Page 22 of Burn of the Everflame

“None at all,” she answered. “The ships we liberated from Meros got us here in no time.”

The Meros King’s smile disappeared. The Faunos and Arboros Queens shared a look.

By now, I’d learned many of Auralie’s methods. This was not the flippant antagonizing it appeared to be. This was a calculated test of the cease-fire, a heavy stomp on its center to see how much weight it could hold.

Obaneryn stepped forward. “Those ships belong to me.”

Auralie advanced as well, unbothered. “They were built by mortal hands. Paid for by mortal taxes. Manned by mortal crews.” She smiled. “Now they serve mortal captains.”

“I treat mortals fairly in my realm,” he argued. “They live and work as equals.”

Cordellia snorted.

“Is that so?” Auralie asked. “Then you must have an equal number of mortals as your advisors.”

His mouth clicked shut.

“Equal number of mortal captains in your fleet?”

“Mortals cannot be captains. They do not control the winds and tides as my people do.”

“Are the mortals not ‘your people’?” I cut in.

He shot me a look that seemed to ask the question burning on every Descended tongue in Lumnos: You’re one of us. Why are you acting like one of them?

But it was the Sophos Crown’s reaction that caught my focus. Color had drained from Doriel’s alabaster skin, their rose eyes wide and round. They seemed to have just now taken note of my presence.

The last time we’d seen each other, Doriel had slammed the Sophos border back down on my godhood as they sped away on a boat with Diem, leaving me on the shore without my magic. When Teller and Perthe showed up soon after, bound and gagged by a group of soldiers, I realized Doriel had betrayed us. Perthe was able to fight his way free, but we were too outnumbered to keep them from taking Teller. The best we could do was steal a boat and make our pursuit—a rescue attempt that went horribly wrong.

Doriel’s eyes slipped over my shoulder to Teller, the boy they’d left on the island to die, and grew even larger.

The Arboros Queen cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should move to the meeting room?”

“A wise idea,” Auralie answered. She glanced at the Faunos Queen. “Ailani, why don’t you lead the way?”

Another test. Of all the Crowns, the most likely to break the cease-fire were the ruthless Faunos and Ignios Crowns, the latter of whom was curiously missing.

Ailani’s yellow eyes shrunk to slits. “How dare you use my name?” Her sharpened, claw-like nails curled at her side. “I’m ‘Her Majesty’ to you.”

Auralie shrugged. “Then I’m ‘Her Majesty’ to you. My people ruled this land before yours arrived.”

“And then my people conquered yours. The strongest deserve to rule. That’s nature’s way.”

“Then I should swear my loyalty to Ophiucae. He’s the strongest among you, is he not?”

The foyer fell deadly silent.

“We can use the names of our realms, as we do on the island,” the Arboros Queen offered, her eyes bouncing nervously around the Crowns. “Will that suffice?”

Sophos nodded quickly, still looking pale, joined by a fuming Meros. Faunos gave an irritated shrug.

Arboros turned her hopeful gaze to Auralie, who stood in statuesque silence long enough that I wondered if she might push the Crowns too far, but she eventually nodded.

“Leave your blades,” the Fortos Vice General barked. He eyed the sword strapped to my back. “No weapons in the meeting room.”

“Will the Crowns be taking flameroot, then?” Auralie asked.

Again, the group went quiet. “You know about the flameroot?” Meros asked.