Page 57 of The Empty Throne

"Since you saved her life and made herabsolutely furious about being in your debt, yes, I know, you neverstop gloating," Lindquist said, rolling his eyes. "They should behere in a few hours. Until then, we're in a strange sort of lull."He opened the door to his chambers and motioned for Bittersea toenter first. "Sadly, there won't be time to punish you, but don'tworry, making me wait is just one more punishment on the list."

Well, that was disappointing, but on theother hand, the longer Lindquist was made to wait, the morecreative he tended to be. "So if you're not going to keep meentertained, what am I doing here?"

A hand sank into the hair at his nape andjerked him back, making him hiss, forcing his head back at apainful angle as Lindquist said roughly in his ear, "Don't getpresumptuous. You're here for my amusement, not the other wayaround." He shoved Bittersea forward and then returned to what therest of the world knew as Lindquist's normal. "I had food and abath brought for you. Get some rest, Bittersea. You're in nocondition for anything else. When didyoulast sleep?"

"I don't remember," Bittersea replied as hecame to a stop in the middle of the room and lifted a hand to startworking at the fastenings of his clothes—and then droppedunconscious, oblivious to a sighing Lindquist catching him beforehe hit the ground.

Sixteen

Oskia was on tenterhooks as the ships pulledinto the harbor. The damned snow was unrelenting, and the cold ascutting as a freshly sharpened knife.

Worse than the weather, though, was thesilence. Cremin was not a quiet city, even in the dead of night.Especially in the harbor, where ships came and went at all hours,warehouses being filled and emptied, cleaning and repairing aconstant need against the brutal salt and wind.

Now, there was only stillness. No workers, nosailors, no whores or street vendors. Even the dock rats, thechildren who lived and worked there, were absent, and they wereusually the last to give up. Not a city asleep, though. A city inhiding, waiting for inevitable invasion.

Let them come. Oskia would take on the entireTerekian army by herself if she must.

Thankfully, that wouldn't be necessary.

A soldier came running up and saluted Oskiaand her companions. "Ready to disembark, Your Graces."

"Thank you, Private," Lady Ralidya replied,and motioned for Oskia to lead the way off the ship.

As always, it felt good to be home. There wasnothing starkly different about the landscape between theircountries, and yet she always knew when she was in Cremisio.

Ignoring the bustle of soldiers disembarkingand organizing around her, Oskia led the way through the throng tothe figures waiting for her, still and silent. Soldiers, and attheir head was a figure she hadn't actually expected to see."Cohea? I'd heard you were captured."

"I was," Cohea replied, and opened his arms,hugging Oskia tightly when she walked into them. "I'm glad you'vemade it back safe." He drew back slightly. "Do I need to worryabout your motives? Sobeki is convinced you are…not going to greethim warmly."

Oskia flinched. "I still think handing anysort of power over is a fool's game, but I've signed the papers.How did you get free?"

"Let's save story time for when we're back atthe palace." His gaze flicked to the others, and Oskia introducedRalidya, Skye, and Corinta.

Cohea bowed over Corinta's hand, making herflush. "You look so much like Sobeki, it's startling. But come,please, all of you, we must get you to safety. We expect theTerekians to be here within the next few hours. Our every attemptat mediation has…not gone well." The set of Cohea's mouth, theshadows in his eyes, told the rest of the story.

He got them all into a sled and through thecity streets that were caked in snow and ice. Normally there wouldbe people to keep the streets clear and safe, but even the lampsthat were so vital during Eternal Night had not been lit.

Oskia shivered, despite the warmth of herfurs. She'd never seen the city so quiet, and she never wanted tosee it this way again. Her fingers twitched, aching for her sword,but now was hardly the time. Soon, though, soon she would showTerek just how badly they had overstepped.

"Oh, my," Corinta said as the palace cameinto view. "It really is as beautiful as rumored. The Palace ofRainbows…"

Oskia looked over the palace, a buildingshe'd seen all her life and which had ceased to be remarkable longago. Through new eyes, she could appreciate its beauty. The whitestone, the rare and costly colored glass windows, the towers andturrets… Legend had it that building the palace had taken nearlythirty years. Sobeki probably knew to the hour how long it hadtaken.

Her heart jumped and twisted before droppinginto her stomach. Sobeki… who had of course figured out what shewas doing and probably wouldn't even be angry with her, becausethat was Sobeki.

He would make a marvelous king.

And marry a beautiful prince or princess fromKenten. She'd had her chance with Sobeki, and she'd turned it down,She had no right to be upset about someone else getting what shethrew away.

As they passed through the gates along thecovered path of a protected courtyard, her stomach filled withbees. She ignored the hand Cohea offered to help her out and shookout the heavy folds of her winter robes before striding into thepalace. Servants immediately stepped forward to take her outergarments and offer hot mulled wine. "His Majesty says he will waitfor you in the green hall, and you're to take your time refreshingafter your journey, Your Grace."

Finishing off the wine, Oskia handed off theempty cup and said, "I will see him immediately."

"Of course, Your Grace." Palace staff werefar too well-trained to give away their thoughts, but Oskia didn'tthink she'd imagined the hint of amusement in the woman'svoice.

She made introductions and made certain theothers were swept off to suitable rooms to rest and warm up beforefinally striding off through the palace to the green hall, arelatively small meeting room that the late king had alwaysfavored…usually with Sobeki close to hand, assisting him in one wayor another.

The more she thought about it, the morelittle clues she was noticing far too late.

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