Page 44 of Of Song and Scepter
My mother tilts her head. “And what could be more important than getting to know the future queen? Tell me, Soren, what have you learned from your time with her?”
I learned all I needed to know in the first two days I spent with her. Aris is as I knew she would be, lustful and vain, but she’s pleasant enough to appease the kingdom. This is not the answermy mother is looking for, so I keep quiet as I search for a better excuse.
“Your Majesty, if I may—”
The queen raises her hand, and Clio snaps her mouth shut.
“Have you been spending time with herat all?” My mother’s glare is accusing, all-knowing.
“Not much, no.”
“This kingdom depends on you to do your duty, Soren. I have found you a match. You must secure it. And if you do not think the match isworthy, we must be sure of it. Am I clear?”
“Then do as Lord Almar suggested. Bring out that damned necklace and see if she bleeds.”
My suggestion lands in a silent room. Clio stiffens, her eyes narrowing. My mother’s mouth presses into a firm line.
“I will not resort to Lord Almar’s archaic measures when you have spent the past two weeks avoiding her,” the queen says.
She’s right. I’ve been avoiding my duty in favor of preserving my sanity.
“You’ll be pleased to hear I’m taking her out to dinner tonight,” I say, flexing my jaw to relieve the tension. I’d already been meaning to ask Aris officially, since I promised Enna I would.
“Excellent.” The queen brightens. “Then you can investigate Clio’s claims. The wedding festivities begin in less than a week, Soren. See if you can uncover a few secrets lest we make an embarrassment of this kingdom.”
What would the wicked handmaid look like, sitting in my favorite tavern, a little ale in her veins, surrounded by platters of raw meat? Would she smile at me again?
Chapter twenty-seven
Enna
Odissa grips my throat,pinning me against her chamber wall. I gasp as my eyes refocus. Round white teeth clench in front of my nose, her breath spilling over my face.
I struggle against her, but I’m half-awake and weary from my late-night wandering, and she’s grown in her strength. All I can manage is a few pathetic kicks, connecting with nothing but air.
“Talk,” she demands, squeezing. The curtains are out of reach, lit by the morning sun. I eye the chair next to her, and she frowns, kicking it out of the way.
With her other hand, she reaches behind me, unsheathing my knives one by one and tossing them across the room. One punctures the soft bedcover, and tufts of feathers scatter into the air.
“Talk,” she says again, pressing harder.
I cough against her hand, and my voice strains. “Hard to talk, like this.” Hard to use magic, either. I focus my intent, pushing a zap of lighting through my throat. Odissa’s hair statics, lifting from her scalp, but it’s all I can manage.
She throws me to the floor. I hit the marble hard, and pain sears through my aching body. “I heard you were with the prince last night. Alone in the kitchen. Explain.”
She pins a piece of my skirt to the ground with her foot. I reach for my waist belt, lifting the attachment point with fumbling fingers. She snarls and kicks my elbow. Pain explodes.
“Fuck, Odissa! That’s going to leave a mark.”
“Your gloves will cover it,” she says. “Ensure my every success. That is the oath you made. Have you forgotten the price if I fail?”
I glare up at her, hugging my arm to my chest.
“I don’t know about you, but becoming Tephra’s breakfast doesn’t sound like a beach walk to me.”
“And lying to an entire foreign court is, what? By comparison.” My voice rasps.
“She speaks!” Odissa narrows her eyes. “I haven’t talked to the prince in two weeks.Two fucking weeks, and you’re having a late night pow-wow with him in the kitchen.”
