Page 83 of The Uncrowned Prince

The name dropped into the room like an anvil. Shock was evident on every face but one—First Councilor Faraden’s expression remained utterly unchanged.

“Many might call that treason,” he said sternly, and as Vaniell held his gaze, willing the Irian to believe him, he almost missed the movement from the side of the room.

Without warning, Ambassador Grendish reached within his cloak and produced a dagger, darting towards Vaniell with a speed that belied his bulk.

“Traitor,” he snarled, and raised his arm to strike for Vaniell’s heart.

It was too late to move, too late to block. The knife was already falling and Vaniell could only watch as it glittered in the light…

And then flew from the ambassador’s grasp as Karreya intercepted him in a single, fluid lunge. After disarming him, she grasped the ambassador’s wrist and twisted it back until the entire room heard an audible snap.

Another twist, and his elbow separated with a loud pop.

Grendish screamed and fell to his knees, howling obscenities while he clutched his ruined arm.

And Karreya had not even really appeared to make an effort.

Was it too late to tell her that he loved her?

“Remove him,” Faraden said with a sigh, and as the Garimoran was dragged away by a pair of guards, Karreya glanced briefly up at Vaniell, as if to reassure herself that he was unharmed.

“I’m fine,” he said softly, smiling as he met her eyes. “Thank you.”

She nodded, her gaze oddly wistful before she turned and resumed her post.

He immediately wished he could call her back to his side, but his attention was claimed once more by Councilor Faraden.

“This accusation cannot simply be made without proof, no matter your identity.” The First Councilor held himself stiffly, but his gaze was… speculative. “What evidence do you offer?”

There was so much that he knew. So much that he’d seen. Evidence that would shock everyone in the room should he dare to say it aloud. Truths that no one else was yet ready to hear.

But it was Leisa who answered, as if she understood how difficult that question might prove. “We have more than enough evidence, Councilor, but it will take time to lay out the full scope of our suspicions. Kyrion can speak as one who spent ten years in the Garimoran court as an unwilling slave. I speak on behalf of Queen Evaraine and King Danric, whose own experiences corroborate these claims. And I bring word as well from Queen Allera.”

“She is also alive?” Faraden seemed both surprised and pleased by this discovery.

Though not as relieved as Vaniell had been when Leisa admitted the truth. He knew that his mother was gone, but at least Danric had not lost the woman he loved. At least Allera’s daughters would have many more years with their parents.

Leisa nodded. “She and Consort Valeric have been recovering under circumstances of the highest secrecy. Both Queen Allera and Queen Evaraine chose to conceal their status as a means of ferreting out the purpose behind these attacks.”

“Your ambassador also knew that something was amiss,” Vaniell added, recalling the cryptic words of the drunk man at the tavern who had recognized him.

I escaped, and I brought warning…

“I believe he may have even tried to tell King Trevelian before his death. But then he, too, was murdered by an assassin before he could carry the news to anyone else.”

Faraden did not seem quite so surprised as Vaniell might have anticipated.

“Actually,” he said, “our ambassador to Garimore did indeed return recently. We found a scrap of his final report, but when we attempted to ask him about it, he had already disappeared. It made little sense before today, but now…”

“A scrap?” Leisa queried.

“The report appeared to have been thrown into the fire in the king’s apartments the night he was assassinated,” Faraden confirmed. “Though whether it was by His Majesty or by the assassin…” He shrugged. “Perhaps now we will be able to get to the bottom of that incident as well.”

Around the room, feet began to shuffle nervously.

“I suppose I must ask before we proceed,” Faraden said, turning his attention to Vaniell once more. “What was your true purpose in coming here today? To warn us? To request aid? Or merely to discredit your father?”

If only the answer was a simple one. “From this point forward,” Vaniell replied soberly, “nothing will be so simple as that. For any of us, I fear. But for today, we came here with the primary purpose of pleading with Iria to protect her own sovereignty. To crown your new king, take a stand against Garimore’s meddling, and maintain the balance of the Five Thrones. This, in itself, would be a victory worth celebrating.”

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