Page 165 of Grave Situation

I fucking hate court.

We finally reach the palace’s rear gate and the guardhouse behind it, and two men come out to meet us. I’m not great with soldiers’ ranks, but even I can tell that the epaulets on the one to the right mean seniority, and sure enough, my guide salutes sharply. “Sir. This is Talon Silverbright, and he’s asked to see the queen.”

The senior officer’s hard gaze takes me in from head to toe. “You’re not dressed much like a dragon rider.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “No, I’m not.”

“I thought Lady Tavia was the rider. Aren’t you the mage?”

Grief hits me suddenly and harder than a runaway horse. Tia hated being referred to that way, but hearing it reminds me that she’s never going to get the chance to come back here. To be Lady Tavia, the retired dragon rider who doesn’t give a fuck for propriety and will teach all the court debutantes how to defendthemselves. That was her dream—when her body could no longer handle the rigors of being an active fighter, she and Leicht were going to divide their time between the City of Knowledge and here, where she could delight in being a perfect scandal. That life’s been taken from her too.

Keeping my face stoic, I say, “It would greatly surprise me if you weren’t already aware of my sister’s death.” He knows enough about us to be privy to court news… Come to think of it, his face is somewhat familiar. He’s probably the younger son of a noble that I’ve met before.

The harsh lines of his face soften with remorse. “I beg your pardon for my carelessness. I’m so very sorry for your loss. Lady Tavia was an exceptional fighter and good company.”

Suddenly, a memory rushes to the fore of my mind. “Fenin,” I blurt, searching his face for more clues. It was a long time ago, during the queen’s one and only visit to our family estate. He was a young soldier then, but kind enough to answer all Tia’s questions and demonstrate some self-defense techniques. She’d mentioned running into him a few times when she and Leicht were on errands here. “Riverford?” I’m not as certain of his family name, but he nods.

“You remember me. I didn’t think you would, after all this time. We barely crossed paths.”

“Tia spoke well of you.” It’s all I need to say.

He bows his head briefly in acknowledgment of the compliment. “You’re here to see your mother?”

“Yes. Her Majesty as well, if she’s receiving, and Master Kathion.” I suppose Ishouldreport. The queen and her court mage are well aware of the situation and my quest, which is now doubly important to them, with so many zombies inside Rebithia’s borders. “And my father.” The last comes out grim and hard.

Fenin nods curtly. “Let me take you to the chief steward, and he’ll show you where you can wash up while I send word to the queen.”

A wash sounds divine. Maybe I can talk the steward into a supper plate too. “Lead on.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

I don’t even getto finish the fancy sandwiches the steward sent up before the queen’s summons comes. What is it with royalty and their habit of interrupting my meals?

At least I got to bathe, though, and the steward thoughtfully found me some clean clothes to wear. Somehow, none of us considered that I might need to change clothes at some point, so I didn’t bring any. An oversight, for sure.

The page who was sent to fetch me leads me to my mother’s apartments, which is interesting. Does the queen not want anyone to know she’s meeting with me? Or is this just her way of keeping things unofficial?

The page scratches at the door, then opens it and leans inside. A moment later, he stands back and motions for me to enter. As soon as I do, the door closes behind me.

My mother rises from where she was sitting beside the queen on a plush sofa. It’s been some time since I visited her here, but I’d swear the décor was different last time.

“Talon,” she says, and her usually melodic voice is strained. Now that I think of it, her face is rather set, and her eyes are a little puffy. She extends her hands toward me, and I cross the room to take them and kiss her cheek.

“Mother. How are yooooo—” The word becomes strangled as she throws herself against me, her arms wrapping around my neck as she sobs into my shoulder. Shocked, I meet the queen’s gaze over her downturned head.

“Your mother grieves Tavia most deeply,” she says quietly. “She fears for you also.”

I’m speechless. It’s not that I thought Mother wouldn’t grieve for Tia—I’ve always known she loves us in her distant, let-nanny-do-the-parenting way. While my father has always been an unloving ass, Mother is just… busy. I’m not certain she truly wanted children to begin with, but it’s not that she was ever unkind. I just didn’t expect this flood of emotion.

Awkwardly, I pat her back. “Thank you for seeing me, Your Majesty,” I say to the queen. My court manners might be rusty and dirty and not all that good to begin with, but even I know it’s inexcusable to be in a room with a monarch and not acknowledge them.

Queen Nyana tilts her head in a regal nod. She hasn’t changed much since the last time I saw her—a few more lines around her eyes, maybe, and the golden blond of her hair is nearly all silver now. “I regret that it’s under such vile circumstances, Lord Talon.”

I automatically open my mouth to say, “Just Talon,” but then catch myself. One doesn’t correct a queen over something so minor as what she calls one. Especially when she’s not wrong. “So do I, ma’am.” I hesitate. “I suppose I should apologize on behalf of the family for my father and uncle and assure you that I had no part in it.”

To my surprise, she chuckles. “I’ve heard enough stories about your relationship with your father to know you wouldn’t have part in anything he did, no matter what it was. Besides, you forget that I’m privy to where you’ve been and why.”

Before I can reply, my mother lets out a fresh sob, and I wince.

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