Nevah shoots me a tight, conciliatory smile. “You’ll get there.”
“Speaking of,” Tomison jumps in. “Did anyone else notice the pack powers acting a little… funny today?”
Izabel and Nevah look reflective. Venna nods. “It was easier to rift than usual. I wasn’t sure if it was just adrenaline or something, or all the time I’ve spent practicing?”
“One of the Daemos riders sent a blast of power toward me and Iz, and it almost looked like it rebounded on him somehow,” I add. “He was knocked off his wolf. I don’t know, maybe it’s the power of the crown, amplifying and changing Bonded magic or something?”
There’s an awkward pause, and I don’t think I’m the only one remembering just how many people were killed at once by myownincreased powers. I clear my throat. “Look, I need to talk to you all about something.”
Tomison gives me a playful salute. “Yes, oh, queen?”
“Goddess, shut up,” I grumble, but it makes me smile.
They’re still treating me likeme, and it only reaffirms my decision to raise this with them. Does that erase my nervousness? Not entirely.
“Listen, most of the former Rawbonds will ship out to the front tomorrow.”Out with it.“But I’d like the four of you to stay with me. At the castle. If you’re willing.”
They’re all silent, eyes wide.
The word vomit lurches up my throat. “You don’t have to. This isn’t an order. But I really need friends I can trust around me right now. Desperately, actually. And I trust you four with everything I—”
“Yes,” Izabel says. “We wouldn’t leave you to deal with all this royal bullshit alone.” What an Izabel way to put it.
“Obviously, yes,” Tomison adds.
Nevah nods. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
Venna doesn’t have an immediate answer, but even still, my shoulders relax. “Oh good. I apparently have a group of advisors called the Council Palast that I’m supposed to fill. King Cyril staffed it with his relatives, so I thought perhaps you all could help me—at least as interim support, for now, until we find proper advisors.”
“Sounds highly important,” Izabel says. “Do tell, what kind of advising will you require?” She lifts her glass of emberwine, taking a large sip.
“Well, apparently one of the Council’s duties is arranging castle events and ceremonies.”
Izabel chokes on her drink. “Excuse me,party planning? You’re keeping us back from the front to plan parties? Having a queen for a friend really fucking rocks.”
Tomison and Nevah laugh, and my gaze drifts to Venna, who has been glaringly silent this entire time. She’s watching each of our faces as we talk, her expression unreadable.
“Ven?” I ask, knocking my shoulder into hers. “What are you thinking?”
She turns toward me and smiles faintly. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’ll be great, Meryn. I’ve been meaning to ask you, though, how’s Saela?”
Her concern slams into me. My jaw tightens. I don’t know how to answer her, but of course she’d ask. She helped Stark rescue Saela from the dungeons.
The truth is overwhelming. And worse, it’s dangerous.
I trust my friends, but Saela’s current state is sensitive information.
If the knowledge that my sister is a Siphon got out, even accidentally, it could put her life in danger. People would call for her head, not to mention the damage it would do to my reputation as a queen standing inoppositionto the Siphons, to Killian.
I hesitate, feeling shaky. “Saela is resting, and it will probably be a while until she’s ready to be around people. The… trauma of her captivity affected her, and she needs time to recover.” I hope that didn’t sound too calculated.
Venna winces. “I’m sorry. Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”
“Whatever you need,” Nevah chimes in. And all I can do is nod.
The mood is dampened after that, and I’m not even surprised when Tomison—usually the one to keep a party going—says, “It’s getting late. We should probably let our regent here get her beauty sleep.”
We all hug goodbye, but as everyone is making their way out the door, I grab Venna’s elbow and hold her back. When she’s turned to fully face me, I ask, “Can we talk alone for a minute?”
