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Chapter fourteen

Seraphina

“ A nd you’re quite certain?” her godfather asked again. “You wish to go through with it?”

Seraphina sipped her summer wine. Sitting at the high table with her godparents and the other members of her Privy Council, she gazed out at the glittering splendor of her court feasting within the great hall. They toasted to her pending journey, to her health, to all the well wishes the lords and ladies of Goldreach could conjure.

In the morning, she would set sail for Nerina Reef. For the first time in her life, she would leave Elmoria’s shores.

She could only pray she might return, as her brother never had.

“I’ve made up my mind,” she reminded Duke Percival. “I want the letters of marque delivered to the gaol tonight. The pirate lords will be released in the morning, before we depart. ”

“No,” her godfather huffed. “Not that .” A deep frown etched itself into the lines of his face when he muttered, “I mean this business with appointing a Steward.”

Seraphina swallowed and set aside her goblet. The very mention of the word Steward was enough to sour the wine already coursing down her throat. “What other choice is there? Who else can we possibly trust?”

“Command me to stay behind and I will do so,” Duke Percival whispered. “You need only say the word and I will hold Elmoria in your absence.”

The idea of forging into the unknown without her Lord Chancellor at her side seized her heart in an iron vice. “No. No, I couldn’t possibly do that.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Duchess Edith suddenly asked as she leaned in close from where she sat on her husband’s opposite side.

“Nothing,” Duke Percival answered at once. “Nothing at all, dearest.”

Duchess Edith slanted him a look. “You are a terrible liar.”

Seraphina tried to dredge up a smile for her godmother, but even that small gesture was utterly exhausting. There was still so much to do.

And each item on her to-do list weighed more heavily than the last.

There was the business of the pirates currently imprisoned in the gaol. She wanted them conscripted, released, and then on their way to Mysai before she herself left for Nerina Reef .

Just in case.

Then there was the matter of a Steward. Who could she possibly trust to sit Elmoria’s throne in her absence beyond Duke Percival or Duchess Edith? There was only one true answer. But it was an answer her court would never accept.

Olivia .

Seraphina worried her fingers atop her lap and fought to keep some semblance of a smile pinned to her lips. She couldn’t possibly name Olivia. The peerage would never accept a common-born woman without so much as a family name as their Steward. She would have to choose the only other option left to her.

And then , after all that, she would have to speak to Lord Tiberius and finally give him her answer.

She didn’t want to. She wished she could just slip away to Nerina Reef in the middle of the night and leave that entire uncomfortable conversation unsaid. But it had to happen.

She owed him that much, after all their long years of friendship.

“His Grace is simply fretting again,” Seraphina explained to her godmother. “Despite the fact that there’s no need.” Turning her attention back to Duke Percival, she slowly reiterated, “I’ve already made up my mind.”

“I’m hardly fretting,” Duke Percival scoffed.

But Duchess Edith spoke around him to observe, “He does not seem to be the only one fretting. What is troubling you?”

“It’s nothing,” Seraphina reassured with another attempt at a smile. “I am simply…thinking about all I must do. And then there is the voyage itself. ”

Duchess Edith hummed knowingly and reached across Duke Percival to pat her arm. “All will be well. We will have Oracle Tsukiko with us for the first crossing. No harm will befall us.”

“Speaking of,” Duke Percival rumbled while squinting at those gathered within the great hall. “Where is our honored guest?”

“At the cathedral with Father Perero,” Seraphina answered. “She is gifting blessings to the people before we set sail.”

And she had taken Alyx with her.

The Oracle was the first person Seraphina had ever seen her little usuru take a strong liking to other than herself. It was strange, being without the winged serpent’s familiar weight about her shoulders.

She felt positively naked without it.

With dinner drawing to a close, music lilted from the musicians seated in a corner of the room. After-dinner dancing was a common enough pastime in the midlands of Elmoria, though Seraphina rarely participated.

The only men who ever asked her for a dance were those wanting something from her.

“You two should dance,” Seraphina encouraged her godparents. “I do so enjoy watching you dance.” Which was true enough. She did.

But, more importantly, she could then deal with her next bit of business without her godfather worrying at her shoulder.

Duke Percival and Duchess Edith shared a glance.

“I do believe she’s trying to get rid of us,” Duke Percival murmured to his wife .

“It does seem that way,” Duchess Edith agreed with a smile. “But that suits me just fine. I was rather hoping you would ask me to dance.”

“Always, my love.”

Seraphina’s heart ached as she watched her godfather take hold of Duchess Edith’s hand and impart a gentle kiss to his wife’s fingertips. Would anyone ever look at her the way her godparents looked at one another?

“Off with you now,” she teased the elderly couple. “Shoo.”

Her godmother offered a quick wink and helped Duke Percival to his feet. And then the two departed, whisked off to the middle of the great hall, where the space between the lower tables provided a natural dance floor. All of Seraphina’s attempts to keep a smile on her lips faded the moment her godparents had eyes only for each other.

It was time to get all her unpleasant business over and done with.

She lifted a hand to hail the closest footman. “Please inform the Lord Exchequer I need to speak with him.”

The footman bowed and strode further down the high table to where the Count of Wellane sat with his wife and daughter. The moment the footman whispered her message into the Lord Exchequer’s ear, Wellane jumped to his feet and hurried over. His family craned curious looks after him.

“Your Majesty,” Wellane greeted as he swept into a bow. “You honor me with the opportunity to offer you one last farewell before you set sail. Though, of course, we will be at your send-off tomorrow.” A smile curved his lips when he righted himself. “My daughter is an avid admirer of yours.”

Seraphina shot a glance toward the young lady in question, but Wellane’s daughter blushed and ducked her head the moment their eyes met.

Looking back to her Lord Exchequer, Seraphina declared, “Upon my return, your daughter will become one of my ladies-in-waiting, alongside your wife.”

Wellane’s sudden intake of breath was audible, and the smile which followed was particularly brilliant—a pleasant change from the worry lines her Lord Exchequer often wore when they discussed the kingdom’s finances together. “Oh, Your Majesty. You honor us beyond measure. Thank you. She will probably not believe me when I tell her.”

Seraphina raised a staying hand, rooting the man in place before he hurried back to his family to share the good news. “There is…something else, my lord. A favor I must ask.”

“Oh? Whatever it is, Your Majesty, we of House Blakewood would be delighted to assist.”

Swallowing, Seraphina cast a sidelong glance further down the high table, to where the Duke of Coreto sat with his second son, Lord Bennett. Both watched her and the Count of Wellane with all the rapt attention Alyx usually paid the palace mice.

She snapped her attention back to the Lord Exchequer and decreed, “In my absence, you will sit the throne as my Steward, my lord. ”

In the wake of those words, the Count of Wellane laughed. “You are teasing me, surely.” But when she had no smile for him in return, all the color drained from the man’s face. “But…the Lord Chancellor would be the more natural choice.”

“The Lord Chancellor will be accompanying me to Nerina Reef, my lord.”

Wellane wet his lips and glanced down the length of the high table. “Then the Duke of Coreto is the next natural choice, Your Majesty.”

Seraphina steeled her jaw. She wouldn’t trust the Duke of Coreto to reshelve a book in the royal library, let alone rule her kingdom while she was away from its shores. “I have made my decision, my lord. Will you deny your queen’s request?”

“No,” Wellane breathed, shaking his head. “Of course not. Never. I simply find myself…undeserving of such a great honor.” He bowed low again, though the man visibly trembled when he asked, “By your leave, Your Majesty? I will go tell my wife.”

“Of course.” Seraphina dismissed him with a wan smile. “Please relay my warmest regards to your wife and daughter.”

Again, the Count of Wellane bowed before fleeing from her presence as if the Enemy himself nipped his heels. She hardly blamed him. She had just placed a target on his back and handed the Duke of Coreto a bow.

Wellane was right. Coreto should have been next for consideration. And the duke was unlikely to soon forget such a slight .

But she had more immediate problems to contend with. The moment the Count of Wellane ceased blocking her view, she saw Lord Tiberius striding toward her with a smile on his lips.

Seraphina reached for what was left of her wine and downed it all in one go.

“I have come to beg a dance from the fairest queen in all Avirel,” Tiberius announced the moment he stepped atop the dais housing the high table. He swept into a deep bow more fitting for an empress.

Seraphina’s lips quirked. “I am the only queen in all Avirel, my lord,” she couldn’t help but observe.

“Well, yes. But only if one wishes to exclude the poor queen consorts and dowager queens,” he countered on his rise. “And yet, even if Avirel were drowning in queens, you would still outshine them all,” he added on a husky purr, his voice like dark velvet.

Clearly, he was determined to make this difficult.

“You flatter me,” Seraphina breathed, already on her feet. She didn’t even remember standing. “But I fear I am in no mood to dance tonight.”

“A walk in the gardens, then?” he suggested, seemingly unperturbed by her initial rejection. “I had hoped we might have an opportunity to speak before you left for Nerina Reef.”

Seraphina’s stomach roiled. Her pulse fluttered. “Very well,” she agreed, turning to make for the double doors leading out to the palace gardens. The march of booted feet trailed in her wake. “I desire privacy, Sir Arkwright,” she bid over her shoulder without bothering to see if the captain of her Queensguard was truly following her.

She knew he was.

The night air was pleasant—warm and heady, and scented with the glorious perfume of the many roses her gardeners favored. Overhead, the stars glittered and the moon hung heavy and full. It was a magical sort of night.

Beautiful. Romantic.

The moment she passed beneath the dark shadows cast by a trellis, Seraphina turned to face the man she had once loved. Her tongue was primed to tell him no once and for all. It was now or never. She had to tell him. She couldn’t, in good conscience, sail to Nerina Reef knowing she might have to barter herself to secure Mysai’s safety without first telling Tiberius no.

But before she could utter a single word, the former mercer’s son pulled from his doublet a large, flat box which he opened to reveal what was perhaps the most opulent necklace ever crafted.

At the sight of it, Seraphina forgot how to breathe.

The many diamonds decorating that fine-spun choker glittered in the moonlight—layers upon layers of jewels that would have dripped down the throat. It was exquisite. It was excessive.

Seraphina stared at the deluge of diamonds, her mouth agape. “By the Light, Tiberius, did you raid a diamond mine?”

He chuckled at the question and extended the box to her. “You know I would raid any and all diamond mines for you. Do you like it?” He did not wait for her to answer, though, before he asked, “Shall I help you put it on? ”

“Tiberius—”

“You will make it glitter all the more beautifully.”

“ Tiberius .”

Tiberius finally stopped fishing the necklace out of its box long enough to meet her eyes.

When he did, Seraphina gathered up enough courage to whisper, “My answer is no.”

The silence that followed was a poignant beast.

Tiberius’s jaw worked. He visibly swallowed. His voice was little more than a shred of sound when he finally asked, “You are rejecting me?”

The question was a knife to her heart. “It is what is best for Elmoria, Tiberius.”

The man huffed out a breath and turned away from her. “I suppose this would explain why you have yet to invite me to Nerina Reef, hm? Because you were always intending to set me aside? To cast me from your favor?”

Seraphina frowned at his back. “What?”

When next Tiberius turned to face her, his eyes flashed like cold emeralds in the darkness. “How can you be so na?ve, Sera?” he spat. “The world thinks me your favorite, and I am favored by others because of it. But the moment you snub me in front of them all, my business will flounder. Beaumont Trading will suffer. My pending deals with the city-states are already balanced on the edge of a knife, and should you do this to me now, they might never come to fruition. ”

For several long moments, Seraphina could only stare up at him. Tiberius Beaumont. The man she had once admired. The man she had once pined for.

The man who now dared cry to her about potentially spoiled business arrangements while her people in Mysai lived beneath the threat of an executioner’s blade.

Disgust washed over her—a veritable tsunami that threatened to drown her in an instant. She twitched away from the baron and placed yet more distance between her person and his. Not that there was much need for it.

The chasm he had just ripped open between them was far too great for any touch or ridiculously expensive gift to breach.

“How dare you,” Seraphina whispered at last, once she had finally recovered her voice. “How… dare you, you…silly peacock of a man.”

Tiberius’s jaw clenched at her words, his pride clearly wounded.

But she didn’t care.

She blazed right through his ego and hissed up at him, “The world thinks you my lover and I am named a harlot for it. What do you think would happen were I to bring you along to this peace summit I am hosting for my former fiancé ? I might as well slap King Edmund in the face and be done with it.”

“And yet you take Sir Dacre with you,” Tiberius volleyed back without pause.

The fact he dared speak again merely stoked her anger all the more. “You will be silent from this point forward, Lord Beaumont. I am your queen. I need not explain myself to you. ”

From the shadows off to her left, Seraphina suddenly heard a strange, wet slurping. When she jerked her head to the side to face the noise, she saw Olivia lounging against the trellis, snacking on a plum. She hadn’t even seen her oldest friend arrive.

There was no telling how long Olivia had been standing there. Listening.

Tiberius turned and sneered at the other woman. “What are you doing here?” he asked in flippant disobedience of Seraphina’s order for silence.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Olivia drawled around her mouthful of plum. “I’m just playing chaperone.”

Seraphina tried to quiet her racing heart. But still, her anger ran hot. She wished for nothing more in that moment than for Alyx to suddenly appear and bite the Baron of Crestley again.

She had no such luck, though. The skies remained empty.

Seraphina turned back to Tiberius and declared, “You are dismissed, Lord Beaumont. I do not desire to see you again this night. Nor tomorrow morning for my send-off.”

Tiberius stared down at her, his eyes suddenly wide. “Sera…” he whispered, chancing a step closer, “…you can’t be serious.”

But she jerked away from him. “Do not mistake my previous kindness toward you for weakness, my lord.” Lifting her chin, Seraphina softly reminded, “What was done by my father’s hand can always be undone by my own.”

That veiled threat certainly earned the baron’s attention. He had only been raised to the ranks of the nobility in the first place because her father willed it .

And though the baron’s jaw perceptibly tightened, he didn’t dare utter another word to her. For once, he listened, and he obeyed.

But not before tossing the necklace—box and all—at her feet during his retreat.

Olivia let loose a low whistle as they watched him go.

With Tiberius gone, all the anger swiftly oozed from her body. And in its absence, Seraphina trembled. “How much did you hear?” she asked, glancing at Olivia sidelong.

“Enough to be fiercely proud of you.”

When their eyes met, her best friend smiled. But Seraphina had no smile to offer in return.

Her eyes traced toward where Tiberius’s opulent necklace lay within its discarded box. The diamonds twinkled like fallen stars against the lawn bordering the garden path.

Olivia followed her gaze. “Do you want that?”

Seraphina shot the other woman a bewildered look. “Why?”

Olivia shrugged and suggested, “It could be useful.”

Breathing out a sigh, Seraphina shook her head and further withdrew from the necklace as if it were a snake lurking in the grass. “No. I don’t want it. You can take it. Do whatever you want with it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she muttered, “Prance about in it within that workshop of yours for all I care.”

Olivia made a face. “I don’t want to prance about in it…” But then she tilted her head to the side. “Well. No. I do actually want to do that. Only the once, though. ”

While her friend bent down and busied herself with shoving the diamond choker back into its box, Seraphina asked, “Did you finish those lists for me, then?”

“Yes, yes. Everything’s in order. Here.” Olivia righted herself and tucked the jewelry box beneath her arm. With her hands free, she fished two sealed missives from somewhere beneath her cloak. “As ordered—a list of all the courtiers I predict His Majesty will bring with him to Nerina Reef and all the ways you might appease the man’s mother to weasel your way into her good graces. Win over Dowager Queen Charlotte and you’ll have Edmund, too.”

“Thank you, Olivia,” Seraphina whispered, accepting the papers. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you with me.”

Those words were enough to steal the smile straight from Olivia’s lips. “Speaking of.” Her Spymaster procured something else from beneath her cloak. Two other somethings. “Now, I want you to listen to me closely. You must do exactly as I say, or you may very well hurt yourself.”

“What?” Seraphina’s brow furrowed.

Olivia unwrapped the first something—a small gold ring set with some blue jewel. Seraphina stared at it dumbly as her friend explained, “This is a poison ring. If anyone threatens you, I want you to strike them while wearing it. The gem is glass. It will break. And the needle hidden beneath will activate.”

She fixed Olivia with a fresh stare. But all she could ask was another, “…What? ”

“Well, it won’t kill them. It’ll only just render them unconscious for a little bit. Goodness, Seraphina. Don’t look at me like that. When have I ever tried to kill someone?”

She thinned her lips. “Well, there was that time with the head cook—”

Olivia brushed her hand through the air. Chuckling, she corrected, “When have I ever intentionally tried to kill someone?” Her friend’s merry mien didn’t last long, though. As it was wont to do, the other woman’s mood shifted with all the abruptness of a flash of lightning. “Please. Take it. Wear it. Use it if you’re in danger.”

“Very well…” Seraphina reluctantly took the ring.

“Good. Then this is…well. Naturally, the ring is only good against a solitary foe. But use this packet against a group. You’ll want to be careful opening it. If the powder gets in your eyes, it’ll hurt you just as much as it hurts them.”

Blinking down at the parchment packet in Olivia’s hand, Seraphina asked, “What do you think I’m going to be doing at this peace summit, Olivia?”

To that, her friend shrugged. “Well, I won’t know, will I? It’s best we’re prepared for all outcomes.” Stepping in closer, Olivia gently placed the packet in her palm and closed her hand around it. “Keep your bodice dagger on you. Keep the packet close. And I want that ring on your finger at all times.”

The threat of tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she looked up at her dearest friend and teased, “You’re starting to sound like Duke Percival, you know. ”

Olivia cracked a grin and jested, “Like father, like daughter, I suppose.”

But those words existed for only a moment between them before they both sobered, their smiles lost to the late spring air.

Seraphina prayed that saying didn’t hold true.

For the sake of all Elmoria, she prayed she was nothing like Reynard de la Croix.