Page 133 of The Threadbare Queen

Luc grinned at her. “They obviously like dangerous women.”

When they reached the line where Bartholomew was waiting, though, flirting with Massi seemed to be the last thing on his mind.

“What just happened?” The high-general’s aide got straight to the point.

“I’m not sure of all the details, but Lieutenant Hurst and two of your archers crept up on our Jatan prisoners tonight and quietly killed a few of our guards. With the guards on one side out of the way, he managed to speak to General Carvill and persuade him to ask one of the guards on the other side of the area they were being held in to call me, then they killed or tried to kill all the other guards and set the prisoners free.

“When I arrived, they shot the guard who’d gone to fetch me in the heart, and tried to kill me. I killed Hurst and one of the archers. The other is now a prisoner with the rest. We found Carvill’s body among the trees, and he wasn’t killed by us, so I’m guessing that was Hurst, too. Oh, and we rounded up most of the escapees, but I’m guessing a few made it to your camp, which is why you’re here?”

“Shit.” Bartholomew spun around, facing his camp, and then turned back. “This wasn’t any plan of ours.”

Luc studied him for a long moment. “I’m prepared to believe that. Hurst has looked after his own interests since I first met him. The meeting is still on for this morning. Let’s get it done early, so we can all go home.”

Bartholomew stared at him. “You’re being serious?”

“What part of me looks like I want to stay here another second?”

Bartholomew blew out a breath that was half laughter, half relief. “Fair enough. I’ll see you at our little fire pit for breakfast. Everyone brings their own food and drink.”

“I think that will be best.” Luc started to turn, and then stopped. “Oh, the queen arrived earlier this evening. So she will be present and able to sign the treaty herself, rather than use me as proxy.”

“The queen?” Bartholomew frowned. “The queen of Kassia?”

“The queen of Kassia,” Luc agreed. “See you in a few hours.”

* * *

“I still can’t decidehow that went.” Ava looked down at her hands and noticed for the first time how thin her wrists were. “I felt like a child playing dress-up.”

“You behaved and looked like a warrior queen,” Luc said.

The tone of his voice told Ava that he was slightly wary of her mood, and she guessed her nerves at the first treaty she’d signed as queen of Kassia had made her edgy.

The document was sealed, both parties had a copy, but even hours later she still felt a little sick.

After the Rising Wave had taken Fernwell, and by extension, the whole of Kassia, both she and Luc had slowly worked out a peaceful transfer of power from her to a council was not going to happen in a hurry. Not when doing so risked undoing all the gains they had fought so hard to attain.

So she had committed Kassia to a truce with Jatan, agreeing to Kassia’s withdrawal of their claim to the Jatan’s mines. In exchange, Jatan committed to paying reparations for their raids and staying on their side of the border, unless they asked and were granted permission.

“The look on Baclar’s face.” Massi was on her other side, and she chuckled softly. “He acted as though we’d just dressed up a foot soldier and said she was queen, and then you gave him that haughty look and he changed his tune almost straight away.”

That had been a touch and go moment, Ava conceded. “Some of it might have been Kikir’s indignation. He was very convincing when he swore I was the queen.”

“The job would certainly have been harder if you had arrived to the meeting in those ancient pants and old wool jacket of yours,” Massi said. “Good thing we had enough clothes among the women to dress you up to at least look like a fighter.”

“What did Baclar pull you aside to ask you afterward?” Ava looked over at Luc.

“He wanted to ask about some embroidery he found on the underside of his shirt,” Luc said. “I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about.”

Ava’s shoulders tensed, but then she remembered she had been invisible when she’d done the sewing. No one could point the finger at her.

“Did he accept that?” Massi asked.

“He didn’t press the subject, if that’s what you mean. He simply said it was exquisite work, and he was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before.”

“Well, they aren’t our problem any more.” Massi sounded relieved.

“Grimwalt still is.” Luc had told Ava that Massi had volunteered to go to Grimwalt and deliver messages of warning from her to the representatives she knew had been at court a few years ago, before she’d been captured by Herron and locked away.

---