“I would hazard that he’s intimidated. We know Filusia has a new king, one with closer ties to the princess. Caledon may have the royal armies at his command thanks to Queen Oclanna, but he wants a holy army to supplement it in case the Filusians join the fight.” Corrin and I exchange a look at his words, and Sophos must catch it, because he pauses. “Unless, of course, the royal armies won’t be under the Grand Bearer’s control much longer.”
I hesitate, cursing what Corrin once pointed out as my lack of poker face.
Sophos nods anyway, like he understands everything. “So, the princess is going to challenge the queen.”
Corrin subtly presses a hand to the small of my back, urging me on. He knows trusting Sophos is a leap, but it’s one we have to take. He’s too useful to hold at arm’s length.
“We have contacts setting things up for the challenge in Elmere right now,” I say, keeping my response vague.
Sophos considers this, and I can see the cogs turning in his mind.
“In that case,” he says, “maybe there’s another way I can help your cause.”
Chapter 24
Morgana
Istare down at the dress lying across the bed. It’s a deep red with a dropped waist and long sleeves, the neckline draped with delicate pearls. It’s pretty without being frivolous, striking without being showy. It’s a dress fit for a queen.
It’s strange to shed my tunic and shirt after a solid month of wearing nothing else. I’ve slept and traveled and fought for my life in these clothes, but now I’m supposed to leave all that behind. If all goes to plan, I won’t be a rebel or a fugitive anymore. The rogue princess will be gone, replaced by Trova’s rightful queen.
Phaia sourced the dress for me from one of Elmere’s finest dressmakers. I’d argued with her about it being totally impractical to issue a challenge in. She pointed out that I might technically win the throne by beating Oclanna in a fight, but I still had to convince the rest of the court I was monarch material. That meant turning up to the palace looking the part.
I sense Leon coming to the door just as I finish fastening the dress. He stops in the doorway, taking me in.
“I’d say you look beautiful, but the word doesn’t do you justice,”he says.
I feel my cheeks color. He steps forward, lifting a hand to cradle my jaw, examining the flush on my face. I can tell through the mooring how much he likes that blush, and his attraction ignites mine. I close the gap between us, wrapping my arms around his neck so I can pull him downward for a deep, satisfying kiss.
A rumble of pleasure vibrates in his throat.
“I’m suddenly wishing there wasn’t quite so much material between us,”he says, his hand tangling in my skirts.
“You could always just rip it off me?”I suggest hopefully.
He chuckles. “Later, when it’s served its purpose.”
I pout, guiding his hand up under my skirts, but I’m thrown when he laughs.
“Are you wearing pants under this thing?”
I freeze. “I forgot,” I admit, and he gives me a knowing smile.
“Now I see how Phaia convinced you to wear it.”
“She made some adjustments at my request,” I say. “It’s more versatile now. But apparently not suitable foreveryactivity.”
He grins, letting his voice drop low. “When you’re Queen of Trova, my love, then I’ll give you whatever you want. Until then…” he pauses, listening to something. “Hyllus says we should go downstairs. Some friends of ours have just arrived.”
We’ve not even taken two steps out the bedroom door when I hear the shouting.
“I’ll kill him! I’ll fucking kill him!”
It’s Tira’s voice. We rush downstairs to see Corrin and Damia standing in front of the door to the kitchen, blocking Tira, who’s currently being restrained by Hyllus.
“Hyllus!” she shouts as she struggles against his hold. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t let go of meright now.”
Given their relative sizes, this demand should seem ridiculous, but no one’s laughing. There’s too much raw fury in her voice.
