Page 74 of A Crown of Lies

But Rowan knew better. Rixxis may have been inexperienced, but once she came out of her shell, she might surprise even him.

Twenty-Two

“PrinceMichal,”Erissaidand bowed her head as well as she was able. Pregnant as she was, it was impossible to manage a proper curtsey. Hopefully, he would understand.

The prince smiled warmly and bowed, offering his hand. “Please, sit,” he said, ushering her to a chair.

The familiar clunk of Isaac’s armor followed her to the nearest chair. They were in a sitting room in the prince’s private wing of the palace, a room of muted grays and dark velvety reds. The chair he showed her to was comfortably plush enough that Eris nearly let out a relieved sigh as she sank into it.

“Would you like some tea? I heard you were fond of cheese and pickles as well, and had some brought up for you.” The prince stepped aside, gesturing to the tray of snacks and the pot of steaming tea.

Eris’s mouth watered at the sight of it all. She hadn’t been able to eat a proper meal in weeks with the baby crowding out her stomach, and so she’d been living on snacks. Isaac and the others kept insisting that she eat greens and meat to keep her strength up, even if the smell of most meat made her stomach turn nowadays. All she wanted was cheese and pickles.

Prince Michal lifted the platter and held it out. “Your knight is, of course, welcome to test anything and everything.”

Isaac did exactly that, taking a random selection of cheese, two pickles, and a sip of tea before declaring it all fine. Eris immediately took a small plate and began filling it with cubes of yellow and white cheese and several pickles, while Michal retreated to his couch.

He smiled and folded his hands. “It’s salted herring with my step-mother. The little fishes smell awful, but she can’t get enough of them, apparently.”

Eris stopped eating long enough to ask politely, “How far along is she?”

“Shouldn’t be long now,” Michal said with a shrug. “The healers say any day. I’m told you have another month or two. I hope all this unpleasantness is behind us long before your time is upon us. I can’t imagine bringing a child into the world as it is today.”

“And yet tomorrow seems so promising,” Eris said, “if only we can find a way to work together.”

Michal frowned, eying her with a strange intensity. He glanced at the knight behind her and back down. “Your Grace, I—”

“Eris, please.” She’d grown weary of always being called by her title. Sometimes, it felt as if her entire existence had been reduced to her crown and people forgot she was a person.

The prince’s smile was tight. “Queen Eris. I am not fond of small talk. I asked to speak with you concerning a delicate matter.”

She sat up straighter, passing the plate of food to Isaac. “And what matter is that?”

He looked at Isaac again briefly before returning his attention to her. “Your impending marriage to Ruith the Crow.”

“What about it?”

“I would like for you to call it off and marry me instead.”

Eris stared at the prince across from her, her stomach turning over. “That is a bold request. Why would I ever do that?”

“Many reasons,” said the prince, crossing one leg over the other. “There are murmurs of discontent even among your own people, fears that you would become nothing but the Crow’s puppet queen.” He held up a hand when she started to object. “However false those accusations are, they are getting louder. You know as well as I do that kings and queens rule only with the permission of their subjects. I ask you, what would become of you and your child should your people decide they do not wish to serve elven masters? Your streets will run red with blood. You will be forced to make some very difficult decisions, the least of which includes putting your own people to the sword.”

Eris clenched a fist and relaxed it. “My people will accept Ruith as my choice.”

“Even if they do,” Michal said, “Trinta will not. The rest of the Free Cities will not. The faith views your impending marriage as a slight to the gods. I hear your local octarian has refused to officiate, and that you have petitioned the high octarian in Trinta to certify your marriage.”

Eris gritted her teeth. It was true. Brucia’s octarian had refused to oversee their marriage, which was why it was on hold. She’d written to the high octarian in Trinta, but did not have high hopes, especially with war looming.

It didn’t matter. She did not need the faith’s permission to marry Ruith. They could do it in the throne room, marry according to elvish tradition if they had to, or some other.

Michal let his hands rest on his knees. “I’ll take your silence as confirmation of that. Let me be clear. I make no judgements. Personally, I support you. Love who you wish. The faith is anything but progressive. Ours would be a marriage of political convenience. I have no interest in bedding you. I’ll continue to leave that to the Crow, should you wish it.”

“You would turn him into my whore?” Eris spat. “If he were here—”

“But he is not,” Michal said coolly, staring at her. Through her. “You and I do not have the luxury of common birth. We were born to destinies far greater, Eris. Let us join those destinies, unite the Free Cities under one banner. With Ostovan and Brucia unified, Trinta loses all its power against you. You will quell the rebellion in Brucia, expand your power base, remain in good standing with the faith… I will even honor the Crow’s bargains with Greymark, Roque, and D’thallanar as a gesture of goodwill. Everything you want, I can give to you, and all I ask is for one yes. The right yes.”

“And for me to support your bid for the throne here,” Eris pointed out.

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