“He won’t hide, that much I know.” Reaching into the pocket of her coat, Zarrah withdrew several folded pieces of paper. “These are the letters Lestara sent in correspondence with Petra. They were found in my aunt’s quarters. Proof, in Lestara’s own hand, that she knew exactly what her actions would achieve, as well as a clear statement ofher ambitions to rule. If William were to see these, he might better understand the woman he married.”
Sarhina spread the pages flat, and though she made no visible reaction as she read, Maridrina’s queen seethed with fury. Zarrah’s skin prickled, and she was reminded of an offhand comment Lara had once made that Sarhina was the most dangerous of the Veliant sisters.
Though she’d read the letters many times, Zarrah’s eyes caught on Lestara’s looping script.Maridrinamustbe rid of Keris, Imperial Majesty. Any and all losses that the people suffer will be well worth it, for he is not fit to rule. The people will grow to understand that the short-term costs are worth the long-term gains when I am on the throne, for through my rule, I will right this nation. You and I will be the strongest of allies, for the stars themselves have foretold that to rule is mydestiny.
It was pages and pages of the same, all of it making it very clear that Lestara had cared little who died as long as Keris, whose name she slandered at length, lost the crown. Her obsession with being queen and ruling seemed to permeate the pages themselves, and just touching the paper filled Zarrah with intense unease. With luck, William would feel the same upon reading them and would set Lestara aside. Not a solution to all their woes, but not having a queen who wished vengeance upon Ithicana, Maridrina, and Valcotta alike would go a long way.
Silence stretched through the room. Sarhina quietly rose and poured two drinks, setting one in front of Zarrah, who stared at the amber liquid but didn’t take a sip.
“Ahnna’s choice to murder Edward may have set events in motion, but this is a multifaceted conflict.” Sarhina sipped her drink, staring at a map of both continents and the bridge between them. “I’d say all nations will be drawn into it, but in truth, we’re already involved. We are all connected, in alliance and in enmity, and have been for generations. I think that the revelation of Edward’s connection to Cardiff’s House of Crehan is but the tip of the iceberg. We must show care, else this will spiral into something that dwarfs the Endless War.”
Just then, a knock sounded at the door.
“Yes?” Sarhina called out, and the door swung open.
Daria stepped inside, face shadowed with exhaustion and clothes stained from travel. At the sight of her, Zarrah’s heart lurched into her throat, because her fears had shown her this moment a thousand times.
Bowing low, Daria then straightened and cleared her throat. “Imperial Majesty…”
Zarrah was already on her feet. “Where is my husband? Is Keris all right?”
Daria winced. “He’s fine. At least, he was when I left him in Ithicana.”
“But…?”
“Keris sent me with a message. William has threatened war if Aren doesn’t turn Ahnna over for execution. Which is complicated, because for one, Aren is not convinced of her guilt, and two, Ahnna isn’t in Ithicana. The last information received before I left was that Prince James had pursued her into the Blackreaches.”
Daria was looking everywhere but at Zarrah, and her skin crawled with unease. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“The Harendellians are up to something, but it’s hard to get information. So…”
“So?” Zarrah almost shouted the word, her stomach twisting into ropes. “Spit it out, Daria!”
“So Keris volunteered to be an intermediary.” Daria slowly lifted her head, meeting Zarrah’s gaze. “He’s going to Harendell.”
Where Lestara, the woman who hated him more than anyone else living, now ruled as queen.
“He said he’s sorry.” Daria gave a sharp shake of her head. “The Harendellians aren’t going to let this go. If Ahnna isn’t brought to justice, they’ll come for blood, and Ithicana is in no position to defend against them. Keris is trying to stop a war.”
“I know he is.” And God help her, Zarrah loved him for it. “But Lestara is going to kill him before he has a chance.”
28
Keris
Keris kept his hood upas he entered the tavern, the stench of cheap wine, spilled ale, sweat, vomit, and worse immediately washing over him. Yet rather than feeling disgust, Keris relaxed at the familiar scent of seedy watering holes the world over. He well knew this sort of establishment and its patrons, and the lights were low enough to hide his most defining characteristic.
Buying a glass of wine and wiping the lip marks of a prior customer off its edge with his sleeve, Keris surveyed the patrons—mostly merchants and sailors—until he caught sight of a large figure in a shadowed corner. Walking over, he set his glass down on the table. “Good evening, Your Highness.”
Cormac Crehan, brother of the king of Cardiff, leaned back in his chair. “I was curious whether you would come, Veliant. One whisper says you are a soft creature who sits in libraries and drinks expensive red wine paid for with his wife’s gold. The next whisper says you are a shadow in the night and not to be crossed lest the crosser discover how deeply Silas Veliant runs in your veins.”
“I find the space between whispers is where the truth lies, but I’ll let you be your own judge.” Keris sat across from the older man, then gestured to the medallion depicting a constellation that hung aroundhis neck. “Brave choice. I know the law prohibiting astromancy has been struck, but old habits die hard.”
“We are friends now, Cardiff and Harendell.”
Keris took a sip, winced, and then set the glass aside. “Then why didn’t you knock on the door of Fernleigh House and speak to me there? Alexandra has good taste in wine.”
Cormac shrugged. “Old habits die hard.”
