Page 37 of Thorns and Echoes

The Queen lifted a hand. Silently padding paws brought Ash to her side, and she placed her hand on the creature. “I'm afraid you misunderstand. I am so anxious to see her that we must travel light. You, Duchess Isabel, will of course accompany me. Your people will remain here and enjoy the comforts of my palace.”

The Nadraken representatives shifted, glancing at each other, then at the palace guards. Their own guards carefully kept their hands away from their weapons.

Lady Isabel’s face flushed red, then pale, then red again. “What? You can’t–”

But very clearly, the Queen could. After some consideration, the duchess shut her mouth, took a deep breath, and turned her head to her people. “At least allow me an attendant, highness. One of my own.”

Faint amusement tinged the Queen's voice. “Very well. But I will choose her.”

The Nadrakens stiffened. Low growling accompanied her as she went down the line, both she and the wolf examining each baroness and servant, noting those who shrank away out of fear or revulsion. They had a right to hate her. Forcing them to stay at the palace was very likely to get them all killed. The truce of the Consort Tournament had ended. They were no longer ambassadors, not even respected foreign visitors. The guards, if they were smart, would hide in the military wing. Perhaps a lucky few of the others might earn a bracer, but Anais doubted Satryani would allow it. No, these unfortunate souls were sacrifices to the court.

The two baronesses straightened their shoulders and painted on smiles, but their hands were clasped too tightly together. Both resembled typical nobility. Neither was worth her time. Of the four servants, one woman dared glare at the Queen. It was only a brief moment of raising and dropping her intense, aquamarine gaze.

Ash didn’t growl at this one.

Anais nudged the servant’s chin up with a claw. “What is your name?”

The anger had vanished behind a blank expression. Her tone was just as flat. “Zara, highness.”

“And what do you do for the duchess?”

Her nose wrinkled slightly. “I’m a laundress, and I sew. Highness.”

“Can you use that sword you’re wearing?”

The young woman gained a wary look. Duchess Isabel interjected, “All of my attendants are trained with a sword, although Zara never showed much–”

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” the Queen snapped.

Caution and confusion flickered in Zara’s eyes, warring with the underlying hate. She blinked a few times, swallowed, and cleared her frown. “Yes, highness. The duchess has graciouslytrained me for two years.” The words were clipped and perfectly polite. Then she added, almost under her breath, “I’m better with a bow.”

The Queen turned her back on the servants. “You may have that one. We depart in twenty minutes.”

A flurry of activity overtook the Nadrakens as they sorted their bags and chests. The duchess snapped out orders to repack a small bag. Anais strode to the other side of the courtyard.

Aurora hadn't moved. Posture stiff and still, she was the ideal soldier, her back straight, her eyes forward, her armor polished. Even her tightly braided hair hardly stirred in the wind.

When the Queen halted in front of her, she bowed ever so precisely. Anais let her straighten. “Commander. I am told you requested an audience.”

Aurora fixed her stare slightly above Anais' head. “My Queen extends a courtesy message to the Queen of Drantar. She sees your growing army. She knows the attack on Nadraken was provoked. However, further aggression will not be tolerated.”

Flanking the Commander’s horse were two Shoni’i women. What they heard was of no consequence. Behind the Queen was Jerome. Everyone else was drawn to the commotion of Duchess Isabel's aggravated orders.

Ambassadors delivering insults weren't immune to punishment. The Queen could have Aurora whipped. She could also be whipped for the insult of being taller. Instead, Castien’s name was on the tip of Anais’ tongue. Aurora would understand.

The Aurora she knew would have understood.

Anais uncurled a few inches of her whip, playing with the end like a pet snake. “A Queen does not command a Queen. Tell Eolani that Drantar’s military affairs are none of her concern. If anything, she should be grateful for the opening. Shoni’i gained a castle and two forts, isn't that right?”

Tensing, Aurora’s eyes flickered, and her brow drew down. “As you say, highness, Shoni'i’s military affairs are our own business. My Queen's message has been delivered. I request the gates be opened.”

The whip twisted and twisted, threading through her fingers. Anais stepped closer.

She lowered her voice. “I regret that we couldn't have a longer conversation in private. Ten years is… too much has happened. That hawk we saved died last year. And I don't see a ring on your finger. I wanted to ask about Kalen–”

“Kalen is dead.”

The shock of being interrupted was overridden by the quiet fury in the Commander’s tone. Flashing, furious eyes finally met hers. The other woman’s impassive expression fractured into fury, her lips moving only enough to hiss, “Your court stole him. Unlike your Escort, he was no one important. When he was returned, broken and barely breathing, he was thrown into the dungeons as a potential spy. Where he died.”