Page 88 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
“What’s this?” Tyghan asked, walking into Lir Rotunda with his officers on his heels. Their heavy boots echoed across the dark slate floors, and the grumbling that circled the room instantly quieted. Tyghan noted the fullness of the chamber. It wasn’t just the high-ranking ten who met every week but, disturbingly, all thirty members of the council. Every head turned toward Tyghan as he pulled off his cloak and threw it onto an empty chair. “A full council meeting without the king? I’ve only been gone four days. You couldn’t wait?”
“An emergency council meeting,” Lord Csorba answered.
“And just what is thisemergency?” he asked, as if he hadn’t heard the wordskill her. He wanted Csorba to say it to his face.
Lord Csorba reached for a stack of papers, but Tyghan stepped forward, his hand angrily swiping the air. Papers on the table flew in an explosive, angry gust, swirling to the floor as a blast of heat flashed across the room. Hair, fur, and robes ruffled in the wake of Tyghan’s fury. “I don’t need to see your papers!” he shouted. “I asked you a question, Csorba! Kill who?”
“I think you know who he’s talking about,” Lord Alistair said, rising to his feet. “That woman. The one you scooped up and so gallantly carried to her chamber just days ago.”
Lord Alistair wasn’t even there at the time, nor Csorba, but the rumors had obviously been passed around like a dish of licentious candy.
“I carried her because she was unconscious,” Tyghan countered. “She couldn’t walk.”
“Anyone could have taken her.”
“And I happen to be anyone. Am I not, Lord Alistair?”
He reluctantly dipped his chin in acknowledgment.
“Then sit down,” Tyghan ordered. Lord Alistair complied, sinking into his chair.
Tyghan’s searing gaze circled the table. “Who called this meeting?”
“I did,” Lady Barrington replied. She shrugged dismissively. “Someone needed to. In light of the direct attack on the palace and the recent developments—”
“Call it what it is, Lady Barrington!” Tyghan said. “You’re plotting to kill a recruit who might very well be our savior. I’d call that kind of plotting treason.”
Lord Csorba came to life again, empowered by his fellow council members. “Savior!” he spat, the word sounding like poison on his lips. “Our reasons for calling the meeting are not treasonous but sound and judicious! This recruit you brought into our midst hasn’t been seen in four days. Not a glimpse! She conspires, I tell you! We all know where her true loyalties lie. And now we know there’s magic within her that could be devastating for Danu. Why wait until she’s mastered it so she can kill us all? Her absence from festivities speaks for itself! She is not one of us!”
Before Tyghan could respond, Eris jumped to his feet, his face contorted with rage, a rare sight on the reserved counselor. “I told you, Csorba! Miss Keats is in shock, not conspiring. Four days ago, she believed she was mortal. An inconsequential birthmark on her back has transformed into something ugly and frightening. She’s barely eaten in four days and is hardly in the mood to be entertained by your fatuous antics at festivities! I will not tell you again, stop with your conspiracy theories or—”
“Or what? What will you do, Eris?” Csorba snarled back. “Throw your useless book of rules at me?”
Eris’s eyes were sharp glass. “Laws set down by the gods? They are what we live by, Csorba. Don’t underestimate my power to use them.”
“Careful, Lord Csorba,” Melizan warned. “It’s not just his book of rules you need to fear. I’m sure Madame Chastain has another mirror in need of garish decoration, and Eris does hold sway with her.”
Madame Chastain shot Melizan an icy glance.
“Stop,” Sloan groaned, finally joining the conversation. “Everyone, just stop. Let’s not be hasty with all this talk of killing the girl. She may prove to have no useful magic at all—just a hideous creature on her back. On the other hand, she might turn out to be useful in another way. As a hostage.”
The room quieted. “Only as alast resort, of course,” he added.
Tyghan stared at Sloan, the air punched from him. Those were his exact words. And Sloan had just proposed them in front of an entire council that was ravenous for action. Tyghan’s eyes darted to Kasta, ready to accuse her. Sloan didn’t choose those words by chance. She shook her head in denial, her brows pinched with confusion.
But if she didn’t tell him, who did? She was the only one—
“Actually, I’m surprised it hasn’t been said before now,” Sloan continued. “Surely, it’s occurred to someone else as a way to save Cael. She is the Darkland monster’s daughter, after all. And Kormick only wields power by the monster’s hand. Without her, he is only a demigod leading a limited fae force. What about you, Tyghan? Didn’t you think of it as a way to save your beloved brother too?”
Every muscle in Tyghan hardened to stone. Sloan knew it had occurred to him. Tyghan reluctantly nodded. “Yes . . . I thought of it.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when whispers of approval circled the room.He has a plan. A backup plan. A good plan.
“Of course you thought of it,” Sloan added. “Any good strategist would.”
“But I only thought of it as a last resort.”
“As it should be,” Sloan agreed, but the hint of a satisfied smile creased his eyes.
