“You’ll decline the Hanoverres’ bargain?” I asked.
“I’ll decline the bargain.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You promise?”
He nodded, and I swore I saw relief wash over his features and strip away some small measure of the burden he carried. Whether it was relief to no longer be bound to Iléana, or at the knowledge that I still valued his promises, I couldn’t tell, but both were a balm for my soul.
“Lunch!” Eleanor cheered. She looped her arm in mine and yanked me toward the stairs.
I snagged Alixe in my other arm, pulling both women in close at my hips. The rest of the group fell in step behind us, marching in a boisterous parade up the steps.
“I hope this good mood you’re all in means none of you are planning to Challenge me tomorrow,” I joked.
“If any Corbois tries to raise a Challenge, I suspect they’ll have a sword in their side before they can get the words out,” Alixe said.
Luther growled in agreement.
I laughed. “At least if I do get betrayed, Remis goes down, too. He and I sealed our arrangement with a bonded bargain, so if any Corbois Challenges me, he loses his magic.”
Luther stopped still. “You did?”
“Diem,” Eleanor interrupted, “would you like me to arrange a dinner this evening? Something simple, just for the seven of us?”
My heart felt suddenly heavy. Tonight very well could be my final night alive, and if it was, spending it with my newfound family was exactly where I wanted to be.
But there was something else I needed to do. Something I could not rightly go to my grave without seeing through.
“Thank you, but I have some unfinished business I need to take care of this evening.”
Eleanor forced a smile, though shades of disappointment marred her lovely features.
I gently nudged her side. “Will you plan a victory dinner for tomorrow night instead?”
“That’s the spirit!” Taran yelled.
Eleanor lit up. “Nothing would make me happier.”
We paraded through the palace to the glass-walled dining room, where my entourage abandoned me the moment they laid eyes on the mouth-watering buffet.
Only Luther remained at my side, taking a private moment to settle my cape back onto my shoulders and secure the clasps over my chest. “This unfinished business you spoke of… do you need any help?”
I pulled out the letter he had delivered to me and studied it, running my fingers over the creases, thinking of the words scrawled inside and the man who had written them. When I met Luther’s eyes again, I saw a gleam of understanding—and of hope.
“No,” I said softly. “This is something I need to do alone.”
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
Maura’s wails filled the night air, reverberating off the stone walls of the healer’s center and the leafless winter branches of the surrounding forest.
“This is not a very strong vote of confidence for my chances tomorrow,” I teased as I swiped away another round of tears from her ruddy cheeks.
“I’m s-sorry,” she sobbed, burying her head against my chest and squeezing her arms around me. “This whole thing is awful. Awful. So awful! You’re already the Queen, what’s the point?”
“Politics,” I sighed. “Posturing. Bribes and deal-making. Trying to scare me into bending my will to them.”
She shook her head and sniffled. “If they thought that would ever work, they haven’t spent much time with you.”
A loud snort rang out behind me, and I shot a glare over my shoulder. Taran grinned back from where he and Alixe leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree.
It turned out coming to Mortal City alone was a non-negotiable for Luther. I had strongly considered another solo escape on Sorae, but I compromised, allowing Alixe to escort me so she could veil me from sight with her magic. Taran, being Taran, invited himself along, swearing himself to total silence—a promise he’d already broken at least a dozen times.
“Don’t forget, if the deliveries of herbs stop arriving, or if you need anything else, speak to Luther.” I gently pulled out of Maura’s arms and laid my hands on her shoulders. “With any luck, the next time I see you, I’ll be coronated. Then we can make some real changes around here.”
Her lip quivered as she pressed her palms to my face. “I wish your parents could see you now—the incredible woman they raised.”
My throat went tight. “Thank you,” was all I could manage to get out.
“I will pray to the gods to watch over you.” Her caramel-brown eyes darted to the Descended behind me, and her voice slipped to a whisper. “The Kindred and the Old Gods alike.”
I fought a smile at her frightened stare as she gawked at my Descended friends. It wasn’t so long ago that I would have had a similar reaction. With their tall, muscular bodies and flawless beauty, Taran and Alixe made an intimidating pair even without their powerful magic.
“Is Lana here?” I asked.
“No, she’s off visiting friends in Arboros. I’ve got her refilling our inventory while she’s there.”
I smiled wistfully, remembering how my mother and I used to make trips together to the lush southern realm to visit their well-stocked healers.
“Do you want me to pass along a message when she’s back?” Maura asked.
“No, I… I’ll see her when she returns.”
Maura returned my sad smile, an unspoken hope passing between us that I lived long enough to fulfill that claim. We shared a final hug, her eyes again welling with tears, before I shooed her back into the center to return to her work.
“One more stop,” I announced as I strolled back toward Taran and Alixe and they fell in step beside me. “I’ll need some privacy for the next one.”
I kept my gaze fixed on the road, though I caught the probing look Taran shot me from the corner of my eye.
“I’ll keep us out of sight,” Alixe said, inclining her head to Taran. “And I’ll keep him out of earshot.”
Taran huffed, and I gave her a grateful smile.
“I’ve never been to this area of Mortal City,” she admitted. “I escorted King Ulther once or twice to dedicate a statue, but we stayed on horseback and never strayed from the main roads.”
“Really?” I raised my eyebrows, then looked to Taran. “And you?”
He shook his head. “Your family’s home is the closest I’ve ever come.”
“Neither of you ever served on the Mortal City patrols?” I asked.
“Corbois guards don’t get assigned to conduct mortal patrols. Except—” She cringed. “—as punishment.”
“Working with mortals is a punishment?” I gave a harsh laugh. “That explains quite a bit.”
At least they both had the decency to look ashamed.
I struggled against my mounting resentment. I didn’t know their exact ages—an introduction-gone-wrong to an elder Corbois had taught me the hard way that asking a Descended’s age was extremely taboo—but I had to guess they’d been serving in the Guard for many years, if not decades. For neither of them to have set foot in the streets of Mortal City…
No wonder the Descended cared so little for mortals when they were entirely isolated from how we—they—lived.