I grunted my agreement, and so did Nicolas. Amari just stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. She raised her eyebrows at him as she waited for a response.
“I don’t like you.”
Samara snorted and dropped back into her chair. “You don’t have to like me, but I do expect you to respect me. If you respect me, I’ll respect you and allow you to stay in my castle.”
I said nothing. What was there to say?
This certainly put a wrench in the plans, but she at least wasn’t a threat that needed to be eliminated. The squirrel, though…
We sat in rigid silence until the other council members arrived. The chair beside me remained empty, as expected.
“Where’s Winston?” I feigned concern.
“The raven returned with the message still tied to its foot,” Nathaniel, the falcon, explained. “I sent a scout, and Shadowmere was completely empty. They just up and left everything there. Food on the table, doors open, money in the tills for anyone to come along and take.”
Everyone started talking at once, and I furrowed my brows, considering the implications. A search party, yes, but the entire village? That was concerning and unexpected.
“Perhaps they were Lilith supporters who fled once news of her death reached them.”
“They didn’t support Lilith, you know that. Do you think she did something to them?”
Speculation continued to swirl among the other demons, and my fingers twitched against my thighs, itching to steer the conversation where I needed it to go.
“We can’t make any decisions until Winston arrives.” I looked around the table, scanning the council members’ faces one by one.
I settled back in my chair, careful to maintain just the right amount of concern. Too much eagerness would betray me as surely as a confession.
“According to our bylaws, if a council member can’t be found within five days of a meeting being called, we can vote without them.” Edmund sounded bored and not the least bit concerned about Winston.
“We need to send a search team to the village.” Samara might have been at the head of the table and speaking firmly, but no one acknowledged her except me.
“Nathaniel has attempted contact already. We should send a search party.” Seth, the bear shifter, glanced down his nose at Samara.
She let out a small sigh and sat back in her chair. It must have been frustrating for her to be ignored. “I’ll go look for them.”
Nicolas made a grunting sound from behind her but didn’t say a word.
Edmund laughed, and several other council members joined in. “You?”
“If word spreads that an entire village has disappeared, do you have any idea what will happen?” Samara leaned forward. “Especially with an open council seat. Villageswithout representation, including the nomads, will fight for that position. Is that what you want?”
This was exactly the reason why there needed to be a king in place—someone ruthless who would keep the masses from rioting. With Lilith gone and Reve basically denouncing the throne, there were very few powerful enough to take the helm.
“She’s right.” My agreement drew surprised looks. “There’s already talk in some villages about wanting to dissolve the council entirely since it was useless during Lilith’s reign.”
Edmund scoffed, glaring at me. “You can go with her.”
The idea of going to Shadowmere held little appeal. I knew we wouldn’t find Winston, but the missing villagers gave me pause. The village was deep in the forest, and the likelihood of encountering demons who gave our kind a bad name was high.
“I’ll go with her.” I had little choice, seeing as I was partly the cause of needing a search party, and I couldn’t trust the squirrel to protect her.
“And while you’re gone, we’ll move into the castle since you’ve already done so.” Edmund rubbed his chin with a smirk.
Samara stood abruptly, slapping her palms on the table. “Absolutely not. That would require a council decision, and the entire council is not here.”
“Then I guess you should pack your bags because this is the king’s home, and you are no king.” Edmund bared his fangs, and I had to dig my nails into my palms to stop myself from lunging across the table and ripping out his throat.
In my mind, I could already see his smug face contorted in shock as I tore through sinew and cartilage. Edmund had always been too comfortable with his disrespect.
