Page 39 of The Kingdom's Crown

"Don't imagine it, Mother, it happened! My Chosen was stabbed twice—" my mother gasped, clapping her hand over her mouth at this news, "—protecting me. I believe the maid. She was threatened and bullied and forced to this action. I drew the words from her myself, and she was not happy to give them. Powerful peoplepreyedon her in an attempt to fashion a weapon against me and—"

"Oh!" My mother began to weep, and I wasn't sure if the sound my grandmother made was a cough or a huff of annoyance.

"They were very nearly successful in doing serious harm to me, my heart if not my actual life," I snapped and exhaled roughly.

"Peony, you and I have discussed, at length, the great amount of misinformation being slipped in our ears," my grandmother began.

"I really do think it might all be a misunderstanding," my mother objected, sniffling.

"Why? Because Thomlinson said so?" Grandmother asked, and my mother sighed and fell silent. "We've given the council too much power. Over Kimmery and possibly over the queen's line."

My mother's face scrunched in thought, turning to the light falling through the slightly shuttered window. "I wish you hadn't passed the crown to me so young."

"You were with child, continuing our line. It was natural," my grandmother said, and they reached for each other, the first moment of quiet and apparently genuine affection. "And look at what you created. Bryony will make a fine queen. She is sharp, she loves Kimmery, and she sees it clearly."

I blushed as they both turned faint smiles to me. Had I ever been offered this kind of praise before? Certainly not from them both. Not when it weighed so heavily on the future.

"What shall I do then, daughter?" my mother asked me softly.

"I have one small request at the moment. I would like my Chosen, Wendell Pope, to be appointed to the council. The crown has no real influence on their number, and I think the link may be a valuable and small change."

"Your Chosen?" Mother frowned and tilted her head at me. "But…wouldn't you rather it was his brother? What if he is busy when you desire him, or his thoughts are occupied with…whatever it is the council manages, rather than with you?"

I laughed, surprised and sudden, and then fell quiet as I realized this was anactualconcern to my mother. "Wendell is every bit as occupied with what the council is doing as I am, and much better prepared to defend my interests there. I love him dearly, as I do all my Chosen, but I also trust him absolutely. There is no one else I would prefer to take his place."

My mother looked between us, brow furrowing. "But what if you shouldneedhim while he is in a meeting?" she asked.

I blinked at her, puzzled at the idea that I might be suddenly struck by an immediate urge to fuck Wendell while he was away, and then shrugged softly. "I shall wait."

My mother burst out in giggles, but they faded quickly as she realized I was serious. "What an odd notion, Bryony."

I choked on my scoff, and Grandmother sighed, patting her daughter's hand. "It seems so to me as well, but I am quite convinced of the strength of Bryony's Hunger. And there will always be her other men to occupy her if she grows impatient."

My mother hummed and smiled at that, satisfied with the solution. I bit my tongue. As much as I loved and desired Wendell as easily as breathing, I didn't understand my mother's concern. He was more to me than a convenient body when he suited my mood. My desire for him came from his mind and warm heart first, and longing for him when I didn't have him at hand was a sweet feeling, not an irritating one.

"Very well, I will have Ame—one of my ladies draft a note to Thomlinson to let him know. He's been such a pest lately, so perhaps this will distract him."

"A pest? On what topic?" I asked.

"Oh, what doesn't he want lately," my mother said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Is it to do with me? Or with the shifters? Taxes in the north?" I pressed.

"Pft, I barely give it my attention," my mother scoffed.

I ground my jaw, and my grandmother heaved a sigh that quickly turned into a coughing fit that demanded our focus. I wrapped an arm around Grandmother's seizing shoulders, Mother helping to sit her up as she struggled through wheezes and hacks, the sounds growing thinner as she failed to catch a breath.

The door to the bedroom burst open, Vincent rushing for my grandmother.Magic,I thought in reflex, as I had with Cresswell when he'd been stabbed. I forgot what Aric had already told me and splayed my fingers against my grandmother's knobby spine. My grandmother needed air, room in her lungs to breathe, and I pushed my power into her skin, through her ribs. I was met with painful, sharp friction. My hand spasmed and cramped, and I yanked it away the moment my grandmother whined.

Aric and Wendell, who had been waiting with the men in the other room, rushed toward me, and I stepped away from the bed, pushing into Aric's chest.

"I forgot! Oh, I forgot the magic," I whispered, staring as Vincent helped my grandmother stretch upright, tipping her chin back. She calmed slowly, tiny gasps catching in her throat, one by one until she could take a full breath.

"It's all right. See, she's recovering," Aric answered against my ear, pressing a kiss to the spot.

My mother clutched Grandmother's hands, eyes fixed desperately on her face, waiting for the fit to pass.

"I'm sorry, Peony," Vincent said gently, pulling my grandmother into his chest as she trembled. "I think that better be all for this morning."

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