Page 63

“Now that all parties have arrived, follow me,” Coda announced officially, then proceeded to shuffle across the floor at a snail’s pace. There were chuckles from the two entourages, and one of Fenrick’s men hurried ahead to open one of two wooden doors. The rest of Fenrick’s group swept rudely past the elderly man. Granier’s group did as well, but my group, my wonderful pals, stayed respectfully behind Coda. A smile creased the old man’s cheeks as he waved us through.

We entered a room with a ceiling so high there were birds up in the beams. I had no idea how such cathedral-style ceilings fit inside the squat building we’d entered. I could only assume it was through some kind of magic. A long wooden table with three plain chairs sat at the front of the room. Stadium-style seating surrounded a large, open center with a platform. Granier and his group went to the left and Fenrick’s sat on the right, so we climbed up into seats in the middle section.

Fenrick slumped back in a chair and stuck his black-booted foot up on the railing. His arm rested casually on his lifted knee. He looked our direction many times. Granier seemed to be even more uninterested now. He leaned over to converse with one of his guards, and they laughed about something. It seemed I was the only invitee to the tribunal who had a major case of nerves.

Coda emerged with a gold bell. He rang it once. “Please stand for the Triumvirate of Sorcerers.”

Fenrick growled quietly as if standing was a big ask. Everyone got to their feet and a side door opened.

Coda cleared his throat a few times, but it only seemed to make him hoarser. He powered on. A man stepped through the doorway. His shiny black hair was slicked back from a face that showed some age, but not nearly as much as I expected. He wore a stern glower, and a dark gray toga was draped around his shoulder on one side and pinned on the other shoulder with a large gold medallion.

“The great and wise Orl,” Coda croaked the words out. Fenrick’s group laughed lightly like school bullies.

Orl sat in the first chair, and a second man appeared. He was more weathered and grayer, as I’d imagined, but his beard was short and neat. He, too, wore a toga, but it was dark blue and clasped with a silver medallion. His expression was equally stern, which didn’t help my butterflies.

“The great and wise Roh,” Coda announced. The frog in his throat had cleared some.

The third sorcerer walked through the door in a forest green toga clasped with a copper medallion. He had red hair streaked with gray and his was the least formidable glower, which wasn’t saying all that much.

“The great and wise Fren,” Coda announced.

Fenrick’s group sat before Fren was seated, earning a scolding “no” from Coda. Fenrick bowed down in apology, but he was wearing a smug grin. It almost seemed like he was there to sabotage his side, and I was fine with that. Now, if only Granier’s group would join in with the same disrespectful behavior.

Orl had a small gavel, which he tapped twice. “The tribunal concerning the fated mate for Prince Granier of Solamere and Prince Fenrick of Regnamoor will come to order.” Coda hurried across the room with an amazing amount of speed and agility. He sat at the side table, opened a very large leather-bound ledger, picked up a writing quill and immediately began scribbling away. Apparently, he was also the court reporter.

Orl read over a piece of parchment, then looked around the room. His serious glower softened as it landed on me. “You are the daughter of Sassa Willow, granddaughter of King Articus and Queen Raphaela?”

I nodded. My throat was too dry to speak. Lyric elbowed me to let me know a nod wasn’t respectful. Revel reached over discreetly and touched my hand for courage. I took a deep breath, swallowed hard and stood up. I was, after all, the granddaughter of a king, a fact that was going to take a little getting used to.

I stood up and locked my knees for strength. “Yes, sir—your honor? Your greatness?” I stupidly hadn’t taken the time to find out how to address a Triumvirate of Sorcerers.

A few snickers circled the room.

“I like the last one; however, ‘your lordship’ will do. Come down to the dais. We have some questions for you.” I glanced around at my friends. They all returned encouraging smiles. I found my way down to the platform on shaky legs and stepped upon it.

“You look like your mother,” Fren said.

“I consider that a great compliment.”

Roh placed his forearms on the table and crossed his long fingers. “It is highly unusual to be fated to two men. We assume it has to do with your mixed lineage and your royal blood. How do you feel about it?”

I shook out the butterflies. This was my chance to let my opinion be known. “I’m not pleased to be fated to anyone. I arrived here from the human world, where most people choose the person they want to be with. They use this old-fashioned technique called ‘falling in love.’”

Paxton’s lecture about me occasionally running off in a wild rant sprinkled through my thoughts. I rolled in my lips to stop. The scornful expressions had softened some. They exchanged glances. That happened a lot around me. “Pardon me for being so frank, but it feels good to get my feelings out in the open.”

“Yes, we do know about your very unorthodox upbringing in the human world. Your mother made a mistake taking you there,” Orl said.

“A young widow running away to shield her baby from an uncertain future and possible death doesn’t sound like a mistake in my eyes.”

Coda gasped but kept writing. It seemed I’d overstepped my boundaries. Had I just signed my own execution warrant?

Fren sat up straighter. “You speak very plainly.”

“Again, pardon me, but of all the people in this room, I am the one whose life and future depends greatly on your decision. I just ask that you take into consideration that I, too, am a living being with feelings and emotions and a heavy desire to be happy.”

Orl sat up straighter. “Of course, we understand. However, the rules of fated mates are ancient and hold true to this day. You have been dealt an unusual circumstance, to say the least.” He relaxed his stern posture some. “You make a good point about having a say in this. If you’d been fated to just one of the princes, you would not be here. You’d fulfill your fate, marry the prince and be moved to a position of rank and respect in his region.”

“Even if it’s not what I chose?” I asked.