“Everything about this is a problem.” The Queen Mother’s regal countenance was fraying, frustration sharply clipping each word. “It is well past daylight. And yet the guards have found nothing.”
The princess they had pronounced presumed dead was now known to be alive and on the run—not just by a handful of castle denizens but by everyone on the Itspi’s grounds. Word of the lie and Amarande’s daring escape would seep past the gate and spread like wildfire throughout Ardenia, sowing distrust and confusion.
It likely had, already.
Worse than the wrath of their own people would be the ire of the remainder of the Sand and Sky. Not only had they lied, they had accused Pyrenee of murder. And no ruler on this continent would take such a horrific false allegation lightly.
It was a precarious position of their own making. And the Queen Mother would not let it stand. “Go after them, Koldo. You know Amarande better than anyone. You can find her. Disarm her. Bring her home for the good of Ardenia.”
That was true. But the priorities here were complicated.
“I want Princess Amarande home and safe,” the general answered, “but I believe what she told us to be accurate, and Pyrenee did force her hand only to lose its crown prince in the process. Which means we have much larger problems—ones I cannot address from the back of a horse in the middle of the Torrent.”
That was where she’d gone, of course. Through the same maze of roads leading from the western border of Ardenia into the Torrent that she’d used little more than a week ago in pursuit of Luca and his kidnappers.
“Yes, Pyrenee will be coming—Inés is gathering her forces, I’m sure.Still.” Geneva nodded. “Look, we have known she would be coming since Amarande first arrived in that putrid wedding gown. You have settled your men at the border. Let them handle her. Given Inés’s lack of urgency thus far, I have no doubt you can retrieve Amarande and still have time for a decent meal and a bubble bath before returning to the front. Leave now—you should have left hours ago.”
Koldo turned to the king. “Your Highness, may I finish my analysis before we decide on a course of action?”
Ferdinand gestured to the empty seat to his right. “Yes, please. Speak plainly about these larger problems.”
The general pulled out the chair and angled herself both toward the king and the Royal Council. Geneva stayed behind, pacing resumed. “I spoke with the guards who were given false orders to arrive at the north tower. All of them confirmed that the man was not of Torrent. He was flaxen haired, with pale coloring—light skin, blue eyes.”
Geneva paused. “Are you suggesting Amarande was not rescued by the stableboy?”
“Luca,Mother,” Ferdinand corrected.
When it was clear Geneva would not deign to respond, Koldo pressed on—dwelling on Luca was dangerous, indeed. The general did not know if Geneva knew the stableboy’s true identity, and it was not a risk she was willing to take knowing what she did about Geneva’s past. “No, I’m suggesting the princess wastakenby Pyrenee. In fact, from the descriptions I’ve gathered, I think the imposter could be Prince Taillefer himself.”
Satordi cleared his throat. “Which is technically what we stated in our letter. If Pyrenee did free her, it only makes our case stronger. They possess her.”
“Except that she was stolen fromus,” Ferdinand replied, “which isnotwhat that letter said.”
Tension thickened within the council room as the king’s private frustrations over the lies at his coronation seeped into the space. The Queen Mother approached the table, and it was obvious to Koldo that she intended to smooth over this irritation of Ferdinand’s as easily as she must have once smoothed a lock of hair out of his eyes.
“My king, the letter spoke truth. It’s simply that the timeline is not quite accurate.” Geneva spoke as if hours and days were as malleable as bread dough. “In time, no one will tie themselves in knots over these fiddly little details because they will remember the largest one and the only one that truly matters—that Pyrenee was behind Amarande’s disappearance.”
Discomfort sat on Ferdinand’s young features. He looked to Koldo then, and she took it as an opportunity to steer the conversation back to what they could currently control. “It does not matter what is perceived as much as what can actually happen to the princess. If Pyrenee has her, she is in true danger.”
The king nodded. “I agree with the general. Princess Amarande’s well-being should be our priority, not what othersthink.”
The Queen Mother chewed upon this rebuke. She did not move away from the table, but rather seemed to reallyseehim now in the blazing morning light. He wasn’t wearing his crown, but in that moment, sitting in his father’s chair, Ferdinand suddenly appeared very much like the Sendoa she had married—and left.
“My king,” Geneva bit out, “wars are won by what people think.”
Koldo could not disagree more. Thoughts played a part, yes, but public perception did not wield a blade or bleed out into the trampled grass.
Yet she held her opinion—this bickering was only wasting time.
“In any case,” Koldo pressed, “we have received no letters from the Dowager Queen nor Prince Taillefer threatening retribution for the death of Prince Renard—this is unusual.” She leveled both of them with the concern that had been welling within her as each moment passed. “The royals of Pyrenee are known for their savvy—they will want to control the narrative on this. And yet I fear because they have not—it is possible that their silence means they are playing another game entirely.”
Geneva gestured to a map that someone had set upon the table, labeled with figurines of each of the houses and showing the general alignment of Ardenia’s divided forces.
“We shall send your troops at the Pyrenee border north, push all the way to the gates of the Bellringe if we have to,” the Queen Mother said. “We will be defending the honor of our princess. No one can fault us for that, and Ferdinand’s first act as king will be seen as virtuous—rescuing his sister after discovering she was not murdered.”
Ferdinand was defiant but careful not to push Geneva’s limits. “I do not want my sister used as a bargaining chip.”
“Noble thought, my son, but not useful,” Geneva replied gently, holding Ferdinand’s gaze. “If we retrieve Amarande from Pyrenee’s clutches and show the world what we have done—reinforcing our preferred timeline, of course—the princess gets what she wants. She won’t live out her days in a tower as long as she recognizes Ferdinand as king.”
