At least she was smart enough to know she was a prime suspect.
“There are many servants who can attest that we remained at our estate until late in the evening, with no visitors coming or going.”
“How convenient,” I said flatly.
Perhaps sensing my crumbling self-control, Remis quickly changed the subject and launched into a monologue about my “plans” for Lumnos, most of which I’d never heard before, and my desire to maintain Ulther’s status quo.
For nearly an hour, Remis and Marthe discussed various trade agreements, appointments, and other meaningless boons of wealth and power. Occasionally, members of my council or Marthe’s would speak up, including more than a few snippy comments from Iléana while she brazenly devoured Luther with a possessive gaze.
I listened closely, memorizing every morsel of information revealed. I took turns staring down each Hanoverre until they shifted uncomfortably in their seats. All the while, I kept my silence, offering nothing in return.
On the surface, the meeting was going quite well. Their requests were mostly reasonable, and they pleasantly considered our arguments on the points where Remis held firm.
But I was not so naive—not anymore.
I was a snake, coiled and ready to strike, and I recognized another one when I saw her.
“We will appoint a Hanoverre to the councils you requested, provided you’re willing to accept our terms on the silk shipments,” Remis offered.
Marthe considered, then gave a curt nod. “That is acceptable to House Hanoverre.”
“Splendid,” he purred, rising to his feet. “What a productive meeting this has been. Shall I pour some wine so we can toast to an amicable future for our two Houses?”
“A lovely idea,” she agreed. “But there’s one final point we wish to discuss.”
Marthe’s eyes cut to me. I could almost hear her tail rattling.
“I spoke with Evrim Benette. He informed me of the deal that was discussed with respect to the mortals. I’m afraid those terms are simply not sufficient.”
“I’m sure we can come to some agreement,” Remis said hesitantly. “What is your request?”
“It’s quite simple, really. We want all mortals exiled by the end of the year. It’s time we cleansed them from our realm once and for all.” She tapped her knobby, wrinkled fingers along the armrest. “And it is not a request. It is a demand. We will require a bonded bargain to ensure the Crown’s commitment.”
“That is a substantial demand, Marthe.” Remis shot me a wary glance. “Her Majesty takes matters related to the mortals very seriously, given her upbringing.”
“As does House Hanoverre,” Marthe said frostily. “Given her upbringing.”
All eyes in the room turned to me, waiting to see if I would take her bait and fight back.
Instead, I held my silent vigil.
“By the time Her Majesty is coronated, year end will only be one month away,” Remis said. “Perhaps we could simply close our borders to new arrivals, and outlaw any further procreation. Let them die out naturally.
“We’ve already had one attack on our soil, Remis. We must eliminate the threat before things get worse.”
A biting nausea grew at the casual indifference with which they debated the genocide and exile of living, breathing people—my people, in my heart if not wholly in my blood.
Marthe gestured to me. “If Her Majesty truly cares for the mortals, she can announce her decision now and give them more time to prepare.”
Remis huffed. “Surely there is some alternative—”
“There is none. House Hanoverre will accept nothing less.”
Again, a host of curious eyes turned my way.
Again, I held my silence.
Remis cleared his throat. “Her Majesty will discuss your offer with her advisors and provide an answer before the Challenging.”
“I’m afraid that’s unacceptable. We require an answer today.”
“Marthe, there are still many House Receptions to come. Her Majesty must consider all requests before—”
“That is precisely why I demand an answer today. House Hanoverre is a powerful family with a long history and impeccable breeding. We will not be made to wait on lesser Houses.”
Remis let out a weary sigh, firmly backed into a corner. He could not agree to a bonded bargain on my behalf. If House Hanoverre would not yield, he had no choice but to await—and accept—my response.
He turned to me. “Your Majesty?”
I said nothing. Did nothing.
After a long beat, Marthe went on. “In the unfortunate event that Her Majesty declines our terms, Jean is prepared to represent House Hanoverre at the Challenging.” She swiveled in her seat and placed a bony hand on her grandson’s knee. “Such horrible business, these fights to the death, but my darling boy will do what he must for our House.”
Jean flashed an adoring look at Marthe that turned venomous as it shifted to me.
“Well?” Marthe asked me. “Do you have an answer?”
I cocked my head lazily to one side and gave Jean a bored once-over. I allowed the corner of my lip to quirk up for a brief moment before settling back into my stony stare.
Still I held my silence.
Iléana huffed loudly. “A well-placed source tells me you can’t even control your magic. We all saw your failed attempt at the funeral.”
“And again at the Ascension Ball,” Jean added.
“I have seen the extent of her power myself,” Alixe spoke up from behind me. “And there is no equal. Certainly not in Lumnos, and I suspect not in all of Emarion.” She paused. “You have known me for a long time, Iléana. You know I would not lie about such things.”
Iléana scowled, though the beginnings of doubt crept onto her features.
Marthe waved her hand with an airy shrug. “It is not the extent of one’s power that determines a victor, but one’s ability to control it. Jean’s training in combat is second to none. He will easily eviscerate a novice, even a strong one.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Are you truly so eager to rush to your death, girl? Don’t you value your own life?”
A cold, joyless smile eased onto my lips. I rose to my feet and sauntered to a nearby table where a spread of refreshments had been laid out. I poured myself a goblet of wine, then made a show of staring into the deep red liquid before indulging in a leisurely sip.
I began to move in a broad circle around the room, my pace deliberately slow.
“My father was a Commander in the army,” I finally began. “The highest ranking mortal in its history, in fact. And he taught me everything he knew: How to fight. How to strategize. How to defeat an opponent—” I paused, gesturing with my goblet toward Jean. “—even if their training is second to none.”
I spun on my heel and strolled the opposite direction, keeping my tone light and my expression indifferent.
“But the most important lesson my father taught me was courage. He stepped out into battle again and again, even knowing each one might mean his death, because he believed in what he was fighting for. His convictions, his principles of right and wrong, were worth more to him than his own life.”
I halted my pacing in front of Marthe’s chair and stared down at her with a frosty glare.