Page 161 of Brimstone

Are you okay?

Saeris’s eyes were on Kavan. She showed no signs of having noticed my discomfort, but we were sensitive to each other these days. I could sense when she was tense. Worried. Apparently, she could sense when I was so deeply on edge.

I’m fine. I’m okay. He was just . . . he was one of mine.

Oh, gods, Fisher. I’m so sorry.

To the warrior, she said, “Thank you for your service to this court, Kavan. I will consider your petition thoroughly before I make my decision.”

The warrior bowed deeply. His gaze lingered on Saeris for a second before it slipped to me, dark and tense. Once, his eyes would have been full of laughter and fire. Now they were cold and full of hate.

It broke me.

How could I have been so fuckingblind?

When my fighters had fallen in battle, I had consoled myself with the knowledge that they had gone on to rest, gone into the arms of the loved ones and ancestors who had passed beforethem. Not for one second had I imagined that they would behere, suffering and tormented, and coming to hate me for abandoning them to their fate. How could I not have consideredthis?

Saeris’s voice sounded as though it were coming from underwater. “. . . you, Ibanwae. Tell me, how doyousee yourself being of service to this court?”

Kavan was gone.

A female high blood had replaced him and was bowing, her eyes glued on the floor. Her hair was a frizzy black mass, so voluminous and wild that it almost hid her whole head. She wore a high-collared black dress, long-sleeved, its skirts brushing the ground, hiding her feet. Aside from her head and her hands, every part of her body was covered.

Her voice swept through the hall in a hoarse whisper. “Your Highness. I am known to every member of this court. I was here at the beginning, when our kind first spilled righteous blood in service of our king. My hands designed and oversaw the construction of the fine palace that you now call your own. My lord father charged me with the engineering and construction of siege machines, sewer systems, and all the infrastructure and planning required when the Cogs were built. He was particularly pleased with the weapons of war I created on his behalf. Weapons of iron, designed to inflict unimaginable pain upon the vile Fae scum who beset our home and attempt to divert us from our glorious purpose.”

Vile Fae scum.

I could see only the crown of her head, but I could picture her expression as she spat those words at the ground.

“I put myself forth as the next Lord of Midnight, and request that I be made Keeper of Pain, so that I might renew my efforts in the design of equipment that will bring the Fae dogs to heel once and—”

Saeris spoke over the female. “What is our glorious purpose, Ibanwae?” Unruffled. Calm, even. But my mate waslivid.

The name Ibanwae was so old and out of style that it probably hadn’t been spoken outside of this court in centuries. The woman it belonged to looked up, revealing a face full of tattoos. Runes, to be precise. They were dead runes, though. Long inactive. Barren of magic and turned ash-gray by time. It was a shield. Once upon a time, this female had been an Alchemist.

Her eyes were black, pupil bleeding into iris, bleeding into white. Open scorn met Saeris’s question as the female slowly drew up to stand straight. “The same glorious purpose that Sanasroth hasalwaysstriven toward, Your Majesty. Domination over the other courts. Total supremacy over the Fae. Mandatory blood tithes. Livestock breeding farms. Feeding farms—”

Saeris held up a hand. “Yes, thank you. That’s enough.”

Ibanwae huffed, her dead runes shifting as she pulled a disgruntled face. “Does the reality of your court displease you, Your Majesty?” she asked. “Perhaps you haven’t the stomach to rule over a people such as these.” She spread her arms wide, gesturing to her fellow high bloods.

A thick silence fell over the crowd. To the right, Tal leaned against the wall by the foot of the dais, arms folded over his chest. His face was blank, his eyes fixed on Saeris, waiting, as everyone else was, to see what she would say.

Saeris regarded Ibanwae, exuding a proud, cool confidence that made me want to cheer on her behalf. She looked every bit the regal, unshakable queen she needed to be in this moment—as unreachable and cold as the distant mountains. She didn’t say anything in response to the jibe. Just stared at the female. The high blood took Saeris’s silence as a sign that she had caught her on the back foot; she smirked coquettishly, sending sidelonglooks at the other vampires gathered at the foot of the dais, who had clearly come to hear her speak and show their support. After a long, long moment, the vampire’s smile began to fade, though.

Saeris didn’t blink.

Someone cleared their throat.

On the table to the left, someone shifted, causing a chair to complain under their weight.

And still Saeris stared at the female.

Ibanwae lowered her eyes to the ground. “You understand, I do not mean to offend the throne—”

“I understand violence,” Saeris said. She spoke softly, with no inflection or emotion. The entire hall heard her words. “I understand . . . that it is atool.” She waited. Looking beyond Ibanwae, she took in the high bloods in their laces and satins, and the gold-rimmed, etched wineglasses spiked with Fae blood, and she addressed them all. “I understand that the high bloods of Sanasroth have run amok these past one thousand years. I understand that Malcolm let chaos reign here, while he was off waging a war he could not win. A war that cost Sanasroth its resources and depleted its wealth at every turn. There will be no livestock breeding farms. There will be nofeedingfarms. Over the coming years, we will focus on rebuilding this court—”

“And while we’re rebuilding,” a sharp voice called, “what do you propose that weeat?”