Mare glowers at the exchange, her entire body tensing like a twisting wire. Her eyes tick between Salin and my father, before straying to Tolly. I feel a tremor of fear for my brother, even though she promised not to kill him. In Caesar’s Square she unleashed a wrath like I’ve never seen. And on the Corvium battlefield she held her own, even surrounded by an army of Silvers. Her lightning is far deadlier than I remember. If she chose to murder Tolly right now, I doubt anyone could stop her. Punish her, of course, but not stop her.
I have a feeling she won’t be terribly pleased by Anabel’s plan. Any Silver woman in love with a king would be content to be a consort, bound though not married—but I don’t believe Reds think that way. They have no idea how important the house bonds are, or how deeply vital heirs of strong blood have always been. They think love matters when wedding vows are spoken. I suppose that is a small blessing in their lives. Without power, without strength, they have nothing to protect and no legacy to uphold. Their lives are inconsequential, but still, their lives are their own.
As I thought mine was, for a few brief, foolish weeks.
On the battlefield, I told Mare Barrow not to make a habit of letting me save her. Ironic. Now I hope she saves me from a queen’s gilded prison, and a king’s bridal cage. I hope her storm destroys the alliance before it even takes root.
“。 . . prepares for escape as well as attack. Swifts were in place, transports, airjets. We never even saw Maven.” Salin keeps up his protest, hands raised above his head. Father lets him. Father always gives a person enough rope to hang themselves. “The Lakelander king was there. He commanded his troops himself.”
Father’s eyes flash and darken, the only indication of his sudden discomfort. “And?”
“And now he lies in a grave with them.” Salin glances up at his steel king, a child searching for approval. He trembles down to his fingertips. I think of Iris left behind in Archeon, a new queen on a poisoned throne. And now without her father, cut off from the only family who came south at her side. She was formidable, to say the least, but this will weaken her immensely. If she weren’t my enemy, I might feel pity.
Slowly, Father rises from his throne. He looks thoughtful. “Who killed the king of the Lakelands?”
The noose tightens.
Salin grins. “I did.”
The noose snaps, and so does Father. With a clenched fist, in the blink of an eye, he twists Salin’s buttons off his jacket, rolling them into thin spindles of iron. Each one wraps around his neck, pulling, forcing Salin to stand. They keep rising, until his toes scrabble against the floor, searching for purchase.
At the tables, the Montfort leader leans back in his chair. The woman next to him, a very severe blonde with facial scars, curls her lips into a scowl. I remember her from the attack on Summerton, the one that almost took my brother’s life. Cal tortured her himself and now they’re practically side by side. She’s Scarlet Guard, highly ranked, and, if I’m not mistaken, one of Mare’s closest allies.
“Your orders—” Salin chokes out. He claws at the iron threads around his neck, digging into his flesh. His face grays as blood pools beneath his flesh.
“My orders were to kill Maven Calore or prevent his escape. You did neither.”
“I—”
“Killed a king of sovereign nation. An ally of Norta who had no reason to do anything but defend the new Lakelander queen. But now?” Father scoffs, using his ability to draw Salin closer. “You’ve given them a rather wonderful incentive to drown us all. The ruling queen of the Lakelands will not stand for this.” He slaps Salin across the face with a resounding crack. The blow is meant to shame, not hurt. It works well. “I strip you of your titles and responsibilities. House Iral, redistribute them as you see fit. And get this worm out of my sight.”
Salin’s family is quick to drag him from the chamber before he can dig a deeper hole. When the iron threads spring free, all he does is cough and perhaps cry. His sobs echo in the hall but are quickly cut off by the slamming of the doors. A pathetic man. Though I’m glad he didn’t kill Maven. If the Calore brat died today, there would be no obstacle between Cal and the throne. Cal and me. This way, at least, there is some dark hope.
“Does anyone have anything useful to contribute?” Father sits back down smoothly and runs a finger down the spine of Mother’s snake. Its eyes slide shut in pleasure. Disgusting.
Jerald Haven looks like he wants to disappear in his chair, and he just might. He stares at his folded hands, willing my father not to humiliate him next. Luckily, he’s saved by the scowling Scarlet Guard commander. She stands, scraping back her seat.