Page 45 of Court of Bone and Amethyst

“We should leave,” I say, striding across the room, my eyes locking onto hers.

“There’s still a chance we can salvage this.” Sarielle crosses her arms over her chest. “Leaving now will only make us more enemies.”

“Staying could get us killed,” I growl.

Her eyes flash. “Leaving could get us killed, too. We don’t exactly have many options, Zyren.”

“The rulers of this place are not the same loyal fae I knew years before. These two clearly supplanted the former lord and lady and proclaimed themselves sovereign.”

“I share your concerns. But let’s go to dinner, see if we can negotiate. And stop barbing them.” She narrows her eyes. “Telling them they owe me allegiance isn’t going to get us anywhere. I have no army, no throne, nothing to offer them unless I can get them to see the benefits of a partnership.”

“But they do owe you their loyalty.” The muscles in my jaw roll, stretched so tight they feel like they might snap. “It istreasonnot to help you.”

“Not everyone believes in honor as you do,” she says softly. “We win this only with a soft approach. You see how the baronacts. They don’t care who I am. They only care about what I can give them if we beat Avonia. We must convince them of her threat, to them specifically, enough so that they’ll be willing to fight against her. And then we must convince them that me sitting on my throne, and them sitting on theirs, will reap them vast benefits. Otherwise, I can’t give them anything they haven’t already taken for themselves.”

I pace back and forth in front of the windows, shadows spinning off my fingertips in agitation. I’d barely been able to keep myself in check in the throne room. I don’t like it, but Sarielle is right. It’s treacherous to stay here in this viper’s nest, but it’s just as dangerous leaving. We’d barely made it here alive.

“We do have one surprise up our sleeves,” I say, pausing in my pacing. “There should be a small resistance gathered by now at Valor’s Keep. Refugees from the Court of Nightmares and Court of Lions both, plus others sympathetic to our goal. When I was in Frost Haven, I sent word to my Order as well. It could be a bargaining chip in our negotiations, if the king and queen know we have warriors to aid in the battle against Avonia. I fear it won’t be many, but those that are left are good fighters.”

Sarielle chews her lower lip. “I suppose we can go there if negotiations fail with the rulers here.”

“It’s decided, then.” I lock gazes with her. “We go to the dinner tonight, and if you succeed in convincing the northerners to help us, we stay. If you do not, we return south.”

She nods. “Agreed.”

I reach out and rest a hand on her shoulder. “Let us hope you succeed. The armies of the north are the only ones vast enough to challenge Avonia. The resistance forces gathering south can only hold her off for so long.”

“I can be very charming,” she says with a sly smile. “You, on the other hand… perhaps you should stay in your room.”

My face scrunches into a scowl. “That, my queen, is absolutely not an option. If you think I’m going to let you go to dinner alone with those schemers, you are sorely mistaken.”

“I suggest, then, that you spend time before this evening practicing your very best manners.” She hooks me in her golden gaze. “We’re only going to have one shot at this.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sarielle

Aknock on thedoor interrupts us, and Zyren goes to open it, his posture rigid as if he expects an assassin. But it’s only Owyn and Merla. We let them in and catch them up on our plan.

“I’ll send word to my family as well,” Owyn says. “Our warriors are few, but we can join the others at Valor’s Keep.”

I stride over to the huge fire, standing in front of it to warm my hands. After weeks of traveling through ice and snow, constant cold that seeped into my very bones, the heat from the flames feels like some long-lost magic. I try to remember the warm, sunny days back at the Amethyst Palace, my rare jaunts to the valley with Lilette. Everything seemed so carefree back then, even with the looming presence of the priest. I’d been so sure of my future. Now, I can’t see further than a day at a time.

Merla joins me by the hearth, and I offer her a smile in greeting. “It feels wonderful, doesn’t it?”

She nods. “I’ve never been anywhere this cold. I’m from the deserts to the south. This place doesn’t seem natural.”

I cock my head. “The deserts—I thought only the Septarus lived there.”

Her cheeks darken, and it’s not just a flush from the flames. “That’s true. I was born a slave of House Septarus.”

My eyebrows stretch to my hairline. “I didn’t realize they had slaves in Valaron.”

“Only the Septarus keep them.” Her lips turn down in a grim frown.

“How did you escape? And find Owyn?”

“He found me,” she says softly. Her gaze darts up and across to where he’s standing by Zyren, speaking in a low voice. “I was traded to a slaver that lives near the Court of Bone. Owyn spotted me one day when he was making one of his rare supply runs from the castle. Sensed my magic.”

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