Page 67 of Of Nine So Bold

Whipping around, I strode from the room and stalked through the corridors, silently summoning more of the Voidborn bastards to join me in the main dining hall. My servants had made quick work of the preparations, arraying a feast on the long table that served as the center point of the room. Chandeliers hung overhead, resplendent with candles and crystals, while gold-lined plates filled the long spread beneath them, awaiting the delicacies that would emerge from the kitchen when I gave the order.

The Voidborn mocked, but they understood nothing. Victory was mine.

And only one food would be served tonight.

“Queen Melisandre of Aneira,” announced the servant at the door when I entered, and to his credit, the man’s voice only shook a little.

Around the table, the lords looked over at me. Several tried to stand up out of respect, only to be tsked and tugged down by their glaring counterparts.

Arrogant fools. As if their displeasure could possibly matter.

“You think to host a party as your city lies in ruins,queen?” called a lord near the head of the table. His thinning, gray strands were slicked over the top of his balding head, each one desperately trying to portray itself as being still among all its brethren, rather than a lonely, useless pretender to a crown of hair. Like all the other lords here, he wore robes that likely cost more than a peasant family would see in its lifetime, trimmed by luxurious furs and threads of gold. Though I knew he hadn’tearnedhis title—it was an inheritance, same as many others here, and privately the king had confessed the man irritated him to no end—he was still the lord of a powerful province in the Aneiran economy. His position at the table would have been one of honor in the late king’s court.

I scarcely cared enough to bother remembering his name.

“I think to do as I wish, Lord Antieron,” I replied, pacing past the long line of foolish men on my way to the chair at the head of the table. “And I wish to speak to those who believe themselves in charge of this nation. Are you suggesting there is someone more important to whom I should speak?”

The man scowled, giving a harrumph of displeasure. But he could hardly argue, since doing so would simply make him look like even more of a fool.

I suppressed a smile. “Very well then.” Turning, I seated myself at the head of the table, eliciting several more disgruntled looks from the lords. By their view, I should have left this seat empty, awaiting whatever next male would take the late king’s position.

Aneira would never have another ruler besides me. Neither would this world.

A spiral of darkness drew my eye to the empty metal goblet before me. Alaric’s grinning face swirled into view on its side. “But you only scratch the surface, pet. Remember how itcouldbe.”

Snapping my eyes back to the lords, I tossed a napkin over the goblet, smothering him. “Gentlemen,” I said calmly. “I am certain it has escaped none of your notice that our nation was recently under attack.”

“Was?” Lord Antieron looked at his fellow lords incredulously. “You sit here surrounded by thesethings,looking halfway on the path to being one of them, and you dare to claim the attack has ceased?”

Around the room, the orcs and other Voidborn-possessed creatures shifted position slightly, hissing-clicks passing between them, and though I knew the lords did not understand a thing, several of the men still glanced around warily.

I smiled. “Thesethings, as you call them, answer to me now. I took command of them from the one who dared to torch our fair city, and now they do as I wish.” At my glance, the Voidborn stepped forward.

Alaric’s voice was muffled. “But how much more could they do?”

My smile unfazed, I shoved the goblet off the edge of the table, ignoring it as it clattered to the floor. “So yes, Lord Antieron, I say the attack has ceased. I willed it so. And as for your insinuation that my appearance is somehow not becoming of a fair queen, well…”

My fangs slid past my lips.

Lord Antieron recoiled while around the room, several lords gasped, and others shoved to their feet. They raced for the door only to find it locked and bolted from the outside.

From the goblet on the floor, Alaric’s muffled laughter rose.

In spite of myself, my lip twitched. Illusion or not, that dead Voidborn bastard had a point. Itwasamusing to watch the vermin run.

“You trap us here?” one of the lords demanded, a note of panic beneath his polished tone.

“Deceiver,” Lord Antieron spat.

I made a dismissive sound and then gestured to the Voidborn-possessed creatures beside a small door to my right. One of them pushed past the opening, returning a few moments later leading several servants who carried silver trays.

Each platter held a mound of glistening red apples.

The effect on the room was immediate. Even the lords trying to escape past the locked doors suddenly paused, their gazes fixing upon the glistening fruits.

In silence, the servants placed the platters on the table and then left the room.

“What… what is this?” Lord Antieron asked, his attention also transfixed by the fruits. His face twitched as if he was at war with himself while his fingers wrapped around the ends of the arms of his chair, digging into the plush velvet.

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