Page 48 of Once the Skies Fade

“Your Majesty,” she said around a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

Males streamed out of the room behind her, and my stomach tightened at the thought of seeing Matthias again.

“He can’t compete.” The words rushed from my lips before I could stop them, louder than I intended.

Isa’s brows lifted slightly, but otherwise she showed no surprise at my words. Her calmness—normally welcome and appreciated—now grated on me as she responded. “He can, and he will.”

I stalked forward until I was nearly in her face and lowered my voice. “Do you even know who I mean?”

“It doesn’t matter who you mean. All have been registered. All have taken their oaths.”

“Undo it,” I hissed.

Sympathy filled my friend’s eyes. “You know I can’t.”

“Why would you let him enter?”

At this Isa glanced over her shoulder and lifted her chin, addressing the males standing awkwardly nearby. “Please return to your rooms. Dinner will be served at sunset.”

Everyone started to move, and I fisted my hands. “No!” I barked, and they all halted in place, their apprehensive gazes locked on Isa and me.

She reached for my elbow, but I yanked it away from her. “He is close to…”

I couldn’t say their names. All of this healing I’d thought I’d done, and I couldn’t even utter his family name.

Isa lighted a touch on my forearm and said, softly, “I know, Calla.”

Her words punched hard, sending me backwards half a step as if she’d actually hit me. “What? You knew and you still?—”

“I had to.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she raised a hand between us, stopping me from speaking. Leaning in close, her breath warmed my ear as she explained. “Perception is everything, especially right now. If we were to allow the other males of Emeryn but bar the general, simply because of his connections to the royal family, that would bolster the rumors that you are behind Brennan’s death. By letting him compete—as painful as it is—you strengthen your claim of innocence by showing there is no ill will between your families and no fear of retaliation.”

I stiffened at that last word, the blood in my veins chilling.

Could the Durands actually believe the absurd rumors? Would they truly seek to avenge Brennan’s death?

I was family.Wewere family. Surely they knew I would never do such a thing.

Clasping my trembling hands in front of me, I fought to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was a battle I was losing quickly. Admittedly I hadn’t behaved well at the burial, but they couldn’t actually see that as anything but intense grief.

Did they hate me?

Did they blame me?

The questions swirled around my mind like a brewing storm, but the more I pondered them, the more my fear and regret shifted into a bitter anger. I kept my hands clamped together now, not to steady their trembling, but to prevent myself from doing anything reckless and regrettable.

Isa eyed me carefully, quietly assessing me as she had done so many times since Brennan’s death. Securing my hands in hers, she offered a reassuring smile.

“I am not saying that is what I suspect, Calla.”

“But it’s a possibility.” My words came out a growled whisper, not from caution, but rage. Her chin lowered slightly in affirmation. If his family could believe—or even just entertain the idea—that I had a hand in killing my husband, did that mean… I glared suspiciously at my friend who still wrapped her hands protectively around mine.

She didn’t flinch under my silent accusation, and she held my gaze steadily. “I know you did not do it,” she whispered softly. “I know how much you loved him, and how much he loved you in return.”

Fresh tears stung the edges of my eyes, and I pressed my lips together as hard as I could to still them.

Isa lifted a hand to my shoulder, gently consoling me with easy strokes of her thumb. “I do not believe they would turn on you so quickly, even in their time of grief, but it would be unwise to ignore the potential risk.” She leaned closer, once more whispering into my ear. “Better to keep him close where we can watch him.”

I winced at the reminder that the dozen males remained with us in the courtyard, all their eyes watching us—watching me. Peering around Isa, I studied them. Some appeared nervous, their attention darting jerkily around the space as if they didn’t know where to look. Others looked amused, sneaking glances at each other with irritating smirks on their faces. Graham, his face twisted with concern, restlessly stood there as if fighting back the urge to run to my aid as he would have as advisor.

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