‘And you believe that someone should be Ernesto Tivala?’ I let icy amusement slip into my voice. ‘Your ignorance is truly poetic, my lord.’ I rested my hip against the table between two nobles, allowing the side of my cloak to fall back in a theatrical gesture. My arsenal of poisons and fang-bladed dagger glinted in the sun’s rays, catching their attention. ‘Let me be very clear. The only ones to oversee these proceedings are the king or the regent he appointed. Not you, not Lord Tivala, not even the thunder god, Perun. Is that clear, my lord, or do you also wish me to remove my mask?’
‘Guards!’ the man called, flinching back in fear. The royal guards looked at Riordan, holding their positions when he shook his head.
‘I don’t want your fear, my lord,’ I said, his eyes darting around when the guards didn’t come to his aid. ‘I want your understanding.’
Now that I had everyone’s attention, I pulled a piece of srebrec from my pouch, rolling it across the table. ‘That’s why your king is on the front lines. This isn’t a simple border squabble with the dwarven kingdom. And it’s not something the Lord Marshal can face alone.’
Several nobles, mostly those from military families, leaned forward, the eldest staring at me like a hawk. ‘What’s going on, and why was the information hidden from us?’ He asked, and I inclined my head.
‘Hidden, my lord?’ I focused on the elder statesman, gauging his reaction. ‘That’s simple. We didn’t know which direction thethreat came from, but we can name it now.’ He nodded for me to continue. ‘Have you heard of an artefact called a void cube? A weapon that freezes everyone who encounters it, siphons the very essence of your being and drains all magic from the area in which it’s deployed?’
‘What nonsense are you spouting? It’s just srebrec,’ Niemir said, leaning away from the dangerous ore.
‘Let her talk,’ the old noble said, hammering his fist on the table. ‘I want the truth, Shadow. I knew this fucking war wasn’t just a border dispute.’
‘Lord Niemir is right. This sample is a srebrec alloy. A small piece of the artefact that decimated an entire village…’ I walked around the table until I stood across from the old noble. ‘It almost erased the university, and I witnessed the damage it inflicted… until the ice wraiths forced me to flee.’
Riordan used the sudden silence to step in. ‘Bringing in Duke Tivala and his southern army won’t solve your problems. Your only hope is King Reynard and those around him already working on the issue. This matter is of such importance that I need a decision immediately. Shall we vote on it now?’
It was a risky move, but the council’s reactions told me Riordan had carefully calculated the odds. Suddenly, someone coughed at the end of the table, and I recognised a person from the list I’d given the Brotherhood.
‘You can’t… The king… Tangra…’ The man started choking. The spell I’d cast on the poison activated as the noble ignored my warning about speaking against the king.
‘Some people never learn. The gods punish those too stupid to listen,’ I said coldly. I walked towards him as I wove the sigils of a particularly dramatic illusion. Chairs scraped against the floor as every noble backed away. The man trying to speak against the king stared at me with terror-filled eyes. I waited until his face turned grey before I reached for his hand, yanking his sleeve upand drawing a simple healing rune on his bare skin, siphoning the poison from his blood.
‘You’re a mage!’ Niemir said, and the sour smell of his fear made me wince.
‘I’m the king’s shadow, so think carefully before using his absence to play your little games.’ I turned towards the members of the council, who instinctively pulled away. ‘Now vote, please.’
Yaran’s smile, cold and calculating, sent chills down my spine. He pushed a piece of paper towards the man beside him, who paled, his gaze darting between the marquess and me. I scowled furiously behind the mask, worrying that I’d missed something despite my preparations.
I wasn’t mistaken. Yaran glared at me, silent as the grave, his lips sealed by my spell, but the man next to him was untouched by my poison. His name wasn’t on Riordan’s list, and I frowned as he stood up from the table.
‘Will one woman decide the fate of the country? What if she’s conspiring with the regent? After all, why would the king object to receiving help from a man whose family is already bound to him by marriage?’
Riordan’s stone-cold expression told me everything I needed to know. We were losing them, and with the high lords’ armed bodyguards in the council room, the situation could turn precarious in the blink of an eye.
Yaran swirled his finger around the glass rim, the smirk still glued to his lips.
‘A contract? Do you know something I don’t, my lord?’ Riordan asked, a threat weaving through his voice. ‘I’ve heard no announcements. No bridal gifts have been exchanged, yet you claim to be privy to a secret hidden from His Majesty’s regent?’
‘It’s all because he’s infatuated with that damn commoner! We all know he visits her. The whore who frequents his quarters.’The accusatory tone of his voice caused murmurs to ripple across the room.
Riordan sighed, shaking his head as if he were answering a toddler who asked too many silly questions. ‘Reynard Erenhart is a man of honour, and contrary to you, he would not cheat on his wife or betrothed. The fact he keeps a low-born mistress is proof that no marriage contract was exchanged and therefore none of the council’s business.’
Several men, especially those loyal to the king, burst out laughing, and I had to congratulate Riordan on finding the perfect diversion.
Perfect, yes… but also painful in its simple truth.
For those gathered at this table, I could only be one thing: the king’s mistress, a woman clad in ridicule and disdain, shoved aside when the queen arrives.Even if he loves me enough to keep me by his side, I’ll be nothing but a burden. Is that what I want to be?
I took a deep, calming breath, my fist tightening as I steadied myself, focusing on the problem at hand. The issue, though, wasn’t the young noble who, like an obedient little sheep, bleated what his patron told him. The problem was Yaran, still defiant, still outsmarting my spell.
‘Lord Yaran, you’re strangely quiet. Don’t you have anything to add after your vassal expressed such a strong opinion?’ I asked, approaching him. His throat bobbed, then again. His silence drew the attention of his gathered peers.
‘I…’ he said, but couldn’t finish the sentence. ‘Who are you to question me, woman?’
‘She is the king’s loyal subject, appointed by his hand. Now answer her,’ Riordan said coldly before I spoke again.
