Page 147 of Thorns and Echoes

Satryani didn’t flinch. She didn’t utter a word of denial. Her mouth parted – and snapped shut as her eyes flicked over Anais' shoulders.

Her Escorts had arrived.

Silent but foreboding, Vern’s presence reflected in the flash of hate in the duchess' eyes. In the hall, Darius’ polite, backhanded compliments to the guards' statuesque usefulness cut the silence. With him were the heavier footsteps of Octavius.

Duchess Satryani examined the men. “I always wondered about you and your mother. Why she kept such strange company. Pampered toys, I thought. We all have our indulgences.”

She rolled her wrist, pulling the whip tighter. Castien stumbled closer to her. “But she never broke them. Neither do you. I finally understand. You are soft-hearted. Weak. Your mother was no better. I am ashamed to acknowledge your bloodline. My sister, Goddess receive her soul, would have sooner strangled your mother in the womb than let the crown fall into your pathetic hands.”

Flinging her fingers, she sent the ring clattering to the floor. It rolled and spun, circling back to Castien’s feet.

Love makes you weak.

The Queen countered, “My grandmother was a monster. She left our nation on the brink of destruction, but you are too blind to see that. You measure strength by drops of blood spilled. You–”

Satryani leaned forward and jerked her hand down. With a choked cry, Castien fell to his knees.

Do not react. Do not give her an ounce more leverage than she already has.

Except the duchess had enough to make Anais crawl.

And Satryani knew it. “This one man – thiswhoreis worth more to you than the crown. You are not fit to rule. Name me your heir and step down, or he dies.” The claws of her other hand opened like the talons of a hawk prepared to strike.

Threatening an Escort was punishable by a slow and painful death.

The Queen reminded herself that privacy also gave the duchess plausible deniability. Punish her now, and the court could claim she had done nothing wrong.

Anais spoke in her bored court tone. “Kill him, and you lose everything. I murdered my way through Nadraken for this man. If you believe he is more important to me than the crown, what makes you think I won’t kill you? What makes you think I care about consequences?”

They stared at each other, cold indifference matching arrogant disdain. The duchess would not kill Castien. Not without assurances, not in the palace surrounded by the army.

Not while Anais stood by and did nothing.

She imagined blood streaming from his neck. The last thing she'd said to him had been in anger. One vicious swipe, and he'd never hear her apology.

The duchess’ lips stretched into a thin smile. She leaned back and loosened her grip. Castien inhaled deeply. “Because you care too much. Look at the people you surround yourself with. Jerome Winters, a knight who should have submitted to the marriage bed. Laureline Comtrei, the embarrassment of the court. Baron Darius, whose father hasn’t disowned him for the fact that he’s an Escort – and only that reason. Weak men. Mad women. I thought perhaps you kept them because they were easy to control – but no. You care. Your heart bleeds for them. So you will set aside the throne because I will swear to let them live.”

Satryani let the whip relax another inch. “I will let all of your Escorts live. Unharmed. Free to leave the palace and go where they please. You are family, Anais, and I am willing to be proven wrong. Make the correct decision. You may have either your power, or those you care about. Choose.”

Power was useless if she couldn’t protect the people she loved.

Anais took a step forward. The guards bristled. They should have been more concerned about the woman they served. “You question my taste in entertainment when you align yourself with our enemies? I findthatdifficult to understand, Duchess.”

Confused and irritated, the lady scoffed, “What nonsense are you trying to distract me with?”

Anais removed a round pin from her pocket and tossed it at the lady's feet. “Nadraken, Auntie. Your militia at the village was guarding a Nadraken woman. You're working with Drantar's enemies.”

None of the guards reacted. They already knew.

Lady Satryani laughed. “You think I allied with Nadraken? The girl was a tool. A test for their fascinating method of control. I quite like it.”

Dropping the whip onto her lap, the duchess clapped her hands.

Now was the opportunity for Castien to escape. He simply needed to grab the whip and leap to Anais' side. Only a few paces separated them. She could protect him.

But he didn't move. Why didn't he move?

A door behind one of the guards opened. Two servants entered the room. Each carried a small box in their hands.