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More energy pulsed.

Like some kind of magical construct, Ilduin teetered around to face the kings. The envoy beside the earl crumpled, his body landing with a sickening thud, and some of the nearest courtiers whimpered. None of the others moved. Was the High King using his magic to control those around him, or were they simply too afraid of his power to ignore his commands?

Mehl gripped his husband’s wrist once more. “Tor, you must—”

“Lord Ilduin attempted to have his servant murder our daughter,” Toren said through clenched teeth. “If Ber hadn’t been there, he would have succeeded.”

“Elna?” Ria cried, coming to a halt just behind the High King.

“She is unharmed.” Toren’s smile was a grim and terrifying thing. “Ilduin will not be able to say the same.”

Mehl drew a knife from a pocket in his robes at the same time he released his hold on Toren. “Indeed.”

It was just and right—and yet terribly wrong. If the High King of Llyalia executed the ambassador from Centoi in the middle of the throne room after granting him a safe exit, it could cause a rift between the kingdoms that even her father’s death and her marriage to Ber couldn’t heal. There would be too many rumors and accusations of treachery.

“Ber,”she sent.“Ilduin will die, but not like this. It would be too messy. And what if he has more people planted in the palace? We can’t let Toren do this.”

“I want to rend Ilduin limb from—”

“I know.”Tes forced her feet to move, though each step felt like she was trudging through a wild, flooded river.“But not like this. You have to see that it can’t be like this.”

Ber’s frustration hit her—along with his assent.“You can’t step between them. If Toren loses grasp of his senses, he might see you as a threat.”

“He won’t,”she insisted.

But as she neared the group, the High King’s burning gaze filled her with a torrent of doubt.

The energy hummingbeneath Ber’s feet decided him. He caught Mey’s eye and inclined his head toward the door. “Bring Elna. More guards and several court mages will meet us outside.”

Without stopping to think, the nursemaid shook her head. “I must keep the princess safe.” Then she paled. “Forgive me, Your Highness. It’s only…”

Though he couldn’t help but admire her protective instincts, they couldn’t delay. “I’ll be carrying my own son, too. I must help my brother, but I refuse to leave the children all the way up here.”

Toren would be furious, but Ber couldn’t stop to care. No one else seemed to feel the hum of the High King’s anger seeping into the castle, but they would if it wasn’t stopped. This was what he’d always feared—what he’d tried to protect his brother against. A threat strong enough to shake Toren’s power loose.

Now, he had to hurry before the tumult was loosed on Tes.

Despite Ber’s rapid pace, Speran nuzzled against him as he hurried down the corridor. The guards who’d come at Ber’s earlier call encircled their group, and if Mey and the healer struggled to keep up, they made no complaint. Even baby Elna only whimpered softly in the nursemaid’s arms.

Sir Macoe himself met them at the end of the corridor, and at his command, more warriors and a handful of mages surrounded the group. “Your Highness, I’ve had the passageways cleared all the way to the antechamber.”

“Thank you,” Ber replied as the captain fell into step beside him. “Your quick response to my command is appreciated.”

Macoe understood what he meant precisely. “I have seen and heard many things that others have not. I know precisely where your loyalties lie, and so you have my trust.”

“I see,” Ber said.

Even if he didn’t entirely.

They walked the rest of the way to the antechamber in silence. Though the room tucked behind the throne room appeared simple, it was anything but—to an Eyamiri royal. Both doors were designed to be locked, and there was an entrance to the escape tunnels that Macoe was able to access. If Elna and Speran weren’t safe in here with so many guards and mages, then they wouldn’t be safe anywhere.

With some effort, Ber handed his son to the healer, Mery. Speran whimpered, and Ber hurried toward the door before the cries began. “Distract him before he upsets Elna,” he said. “Do some illusions or something.”

Then he entered the throne room—and dove straight into the cold depths of Toren’s power.

Chapter 42

Wading