Page 68 of Glow of the Everflame

When he reached for the unadorned chair opposite his father, Remis raised his palm. “You can leave us, son.”

Luther’s jaw ticked. “If this concerns the House Receptions, I should stay. As Warden of the Light—”

“As Warden, you do the Crown’s bidding. And until our young Queen is coronated”—he nodded to me with a tactful smile—“I wield the authority of the Crown. And I say your presence is not needed.”

Their glares locked, the tension between them palpable. At this proximity, their blood relation was undeniable. Their faces were strikingly similar, a mirror of mutual disdain. Luther’s skin was darker and more olive-toned, his hair night-black compared to Remis’s warm brown, and his pale eyes were all his own, but otherwise, their handsome features were separated only by age and the slash of Luther’s scar.

Luther glanced in my direction. I said nothing, wanting to see how the father-son feud would play out.

“Surely you don’t believe Her Majesty is incapable of handling a simple meeting with her Regent on her own,” Remis crooned.

A masterful strike. Perhaps I hadn’t given Remis enough credit for how clever he could be—or how dangerous.

“Of course not,” Luther said, the words clipped. He pushed away from the table. “I’ll leave you both to it.”

With a brief look at me that was loaded with warning, Luther was gone, and I was alone with Remis Corbois, Regent of Lumnos.

ChapterFifteen

“Forgive my son’s impertinence,” Remis said with a charming smile. He poured two goblets of wine and placed one in front of me. “When he was born, I named him after my elder brother, the late King, in the hopes they would grow close. It worked a little too well. Ulther took Luther under his wing and spoiled him terribly. Now the boy doesn’t know how to be told no.”

The edge of cruelty in Remis’s tone provoked an unexpected urge to defend Luther. Just yesterday I’d been happy to drive the wedge deeper between them. Why did I feel guilty it was working?

“Your son has been quite forthcoming with information today—thanks to your guidance, I’m sure,” I said. “But I’m far more interested in the informationyoucan provide.”

Remis gave a deferential nod. “Consider me an open book.”

I smiled prettily. “I may be young, but I’m not naive. I’m well aware I am ill prepared for these House Receptions. I’ll need your help to ensure they go smoothly.”

He pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m honored, Your Majesty. I would be happy to go in your stead and represent your interests.”

My smile strained. I didn’t believe for a second Remis had misunderstood my meaning. Perhaps he assumed I would be too flustered or embarrassed to correct him.

He was very wrong.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll be conducting my own meetings.” I took my goblet in hand and sank casually against the back of my chair. “But the counsel you give today will determine whether those meetings are successful. That will be instrumental to me in selecting my advisors.”

Remis didn’t falter, his smile holding steady. “Of course. The Receptions are an opportunity for the top echelon of Lumnos to learn more about you, establish new trade alliances, and—”

“And decide if they plan to Challenge me.” I arched a brow. “Thatis the real purpose, isn’t it? Not all the posturing and glad-handing.”

“With respect, Your Majesty, the posturing and glad-handing is precisely how the Houses will decide if they plan to Challenge you.”

I tilted my head but remained quiet, a silent order to continue.

“The Houses have little benefit in raising a Challenge,” he explained. “If they do so and fail, they not only lose the most powerful member of their House, but they also make an enemy of the Crown and House Corbois.”

I nodded. “And even if their Challenge succeeds, they still risk making an enemy of the ruling House, given that Luther would likely be my replacement if I am killed.”

Remis shrugged lightly. “Perhaps. My son’s magic was once believed to be unequaled. It appears he was severely overestimated. His status as the presumptive heir is not as certain as it once was.”

His implication—that I was so weak, my very existence as Queen diminished Luther’s strength—grated on me. “My power was unknown because I was raised among mortals, isolated from your kind.”

“Our kind,” he corrected.

My grip tightened on my goblet. “My upbringing was hardly normal. It’s unlikely there are others like me.”

But even as I denied it, I thought of the half-mortals Luther had smuggled to other realms. How powerful mighttheybe? Perhaps Remis had a point—if the magic had chosen an outsider like me to wear the Crown, one of the exiled children could be next.

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