Page 12 of The Empty Throne

It smelled of cinnamon and cloves from thepot of fragrance oil on the credenza opposite the door. The wholeroom was done in warm golds and reds, with accents of dark creamand brown, a warm and inviting room where she and her mother hadspent countless hours.

Where she would spend countless more alonenow.

Those first hours would be spent trying tofigure out why in thefuckthe late king had been sellingthem out to Kenten. Cremisio had fought for years, for decades, forcenturiesto be left alone and independent. Now he wastrying to cozy up with Kenten, reduce them to little more thanpuppetry?

She could not blame her mother forassassinating the bastard anymore, though she hated the wholefamily had needed to die right alongside him.

The rest would fall to her, starting withfinding this stupid secret heir and making sure they never took thethrone. No heir, no marriage, no deal with Kenten.

Did Kite and Sobeki know about this? No, theywould have mentioned it already, told her and Cohea and… gonethrough with it? Probably. She, however, was not about to toleratethe mess. Even if it cost her everything.

Hopefully, one day, Sobeki and Kite wouldforgive her. Cohea never would, she didn't even bother hoping forthat. Cohea was too much of an honorable, unbending ass to forgivea betrayal like this, even if she was doing it for all the rightreasons. She might even be able to live with Kite's hate, though itwould kill her. Sobeki, though…

Best not to think about it. She'd made herchoice there anyway.

First things first, though. She was nowMatriarch of Beltres. There were papers that needed to be signed,announcements to send out, and she would have to arrange for adeath certificate, even though circumstances had made properlyobtaining one impossible. Still, there was little that money andpower could not obtain.

Lists, lists, lists. She needed to makelists.

As she was drawing out paper to do so, thedoor opened, and a servant came in bearing the requested tea, alongwith food Oskia hadn't asked for but which was appreciated.

Behind her came Carloth, the chatelaine whooversaw the manor and lands. She approached the desk and set agleaming silver salver at the edge of it. "For you, LadyBeltres."

"Thank you," Oskia replied, eyes stinginganew. Lady Beltres. Not Lady Oskia. This day was always going tocome, but she'd stupidly thought it would not be for at leastanother decade.

When she was once again alone, Oskia drew thesalver closer. On it was the official ring of the House of Beltres,which she slid onto the middle finger of her left hand, right nextto the ruby ring that had been gifted to her years ago and whichshe treasured deeply.

Next were the master keys to the house, hungon a wrought iron keyring that had passed through every generationof Beltres since their inception. Her mother had worn them on agirdle of silver circle links. Oskia would be giving that to herlittle sister, Vanna, who had always adored it. She had more thanenough girdles of her own, Shatar knew.

The final item on the salver was another key,this one always kept separate from the ring of master keys.Dangling from it was a dark gray tassel and a silver charm,slightly tarnished, in the shape of an enormous shark. A GreatShark, one of the fiercest predators in the ocean and the crest ofBeltres.

This key was to the treasury vault in thehidden basement. Normally it was kept in a secret safe in this verystudy. Why had her mother taken it out?

The back of Oskia's neck prickled. There wasa message here. Scooping up the key, she slammed back a cup oftoo-hot tea and then strode from the study, wending her way throughthe house, into the kitchen and through to the pantry, where sheunlocked the door to the wine cellar.

Down in the dark and damp, she removed herglasses and tucked them away. There were lanterns nearby, andthere'd be sconces in the cellar proper, but Oskia had never neededlight to see.

At the back of the wine cellar, she pushed ata set of shelves holding small casks of brandy and cordials, set onhidden rails that allowed it to easily move out of the way. Behindthem was revealed a heavy door, wood with iron bands across it,difficult to move and impossible to break through in a reasonableamount of time.

Unlocking it, Oskia then pressed her shoulderto it and leaned all of her weight, forcing the door to moveslowly, bit by bit, until it was finally open enough for her topass.

Inside was the wealth of many lifetimes,irreplaceable treasures that Beltres guarded fiercely.

In pride of place was an enormous stonetable, made in this room and impossible to move out of it. The backhalf of it was stacked with various boxes and chests, scrolls intreated leather cases. The front half was kept clear and covered ina felt mat to lay things out when they were being examined orused.

Right then, there was a long, narrow box setin the middle of the clear space. A box carved all over with anocean motif, the center of the top taken up by an enormous sharkwith teeth bared. The Great Shark of Beltres.

She'd only ever heard of this box, never seenit. Family legend was that it had been lost when a ship sank twogenerations ago. The loss had been devastating. How… how was ithere? Had it not been lost after all? Why had someone lied?

Oskia couldn'ttakethis. The alarmingmessage from her mother. The abrupt death of her mother. The king'sattempted betrayal of his own fucking kingdom. Now the long-lostfamily sword had abruptly reappeared.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowlyand approached the table, running a hand over the box, tracing theshark focal point. Given the pristine condition, she doubted thisbox had ever been anywhere near the ocean, let alone lost init.

Flipping the latches, she pushed the lid upand back, leaving it to thump against the table, muted slightly bythe protective velvet cover.

A beautiful cutlass lay in a bed of blackvelvet, the steel shimmering ever so faintly, like it had pearldust deep in its depths. The blade was etched with wave-likeswirls, a shark that gleamed when the light struck it just so.She'd expected a hilt shaped like shark, just to continue with theaggressive theming, but it was simple, dark-stained wood wrapped instrips of dark blue leather. The pommel looked to be bone of somesort, and from it dangled a tassel and several small charms, one ofthem, of course, a shark.

She closed the lid, took the box with her,and restored the hiding spot before returning to the study.Herstudy.

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