Page 20 of An Archer's Reckoning

The men were on their feet in a blink, offering respectful bows and words of condolence to their former Queen. Some glared openly at my golden gown, revulsion pouring through my Empathic Gift. I listened more to their emotions than their words, separating friend from foe. It was clearly time for new leadership withinmyCouncil.

“Good. You are all here,” I said smoothly. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”

The men looked at each other, confused.

Except Danai. He smiled and offered a congratulatory grin.

The men reluctantly settled back into their seats as I made a show of searching around the table. I asked innocently, “Where is my daughter? Should she not be here with the Council? She is Queen now.”

Wilfred’s mouth opened, but no words flowed out. He schooled his expression quickly, but his emotions gave him away.

“We don’t know, Your . . . Royal Highness,” the Sheriff said, clearly unsure which title to use.

For some reason, that amused me.

“Interesting. Two members of the royal family are assassinated, then you lose the new Queen? This is not going very well, gentlemen.” I turned to Captain Proctor standing behind the table by the bar. “Your job is protecting the Queen. Haveyoulost her, too?”

The massive man didn’t turn his head or make eye contact, but I couldfeelhis disquiet. “She vanished in the night, Your Royal Highness. Along with our two Melucian guests.”

First shock, then rage overtook me.

Irina stirred.

“Melucians? What inIrina’sname wereMeluciansdoing anywhere near my family? Are you people complete idiots? Does the number of soldiers streaming toward the border tell you nothing of our intentions toward our neighbor?”

Each of the men stared at the table, unwilling to meet my gaze.

Except Danai. He fought to hide another grin.

“Your . . .Majesty, the late King insisted these were simple war games. Surely, you can’t blame the men at Council for misunderstanding the Crown’s intentions?” Danai spread his hands wide. A trickle of amusement floated from him into me, and I resisted a smile of my own.

“Fine. Jess is gone. She has abdicated her responsibilitiesagain—which means she has also abdicated her throne. Fromthis point forward, until Kendall comes of age, I will assume the role of Queen Regent. The nation is at war, and a firm hand is required. Are there any objections?”

I looked from one man to the next until I’d made it around to Wilfred. The Sherriff shuffled uncomfortably in his seat and struggled to speak.

I cocked a brow. “Yes, High Sherriff? Something to say?”

The war in his mind was plain in his eyes. Through my Gift, I felt terror, grief, and . . . The man washidingsomething. I almost laughed at the thought of him trying to keep secrets from me.

“Sebastiano, you have been a friend to the Crown for so many years. You practically helped raise our children. Your boy was even wooing my daughter,” I said in as soothing a voice as I could muster. “What are you not telling me?”

He looked away, then toward Danai, then to Bril.

“I amhere, Sheriff.” My voice was a lash across his face. “Answer me. What are you not saying?”

“Jessia is Queen. She is your daughter. Please, don’t do this.”

I stared down. Of all the things . . . Sebastiano was loyal toJess. That could not be. She was impetuous, impertinent, and every other quality a teenage girl possessed that made her impossible to tolerate. She could never be Queen. The thought was preposterous.

Then I realized it wasn’t Jess to which he clung. He saw her nature as clearly as the rest of us. I could not count the number of conversations he, Alfred, and I had had over the years, usually over a bottle or two of strong wine, in which we wrung our hands over the girl’s latest tantrum.

It wasn’t Jess he sought to cherish. It was the principle lawmen prized above all else: order.

Of course.

“Sebastiano, rest assured, we will do things the proper way,” I soothed. “Once this war is won, I will call a conclave of nobles to codify her abdication and Kendall’s ascension. The line of succession is sacrosanct and should remain so.”

His knuckles whitened as his fists balled on the tabletop, and his gaze hardened. When he spoke, his words began as a hoarse whisper and grew into a writhing storm. “Youcan’tbe Regent. You murdered our King and Prince Justin. You should be arrested and tried for treason, not given power. You are a traitor to the Crown.”

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