Sevrin blanched, seeming to realize the implication he had made concerning her.
“Champion Ven will accompany Queen Naelin to Semo. His so-called weaknessishis strength. He would die to protect her. Isn’t that correct, Champion Ven?”
He knelt on one knee. “It is, Your Majesty.”
“Then not sending you would be stupid,” Daleina said. “And I strive to avoid stupidity. Champions, return to your chosen candidates. Continue to train them. And pray they will not be needed anytime soon.”
The spirits cried once more and then flew higher, into the clouds.
The champions bowed and filed out of the chamber, except for Ven. He stayed kneeling before Queen Daleina, his head bent, though he watched Sevrin and the other champions tromp past and down the spiral stairs, until at last they were alone.
Daleina sank into her throne. “Did you have to hit him?”
Ven considered that. “Yes, I believe I did.” He didn’t plan to make a habit of it, especially while Sevrin carried that wicked ax of his, but the situation had warranted it. “There is nothing dishonorable or selfish about what I’ve done.” It demeaned both women to suggest it, implying they didn’t choose him as freely as he chose them.
“He was goading you,” Daleina said, tapping the parchment against the armrests of her throne. “He wanted to prove you’re ruled by emotions, not logic. He was angling for me to remove you as a champion—subtlety is not his strength.”
Rising to his feet, Ven said, “I’ve noticed.”
“Nor is it yours,” she snapped.
Ven winced. That was fair. He supposed he should have waited until after the champions had left to announce his intention to accompany Naelin. The champions were right to worry—without heirs, Aratay remained vulnerable, and Ven had sworn the same oath they had.
But there was another oath he’d made in his heart...
Daleina looked toward the north, over the canopy of trees. Ven followed her gaze. The mountains were too distant to be seen from Mittriel, but the damage from the invasion was still visible—new trees had been grown to replace the damaged ones, and they formed a river of golden leaves against the dark green of the old pine and the red and orange and brown. “Do you think it’s a trap?”
“Yes. I don’t know. It could be.” Ven hesitated, weighing the various risks. “It doesn’t really matter, though, does it? And it’s why I’m going, to protect Naelin against any attacks with blades, fists, or claws. But if Queen Merecot was to attempt poison...”
“I’ll order Poison-Master Garnah to accompany you.”
“She won’t be willing to leave her son.” That wasn’t his only objection, though. Truthfully, Garnah was the last person he would trust on a diplomatic mission. She was more likely to cause disaster than prevent it. But he could appreciate Daleina wanting Garnah out of the country, as far from Arin as possible.
She rose again. “I will speak to her. You wish to leave at dawn, I presume?”
He bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty. I officially request a leave of absence from my champion duties, until the completion of this mission.”
“Granted,” Daleina said. “But Ven...”
“Yes?”
“You will always be my champion.”
Chapter14
Flanked by Ven and Hamon, Daleina strode through the palace and tried to ignore the tree spirit that was nestling into her crown. It was muttering to itself in unintelligible words that sounded like wood splintering while it wound her hair into a nest and cuddled with the jewels on her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hamon shooting glances at her crown.
“Daleina...” Hamon began.
“Yes, I know.”
“But it’s staying.”
“I know.”
Ven looked amused. “You might start a new fashion.”
Hamon didnotlook amused. “If it should panic or turn on you, its claws could—”
