Page 33 of Thorns and Echoes

It wasn't quite an admission of guilt, but it was enough. Rage and grief tightened her grip on her whip. Her own family – she knew they were capable of it, but she'd hoped.

The Queen smiled without humor. “So confident! No, of course I'm aware of your sycophants. Punishing you isn't why we're having this conversation. Is it, Auntie?”

Her whip swung like a dangling snake, back and forth, back and forth. Anais stepped closer. “What do you want, Satryani?”

The duchess didn't answer right away. She was gloating. Either that, or she didn't think she'd get this far. Blackmail the Queen? Unheard of.

She finally said, “Give me my granddaughter. The girl should be raised by her mother, not amongst the sort of company you keep.”

Silarya Kipos would be eight years old this year. There was no point holding on to the girl; the duchess now knew Anais wouldn't harm children. But hostages had only been half the point. No child should be raised by snakes.

The Queen shrugged. “Take her. She's of no consequence to me.”

A heavy weight settled in her chest. Was she breaking a promise? Using a child as a pawn wasn't as bad as murdering the youth with her own claws. ‘Less bad’ was still terrible. Was it more harmful to hand over the child or keep her safe?

More harmful to whom?

Octavius had been right. She needed to rest.

Gathering her whip around her wrist, the Queen glanced beyond the duchess’ shoulder. The child wasn't what she wanted. Power was what she was after.

Anais moved as though to step past her, then leaned in. “You will be silent. Nothing has changed.”

Satryani smirked.

The Queen continued, “I plan to retrieve my Escort myself. When I return, we will go to war. You will be silent because I will give you Nadraken. I will give you all the blood and death you want.”

Avarice flashed in her great-aunt’s eyes. Then they narrowed like the shrewd bitch she was. “And when you return, you’ll execute me. Quietly, of course. It'll be a tragedy.”

In every beat of Anais’ heart was the temptation to slice her claws across the lady's throat. The drops of red spilling to the ground would be the most satisfying blood she'd ever spilled. Or better yet, whip the heartless snake to the ground, releasing her rage and grief until pain stopped Satryani's heart.

Unfortunately, death wasn't an option. No matter the cause of the scheming duchess’ death, half the court would be thrown into chaos.

The Queen patted the other woman's shoulder. “Unlike you, I don't kill my family. We can work together for once, Aunt. It's your choice.” She curled a claw at one of the guards and raised her voice. “Clear the way for the duchess. We wouldn't want a wayward arrow to find her.”

Walking away from the murdering bitch was a test of her resolve. She finally had confirmation of her mother's killer: the one woman she couldn't touch. Not yet.

Sweat beaded her brow, and her breaths were too short by the time she entered the healer's hall. Octavius' scolding occupied the back of her mind. She brushed it aside and strode into his office.

Jerrl slouched in front of the healer's desk, his nose bandaged and blood cleaned. Her Escort was bent over a book. They both came alert at her appearance.

She closed the door. “I'll say this once, Jerrl. Take your people in hand. If you are committed to the cause, we can'tafford displays like today. My ill health won't be an excuse for long.”

A scowl formed on his brow, quickly changing into a pained grimace. Pressing his fingers to the side of his head, he muttered, “I'm doing my best. Do you think I like having a broken nose? The problem is, my people need to act. Training and more training isn't enough. Send us out. Send us after Castien. We brought him back last time; we can do it again.”

He wasn't wrong. “Your people in Nadraken–”

“Not mine. They were Damon’s friends. I don't know how to contact them, or if they'd even help us now.”

Of course not. That would have been too easy.

Problems on top of problems. Her head throbbed.

Octavius grumbled, “We're finished here, Jerrl. My Queen, I'll meet you back in your chambers.”

Ah, he was issuing commands now. Not a good sign. Nonetheless, he shouldn't have done so out here. Anais frowned slightly. “Don't keep me waiting, Escort.”

She turned, and the world spun. Her hand found the door handle in time to steady herself. Waves of exhaustion crashed through her limbs. She had never said Octavius' diagnosis was wrong. Lying in bed all day would have been far preferable for her health, sanity, and mood. Alas. A Queen's work…