He’d already made provisions to make sure she’d be fully occupied this morning. He would have preferred to be the one occupying her time, but there would be opportunities for that later.
First, there was one more matter to take care of.
The Council of Great Houses.
Yesterday he’d met with a few of the members to prove he wasn’t an impostor and that he’d truly returned from the dead. After that there’d been a lengthy discussion about what to do with the actual impostor heir who’d tried to steal his throne. That, however, had proved entirely unnecessary, as the whelp seemed to have fled sometime during the discussion.
It seemed the impostor heir had been warned by a couple of servants who were enamored with him.
Apollo had sent a number of guards after him, but the impostor wasn’t his priority for now.
The prince slowed his steps as he reached the door that led to the chamber where the council met. The room on the other side always reminded Apollo of a giant pewter goblet. The walls were slightly rounded and the air was subtly silver, giving everything a sharp, swordlike quality. In the center of the room was an aged white oak table that was said to have been there since the days of the first king of the Magnificent North, Wolfric Valor, a rugged man from another era who now sat at the far end of the table.
All conversation stopped as soon as Apollo entered the room. But it was clear from the tableau that until this moment, the conversation had centered entirely around the newest member of the council—the famed Wolfric Valor. Although, only Apollo knew who Wolfric really was. No one else on the council knew that Wolfric, along with the entire Valor family, had been locked away in the Valory until the previous day.
Wolfric now went by the name Lord Vale. And yet every man and woman at the council table still leaned or angled his way. Which was good—it made what Apollo needed to do so much easier. But it was also a little unnerving to see the way the council responded to the legendary first king of the North without even knowing who he really was.
“Here he is, returned from the dead!” bellowed Wolfric, followed by a clap that spread like wildfire until every council member was standing and applauding as Prince Apollo strode toward the white oak table.
Wolfric winked. We are allies, said the gesture. We are in this together. Friends.
But Apollo could only too freshly remember how his last friend had betrayed him. If Wolfric chose to do the same, Apollo would be no match for him and his famed family. All Apollo could do now was keep his word and hope that Wolfric would, too.
“I see that many of you have already met our newest council member,” said Apollo, intentionally phrasing it like a statement rather than a question.
Although Apollo had yet to be officially crowned king, he still had more power than the council. In the Magnificent North, a prince could not become king until he wed. But that law, like his upcoming coronation, was mostly for show. Royal events like coronations and Nocte Neverending endeared princes to their people and filled kingdoms with hope and love.
That said, the Council of Great Houses was not entirely powerless. They couldn’t stop Apollo from naming a new Great House, but they could fight him over it and, in the process, dig up dangerous truths that Apollo didn’t want to risk anyone discovering.
The last thing he needed was the kingdom to learn that the legendary Valors had returned from the dead and were now posing as House Vale.
He’d been dead only a few weeks, but the world believed the Valors had been dead for hundreds of years.
Apollo was still struggling to wrap his mind around the fact that the tales of the Valory had been true and that the Valors had been locked away inside it. He hated to imagine what kind of fuss the kingdom would make if they found out. And he didn’t even want to think about the questions Evangeline would ask if she discovered that she had been the one to unlock the Valory Arch.
It seemed his brother, Tiberius, had been right about what she would do all along.
Apollo only hoped that Tiberius was wrong about what would happen after the arch was opened.
“Lord Vale and his family were there when I returned from the dead,” Apollo explained smoothly, as this was actually partially the truth. Honora Valor, Wolfric’s wife, had cured him from the Archer’s curse and the mirror curse. He truly felt indebted to her, making it easy to say earnestly, “Without this family, I might not be here today. As a reward, I’ve decided to make them a Great House and gift them lands where they might care for others in the same manner they cared for me.”
For a moment the entire council was quiet. Apollo could see that even though the members had been drawn toward Wolfric earlier, they were uncertain about this bear of a man, and even more nervous about Apollo’s proclamation.
Apollo had never bestowed the honor of Great House upon a family, nor had his father before him or his father’s father before him. It was fairly simple to do but once it was done, it was very difficult to undo. To give power was a far easier thing than to take it away.
Although Apollo could sense that each council member feared this declaration had taken power away from them.
He could almost see the questions on the tips of their tongues: You’ve only just come back from the dead. Are you certain this is wise? Are you planning to make other Great Houses? How do you know this house is truly deserving to be Great—to be one of us?
“My family is grateful for your generosity, Your Highness. It is truly an honor to be on this council among so many fine men and women.” Wolfric’s voice was mild, but his gaze was firm and unwavering as he looked around the council. One by one, he met the eyes of each member, and more than a few appeared to hold their breath.
As a boy, Apollo had been told countless stories of this man. It was said that Wolfric Valor could fell entire armies with one battle cry and rip off the heads of enemies with his bare hands. He’d united the fighting Northern clans to form a kingdom and built Wolf Hall as a wedding gift for his wife after stealing her away from another.
On the surface the man before him didn’t appear as forbidding as the stories claimed. Apollo was taller and dressed in clothes far finer. Yet Wolfric possessed that indefinable more his father had always spoken of. Wolfric embodied everything that Apollo had never attempted to be.
The council didn’t speak a word until finally Wolfric released them from his gaze.
It was Lord Byron Belleflower who spoke up then. “Welcome to the council, Lord Vale. I hope you’ve already been apprised of all recent kingdom matters. There are a few other important issues that must be discussed today.”
Belleflower turned toward Apollo. Unlike nearly everyone else in the castle who had looked upon the prince since he’d made his dramatic return from the dead, Byron Belleflower did not gaze upon Apollo with wonder or awe.
He and Apollo had not gotten along for years, and it appeared from the young man’s derisive gaze that Byron had become even more disagreeable during the time Apollo had been away from his throne. There were rumors Belleflower’s paramour had died, though Apollo wouldn’t have been surprised to learn she’d faked her death to get away from him.
“Now,” Belleflower droned loudly, before pausing dramatically to make sure that everyone else at the large table was looking his way.