Two of the soldiers standing next to the councilor took a half step forward.
Meena’s frantic fingers tapped faster. “Bring me one,” she called to Erich, keeping her voice light. Keeping the forced smile on her face, she bit her tongue so she wouldn’t say anything further. It was little wonder the king of Chendas had wanted to murder her brother. She rather felt like doing so herself.
Erich took a bite of the sweetmeat as he stood back up. He groaned as he chewed it. “The best I’ve ever had. Send my dear friend Gareth my thanks.”
The two Chendas soldiers relaxed back into the place beside the councilor as Erich turned back to his seat.
Her brother was a nincompoop. No one else would have the spite to dangle their existence in front of the enemy who wanted them dead.
Sitting beside her, Erich handed Meena a pretty little morsel of dried fruits dusted in sugar.
She smiled her thanks as she accepted it, shooting a glare at Erich that he appeared not to notice.
“As a sign of his goodwill,” Younn repeated the last thing he had said, then stopped.
Meena barely caught the sly wink Erich sent her way. He’d successfully distracted the councilor from King Frederich’s growing anger.
“As another token of his goodwill,” the councilor corrected himself. “My king has offered Iseldis his close and personal attention. As we speak, squadrons of his own soldiers are making their way to the coast, ready and prepared to defend you against should the need arise.”
Meena absently raised the sweetmeat to her lips, taking her cue from Erich to remain as unconcerned as possible to continue toying with Younn.
“And if I did not wish for Gareth’s aid in the defense of my kingdom?” King Frederich asked. His words were crisp but controlled.
The councilor dipped his head in acknowledgment. “My king would take personal offense at your refusal of his offer of reconciliation.”
Meena choked on the bite in her mouth. She coughed loudly into her hand, attempting to clear her airway. The councilor was threatening to make them prisoners in their own kingdom, but her mind could not even fathom the thought as she coughed.
Erich jumped from his seat and started to pound her back.
Meena sputtered loudly as the morsel dislodged and continued peacefully down her throat. She heaved in great gulps of air, pushing Erich’s fist away.
“Princess?” the councilor asked, concern lacing his loud voice.
“I am well.” Meena held up a hand to stop his questions, keeping her face turned down. She wasn’t ready to look at the room yet. She’d just made an absolute fool of herself in front of countless strangers. “I was enjoying it so much I ate it too quickly.”
“Would you like another?” Younn asked.
“No!” Meena put a hand on her chest, forcing a cough to undermine the strength of her rebuke. “Please, carry on.”
King Frederich sent a shrewd look to Meena.
She smiled weakly. He probably thought she’d faked the choking, but she couldn’t explain to him here and now that it was real. Although, she couldn’t deny it had been excellent timing to draw everyone’s attention her way while her father processed the threat.
“What other signs of goodwill does Gareth wish to bestow?” Frederich asked.
“Getting greedy now, your majesty?” The councilor’s smile made even Meena angry. “I jest, I jest.” He held up a placating hand. “My king has three other offerings. The soldiers you see here have been gifted to you for defense of the castle, as well as my humble self.” He bowed. Again. “I will aid you with my knowledge to the best of my ability.”
Meena struggled to breathe, although she couldn’t tell if it was from the fear which gripped her heart or the scratching feeling in her throat. It would be difficult to get Sol out of the castle with their new guests.
“What an honor,” King Frederich replied through clenched teeth. His hands gripped the arms of his chair. His white knuckles contrasted with the growing red that covered his face.
“Finally,” the councilor continued. “King Gareth will personally oversee all incoming and outbound ships of trade, so that you can focus solely on the needs of your people during this difficult season.”
If Gareth controlled the outbound ships, Sol would never make it to Falqri. And they would have no hope of destroying the store of magic.
King Frederich stood slowly. From his place on the dais, he was the tallest man in the room and even the councilor had to lean his head back to see up at him. “I will not be made a prisoner in my own castle.” He spoke slowly, a burning rage fueled every word.
Meena had never heard him so angry before. Ever.
