Page 53 of The Princess's Chosen

The laughter settled quickly though. Bryony was small, and she was pretty, but there was a heaviness about her when she stepped in front of a room of people and held their attention.

"I think we all know that my rise as king was unexpected," Bryony said, drawing stirs of conversation. "I understand some of you may question my right to the role. And I welcome your challenge," she said, cocking an eyebrow and looking in the direction the laughter came from.

"Ye'd wet yerself trying!" Scrapper shouted from the back, and this time the laughter was appreciative, Bryony smiling playfully.

"You know who I am," she said, and the room quieted. "But here, with you, I am yourkingand your king only. I want you to thrive, every bit as much as I want Kimmery to thrive. The farmers, your neighbors, the soldiers. The magicians and shifters hiding their talent, their second natures!"

The room held its breath as she paused, their eyes going wide, lips parted, waiting desperately for her promise.

"I refuse to turn a blind eye on men who steal from those weaker than them, less able to defend themselves, with less means," Bryony said, voice darkening, a warning going out with the first tease of potential. "The council has this country pinned under laws and taxes that suck its people dry without delivering the benefits they're intended for. Turn your gazes on them. Find your hands intheirpockets, not each other's."

"And where will all our thieving go, eh?" a voice called out from the crowd. "Up to your fine palace?"

"My palace needs no finishing, thank you very much," Bryony replied, some of the prim princess leaking out between the cracks of the roguish young woman, and it drew out appreciative and amused chuckles. "Your king needs no further wealth, she only needs your loyalty and yoursecrecy. Only your oath that the harm you do lands on the shoulders who bear the weight of tearing Kimmery down!"

"Aye!" the voices of the room cried out, mugs raised and sloshing in her direction, rowdy cheers and howls lifting.

From behind her, I could see the slow shift of her shoulders with her sigh, the room content with what she'd offered. I stepped up to her side as they turned in to one another, conversations rising noisily.

"Drink some with them, make them forget you wear that fine gown," I said in her ear, and Bryony nodded, turning and catching a quick kiss from my lips before diving into the crowd. I found Cresswell and my fellow Chosen at a table by the wall. Cresswell stood with my nod, moving after Bryony to keep her safe, as I walked over to join the others.

"So I take it we are stuck with the rogue?" Thao asked as I sat down next to him.

"Where's Owen?"

"Taking care of the horses. Or having a chat with them," Wendell said with a laugh. His cheeks were flushed, and it looked as though he'd refilled his ale again. He and Thao had run down the mountain as tigers, so at least I didn't have to worry about them managing their seats for the ride back up.

"Yes, Aric is returning as Chosen," I said to Thao, raising my eyebrow, challenging him to speak against it.

He only grinned at me and raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not about to object. It was bound to happen. Who could resist her?"

I turned back to the room, searching the crowd until I found her accompanied by Scrapper and Cresswell, being introduced to the thieves' court.

"She'll want every damned one of them at her coronation," I said fondly as she beamed at a deadly looking beast of a man who glowered at her, his scarred cheeks blushing.

"We still have to ensure that happens," Wendell said quietly. "This is certainly a risk."

"It might pay off," Thao said, surprising us both. "What? It's true. If this court is loyal, it can do work against the council Bryony would never get away with openly."

"And if it goes well, she'll build loyalty with the kind of citizens who don't usually think fondly on the monarchy," I said, watching Bryony giggle with a pair of pickpocketing fortune tellers, the snake around her throat winking at me in the light.

* * *

Aric rode with Bryony,his own horse following obediently behind his master as Aric held a sleeping Bryony against his chest, wrapped in his coat with him. We were nearly back to the castle, and the moon was high, the night turning sharp and cold.

Two tigers walked calmly on either side of my own horse, and an enormous dark bear shifted through the trees, warning away the predators of the woods. Owen rode along next to Aric, and I could see his breath in the air, big white puffs like smoke.

"Here it comes," Aric whispered, and together we all looked up in the sky.

They looked like stars at first, the first fat white flakes of winter coming down. Bryony stirred with Aric's nudges, and I smiled at her gasp as she looked up in time for snow to kiss her cheeks.

"But the harvests—" she said.

"Will be safe. The snow won't make it down the mountain," Owen promised.

"This will be their first warning before the frosts start," Aric said, and I watched with minor fascination to see the way he pressed his face into her jaw, taking the same deep breaths of her that Bryony took of the crisp air.

I'd seen Aric with Charlotte, and he'd always been affectionate, flirtatious. Where some men bemoaned their wives, made jokes of them, Aric had celebrated Charlotte. It'd been years since she died and I'd never seen them in their younger years, so I didn't know if this was the same, but it was good to see him being soft and sweet, for Bryony's sake but also for his. Maybe hehadbeen ready to let go of his crown, maybe the change would be a relief for him.

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