Inés toyed with the cheese she had piled on her plate—for once, she had no stomach for it. “Captain Nikola, did you and your partybotherto interview anyone beyond the harbormaster?”
There was a pause as chairs creaked, others shifting to get a look at the young captain as his posture stiffened. Nikola smelled danger—everyone did. As well they should. “No, Your Highness. We did not think it reasonable to waste time on a lie.”
Inés sighed. “While I understand that, I do not believe you’ve done your due diligence, Captain. You questioned a single person, an official voice that is easily bought—one pouch of gold can remove a ship from the record books and put an easy lie to a harbormaster’s lips. Why did you not take the time to talk with the eyes of the harbor? The scalawags, fishermen, beggars? They have the time to be curious, many know their letters, and more than one could have likely identified the ship, if not the unusual arrival of a blood-soaked girl inmywedding gown.”
The Dowager Queen let her rebuke hang heavy in the air. Nikola did not dare address any of it verbally. Instead, he pressed his shaking fingers into the lip of the table.
“It matters not.” With a wave, Inés relieved the captain from standing, and the boy sank to his seat. “What matters now is that we prepare our retaliation for the princess’s actions and plan for what Ardenia may doifshe has returned there. They will feel the victim, though it was my dear Renard whose blood was shed.”
Councilor Laurent yet again cleared his throat. For the past year, it seemed he could start a conversation no other way. “Your Highness, that begs another question. What of the matter of succession? Our hands are tied with Prince Taillefer missing. Ought we search for him—use the resources we had put into finding the princess and pivot to locating the current heir?”
The Dowager Queen raised an eyebrow as sharp as the best dagger. “You misspeak, Laurent. Taillefer isnotthe heir.”
There was a very long pause.
Finally, the old man began again, labored and somewhat confused. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but with Prince Renard deceased, the second son—”
The Dowager Queen bared her teeth. “Prince Renard’s loss of life is directly and unequivocally thefaultof Taillefer, who hired the kidnapper pirates in the first place. Wherever he is, we shall no longer call him prince and he shall have no claim to this throne.”
Laurent’s wrinkles trembled in surprise. “You… you would disown him, Your Highness?”
“I already have.”
“Your Highness, unfortunately, there is an official protocol for a matter such as this.” A woman’s voice—Colette, another ancient one.
“Make it official then,” Inés snapped.
Menon waded in, brave. “I am afraid we cannot do that without solid proof.”
Inés’s frustration grew. “The pirate has proof.”
Eyes shot to Captain Nikola, who clearly did not wish to be admonished again, but had the information the table sought. “With all due respect, Your Highness, he has a splitting headache and his word cannot be trusted.”
The Dowager Queen gritted her teeth. Perhaps her circle had grown too large—a smaller group meant less disagreement. Inés drew in a swift breath and looked down her nose at the full table. “May I remind all of you that the wedding was not completed and no coronation occurred;therefore,I am still the Dowager Queen and regent to Pyrenee. If you will not assume Taillefer disowned and relieved of his title at this very moment, you will at least recognize that I am the only monarch in this room, and therefore, it is my word that takes precedence. Do you understand?”
A few murmurs rounded the table—though the acknowledgment was not enough for the anger that seethed beneath her silks and lace.
“Do you understand?”she demanded, her gaze as piercing as it was direct—no one at the table could escape it.
“Yes, Your Highness,” rang out in unison.
“Good. Captain, get what you need from the pirate. Council, I demand that, once I have the necessary proof per whatever statute causes you to currently defy me, we begin the process to strip Taillefer of his title.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Inés continued without producing any expression close to approval. “I do not anticipate that process will take long; therefore, Captain Nikola, I request that you round up your best men and create a plan to put your efforts into locating Taillefer. He is to be tried for treason for his part in the regicide of his brother.”
Nikola did not hesitate to answer. “Yes, Your Highness.”
The Dowager Queen huffed through her nostrils. “Captain, so that we are clear on your orders: Pirate first. Then a trip to the harbor, questioning not only about the princess but also about Taillefer. Then, based on your findings, a complete, multifaceted plan of attack for retrieval of Taillefer by breakfast the day after tomorrow, not a moment later.”
The young soldier accepted the order and left immediately. When he was gone and the doors creaked closed, Colette drew herself up straight. “Your Highness, while I agree with you that this is the best course of action, I would be remiss if I didn’t make mention that, considering how the Basilican crown changed hands fifty years ago, Taillefer could appeal to the ruling parties of the Sand and Sky that he is the rightful heir.”
This was the perfect opening, almost as if Inés had written it herself. She stood, and with a flourish, produced two scrolls, held high for all to see.
“I have news regarding my leadership and strengthening Pyrenee’s position within the Sand and Sky—regardless of Ardenia’s plans.” She distributed the scrolls to her immediate neighbors. “This is a signed contract and an identical copy. The original was delivered this morning directly from King Domingu, confirming our intent to wed.”
The table gasped. One of the men spoke—typical, given the questionand the general tone of disapproval in the noise preceding it. “But the king is already married.”
