessly, refilling goblets and setting out steaming plates, their heads bowed.
Though the feast smells tantalizing, eating is not my priority this morning. I need to speak with the king, and I already know he’s not going to like what I have to say.
Dante sits at the table, across from his father. But because we’re not supposed to interact with one another, he gives me nothing more than a subtle nod, which I return. They are the same subtle nods we’ve exchanged for every morning and evening meal, and the only reason I can tolerate it is because of our secret, nightly plans to gaze at each other from our balconies. Plans that rarely work out.
Still, I take in his appearance, as if committing it to memory for my dreams. His dark hair is not as neatly combed as it was during the funeral, the soft waves askew, as if he’d recently raked his fingers through them. Instead of the crisp finery of court, he wears a simple black tunic, the laces on the front undone enough that the top of his chest is on display. I try not to stare as I take my seat.
King Silas does not bother masking his discontent as he dabs his mouth with a linen napkin, then tosses it onto his plate. “How nice of you to join us, Celeste.”
Even though she wasn’t addressed, Nadya speaks up from beside me, her voice careful but firm. “Of course. It would be a shame if Her Majesty’s fine breakfast went to waste.”
The queen shifts slightly at the mention, her gloved hands straightening the silverware beside her plate as if she were trying to line up everything perfectly. Though her features are as carefully composed as ever, I don’t miss the tightness in her brow or the way her gaze lingers on her untouched plate.
“I’m glad I was able to catch you before you left the meal, Your Majesty,” I say to the king, keeping my voice strong but cordial. “My uncle has finally recovered from his illness.”
“Praise the gods,” Queen Eleanor says quietly.
“Yes, praise the gods,” I say, nodding. “He is urgent to return to Delasurvia, to return to his duties. He would like to go back the day after tomorrow. And I would like to ask your permission to accompany him back home to ensure his safe return.”
The king’s gaze sharpens on me. “You ask much, Princess.” His voice is calm, but the undertone cuts like glass. “Surely, your uncle needs time to get back on his feet.”
“His people need to see that he is alive. That he’s recovering. It will settle them. Strengthen them. You told the courts that Delasurvia now falls under your protection. So let me do what I must to ensure the people’s confidence in that unity remains intact.”
Silas’s mouth tightens. “You’ve only just returned from one unsanctioned ride. Am I to believe that you won’t go chasing anotherfight? You have a history of succumbing to your whims.”
“I believed coming to you first would show that my request is in good faith.” I hold my chin up. “I thought you’d appreciate the fact that I’m asking permission rather than leaving of my own accord. And since you’ve forbidden me from joining my squad for any more missions, it’s my duty to assign the interim ranks of my squad, hand the reins over to my lieutenant and promote my first sergeant.”
“I’m certain your uncle could deliver the message for you.”
“He’s been absent for too long to be abreast of the current situation. And it’s protocol for the commanding officer to pass the baton personally.”
He sighs. “Could you not simply send a nightfeather?”
“Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but even you wouldn’t deliver classified regiment instructions by messenger birds. There’s too much risk that the confidential information could be intercepted.” I force myself not to smirk, but I know he can’t argue with my point. “There’s protocol to uphold. The regiment should witness me handing over the reins of commander to my lieutenant, and because my first sergeant has gone above and beyond in her duties, she deserves to be appointed as the new lieutenant in person.”
His brow furrows. “Another woman in a lead role? Do you not have enough proper men to carry out your cause?”
I want to spit back in his face, but I simply hold my jaw rigid. “I vow to be swift with this undertaking and return before you leave for the presentation tour. That way, you can be assured that I’ll be under lock and key while you are away.”
I see the flicker in his expression. Annoyance, perhaps. Or something colder. The king studies me a moment longer before reclining slightly in his chair, drumming his fingers against the tabletop. “Actually, I’ve had a change of mind. Things are moving more quickly than I originally planned. We’ve received prompt responses from most of the other kingdoms, and the presentation tour can begin in two weeks’ time.”
I blink, looking between him and Dante. Dante’s expression tellsme this is news to him. Even the queen looks up, obviously unaware of this change.
