Page 36 of Thorns and Echoes

“I'll watch out for him.”

Her friend's grateful smile cut to her heart. She should go alone. Every additional person slowed her down. She was light; a horse could carry her longer, farther.

Her Escorts would run their horses to the ground chasing after her.

She had already agreed to Jerome's demand that a squad of soldiers accompany them. She hadn't mentioned leaving them at the border. Convincing him of the need for stealth would come later.

Pale light bathed the halls as the Queen walked out of the double doors. Halfway to the gardens, Vern joined her entourage. Or, rather, the royal assassin did. Dark green riding leathers stripped the veneer of civilization from him, his every step a predatory stalk. The change in him was subtle, yet so very obvious to her. He’d often worn the same leathers when her mother had been alive. The buckles of his armor had always been so shiny.

This early in the morning, few nobles lounged in the halls. Her guards searched and cleared the gardens. The Queen stepped into an alcove framed by flowering vines.

“Good morning, my Queen.” Duchess Satryani bowed, the gesture little more than a dip of her chin. Disrespect that would have required punishment, if anyone else had seen it. “What a rare delight to see you in the gardens at dawn. Is my granddaughter with you?”

Anais lowered herself into a wooden chair formed from tree roots, its shape maintained by the gardeners. She gestured toward a similar seat on the other side of a table, waiting until the lady impatiently sat down. “Both the steward and I are leaving today. We will be away for several weeks, possibly a moon. In that time, I would prefer an interim steward.”

That caught the duchess' attention. Anais had never entrusted anyone outside her Inner Circle with the throne. She was already regretting her choice.

Lady Satryani sat back and placed one hand over another on her lap, feigning indifference. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me. The general will take the reins, I assume.”

Honestly, the Master of Courtesans would make for a better stand-in.

The Queen slid a claw beneath her bracelet. “You want a war. Wars require armies, and so the general will be occupied. However, Lady Trishve will remain at the palace, barring an invasion. As always, the Escorts are under my direct orders.”

The duchess betrayed herself, impatience in the tapping of her claws. “Duchess Laureline, then. I do not see how any of this requires my involvement.”

“Auntie, don’t be dull.”

A small, disdainful frown sullied the duchess’ brow as she turned and leaned in. “I need to hear it plainly, my Queen.”

The Queen slipped a bracelet from her wrist, the emeralds catching stray beams of sunlight. She set the jewelry on the table and pushed it a few inches toward the duchess. Without lifting her fingers, she met the woman’s eyes. “While I am away, I grantyou the authority of the crown and all that it entails. You will not cause a war. You will maintain the peace of the court. When I return, Silarya Kipos will be released from my care. Is that sufficiently plain, my lady?”

Satryani dropped her gaze to the bracelet. Her claws ceased tapping. The faint edges of a smile tugged at her lips as she bowed her head – lower this time.

The duchess was likely to make a play for the throne regardless. If she managed to convince the court to support her, she might have enough leverage to force the army to obey. General Trishve was under orders to avoid a civil war.

However, warming the throne with the Queen's approval was a different matter. Now, the duchess served. She'd get a taste of the power she coveted so greatly.

Anais hoped the throne bit her in the ass.

It had splinters on occasion.

The scheme wasn’t without risk. Perhaps the lady could adapt her plans in less than a moon. Satryani wasn’t the kind of woman to exchange the throne for a single child. Two weeks to Nadraken, two weeks back. What if Castien was physically unable to travel? What if infiltrating Coriante Castle took longer than a few days? What if he wasn't there at all?

Logic dictated that Vern was right. She shouldn't go. But then she might have to admit that he could be right about everything else, too.

Out in the courtyard, the crisscross of guards’ spears blocked the main gates. The Nadraken representatives appeared to be harassing the guards. Behind the duchess stood her attendants, servants, and their guards. Horses harnessed to a carriage pawed the ground.

Another set of ambassadors stood across the way in an orderly manner, as expected of the Shoni’i. Vern had mentioned they were still here, though he didn't know why. TheCommander waited beside her stocky mount, her brow drawing down as Anais chose to address the Nadrakens first.

The palace guards straightened their postures. Duchess Isabel and her people turned, bowed. “Highness, good morning. We are eager to get an early start. If we may proceed?”

A cold smile curved Anais’ lips. “As am I. We will leave as soon as my guards are ready.”

“…We?” Isabel hesitated, her gaze taking in the Queen's attire and the courtyard. Behind Anais, the Escorts and a squad of guards saddled mounts. “I… We do not need help returning home, highness.”

“No, of course not. But, you see, I’ve decided to travel with you to Nadraken. It has been too long since I’ve visited dear Sister Yelena. She and I have so much to discuss.”

The lady blinked. “I see. We would, of course, be happy to guide you–”