Page 18 of Queen of Legends and Lies
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Serle’s voice drips with insincere gratitude as we approach the Council Tower.
I’ll go to this meeting. I’ll sit and listen to their fears and their ideas. And then I’ll make my move. Because waiting has never been my style. Not when there’s a war brewing on the horizon, and not when the person I love most is counting on me to bring him home.
Chapter Seven
The door swings wide, and Serle ushers me in with a flourish of his black wings, as if he’s opening the stage curtains for the star of the show. Not feeling much like a leading lady, I try to glide into the council chamber unnoticed.
Fat chance of that happening.
All eyes track me as I search for a vacant chair. Without missing a beat, Serle waves me toward the spot beside Alannah.
Rafe continues his report, a hint of impatience flicking across his handsome face as I cross to my seat. “…and the main well is filled to the brim.”
That catches my attention. Good news is always a relief. I slide into the cushioned chair beside the dowager queen.
“The main well is replenished?” I lean forward, palms flat on the table, scanning the faces around me for more clues. That well was on its last dregs.
“Indeed, Your Highness.” Duke Bron’s smile is a genuine, welcome relief. “It’s been running low for years. We were about to commission water elementals to find us a new source, but it seems the gods have favored us with their magic.” His smooth cheeks flush with excitement, and a few others nod their heads vigorously, concurring with his sentiment.
“Thank the gods.” Duchess Breann presses her fingers to her lips as if she still can’t believe it.
“Your Highness,” Fenton rubs the back of his neck, wincing like he has a crick, “you may not be aware, since it’s been going on for years, but this has been a building problem for us.”
Nira nods in agreement, a grateful smile playing on her lips.
Alannah pats her hand together in silent applause. “Three or four smaller wells wouldn’t have sufficed to replace the great reservoirs of old. This is indeed fortunate.”
Fortunate? Yes, but also bizarre.
My mind races, thoughts flitting between hope and suspicion. Reservoirs don’t just fill up overnight without some kind of magic involved. And magic users abound. If magic was enough to solve the issue, surely they would’ve taken those steps years ago. Yet all the councilors seem to be treating this as some happy coincidence and nothing more, ready to move on to the next subject in the agenda.
“You first noticed the full well this morning?” I tap a finger on the table, not quite prepared to let go of my doubts. It’s not every day you wake up to find your kingdom’s biggest well mysteriously replenished. Is this some sort of trick?
“Indeed, right at dawn.” Vicar Moise steeples his fingers, his voice filled with a mix of pride and confusion. “A servant came to draw water and found it overflowing.”
I sit back, crossing my arms. Something like this doesn’t happen without reason. I glance at Dalya, catching the subtle furrow of her brow under her short magenta hair. She looks like she’s thinking the same thing I am.
This is too good to be true.
“Overflowing wells and no explanation.” I study Rafe to see if he has anything to add, but he simply stares back at me with uninterested eyes. “Let’s hope whatever caused this is on ourside. Did anything else strange happen? Lake’s running dry? Land shifting? After all, water doesn’t come from nowhere.”
Serle’s eager expression fades, his pale blue eyes going flat as I dare to ask questions.
Rafe pulls a stack of papers closer, and after shoving his hand through his thick brown hair, starts rifling through them. “A goldsmith’s entire stash of gold melted down. There’s a conversation starter. The corner of his shop is also singed, but there are no other signs of fire. Only heat.”
Chewing my lip, I try to figure out how these things could be related. Or if they could be some form of sabotage against us. “Is the goldsmith important to the palace’s operations?”
“No need to worry, Your Highness,” Rafe drawls, his tone bordering on disrespectful. “The royal crown and jewels are already secured. We’ll speak of your coronation ceremony in a moment. The crown, the robes, everything.” His lips twitch with what might be a smile under that brusque exterior, but I’m certain it’s at my expense and not for true amusement.
The jewels for the coronation? That’s what he thinks I’m worried about?
Seriously?
I school my features into something resembling calm. “The coronation is not our top priority.”
“But we’re running out of time.” To my left, Duchess Breann leans in, her whisper as soft as the feathers on her silver and emerald wings. “They’ll want to know if you want the crown placed on the front, top, or back of your head.”
I stare at her, a laugh bubbling up in my throat at the absurdity of it all. As if the placement of a crown matters when Sterling is still corrupted, the drachen are getting stronger, and mysterious events are happening within our very walls.
