Page 2 of The Shadowed Throne (Midlife Fairy Tale #4)

T he troll delegation from Stoneholde awaited Queen Anyka Blackbryar in the formal dining room for the welcome banquet, but she moved with no urgency.

She was the queen, the darkness reminded her.

The ruler of the powerful kingdom of Malveaux.

A wielder of strong magic. It would do them well to wait and consider who she was.

She nodded, pleasing the darkness that had been with her since Willow Hall. She’d tried to ignore it, done her best not to give it any credence, but it had worn her down.

She’d decided to think of it as a gift from her late mother.

Galwyn, her pet raven, sat on his perch as she contemplated which circlet to wear. Jenny, her lady’s maid, had set two out for Anyka to choose from before Anyka dismissed her.

She needed to get her thoughts in order before this meeting. There was much to discuss. Much she needed to go her way.

With a grunt of frustration, she called for her valet. “Wyett? Come here.”

He was in the sitting room, waiting to accompany her to the dining room. He came in. “Yes, my lady?”

“Which circlet?” She held them both out.

One was onyx, diamonds, and rubies set in black gold, the other done in platinum with diamonds, black pearls, and trillianites.

Her gown was black with black embroidery and lace trim, her boots embossed black leather.

Her finely woven cape, which had belonged to her grandmother, was black wool shot through with silver thread.

She wanted to portray an image of power and royalty. A woman to be taken seriously.

He glanced from one to the other. “They both compliment you well.”

She sighed. “Of course they do, otherwise I wouldn’t bother with them at all. Which one?”

“The platinum, my lady.”

She’d been leaning that way already. “As I thought.” She turned toward the mirror and placed it on her braids.

She slipped on the rest of her jewelry, all platinum to match, including a delicate pair of caps on the tips of her ears.

She didn’t often wear them, but reminding the trolls that she was Grym fae felt sensible. “The trolls are being seen to?”

“Yes, my lady. The staff has brought them plenty of beer and bowls of roasted nuts, as per your directions. Dinner will be served after you arrive.”

“Good.” The trolls were simple folk with simple tastes, but they liked abundance. She had no problem catering to that if it kept them happy. “Has Beatryce arrived?”

Wyett took a breath. “Lady Beatryce has refused to attend, your highness.”

Anyka had expected as much. That wouldn’t stop Anyka from arranging a betrothal for her daughter. “Her stubbornness will be her undoing.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” Wyett returned to the sitting room.

Anyka studied her image in the mirror. Everything looked perfect. She held out her hand. “Galwyn.”

The bird flew to her and settled on her shoulder.

A knock at the door turned her around. She rolled her eyes. If it was an impatient Ishmyel come to fetch her, she would be furious. She went out to the sitting room. “Who is it?”

The door opened and Zephynia, the royal seer and a distant cousin of Anyka’s, came in. “Anyka, I bring you a warning.”

“Well, that is something new and interesting, isn’t it?”

Zephynia frowned. “You mock me, but something sinister looms on the horizon. A dark force that has yet to be fully unleashed.” She shook her head. “It is closely linked to you, and yet…” She stared off into the distance. “It might well be your undoing.”

“I will be on the lookout, but at the moment, I am needed elsewhere.”

“Foolish girl. You have too much of your mother in you,” Zephynia muttered before making her way out and closing the door behind her.

Anyka sighed. “I’m sure there will be a daily warning about some new threat now that we are back from Willow Hall.”

Wyett said nothing.

Brows raised, Anyka gestured toward the door. “I need to leave.”

“Yes, my lady.” Wyett jumped up to open the door then stepped aside to let her pass. He followed behind with Trog, her troll bodyguard.

Trog had been at her door, his usual position. He was a valuable part of her team, and his presence would go a long way at the evening’s assembly. He wasn’t a full-blooded troll, but his height, size, and ginger hair, kept braided, made it impossible to see him as anything else.

He was fearless, loyal, and intimidating. Not the best with words, but then, that was common amongst the trolls born with traces of human blood. It didn’t bother her in the least that he had a mortal grandfather somewhere in his past.

She was quite fond of Trog, actually. With a slight smile, she made her way to the dining room. Footmen were positioned at the doors. Her uncle, Ishmyel, her Minister of Magic, Nazyr, and her Minister of Defense, Hawke, were already inside. At least they were supposed to be.

From the sounds of laughter, loud voices, and music, things seemed to be going well. She’d arranged for a small group from the village to play. It wasn’t to her taste. Common pub music, really, but again, she wanted the troll delegates happy.

She held her hand up to let the footmen know she wasn’t ready to enter. “Wyett, fetch Nazyr and Ishmyel.”

“Right away, my lady.” He slipped inside, returning a minute later with the two men.

She addressed them each with a question. “How is the spell coming? And my speech?”

Nazyr answered first. “The spell is difficult, my lady. To come up with something that will do as you asked…” He gave a little shake of his head. “I’ll have something soon, I promise.”

She frowned. She’d asked for a spell that would spread a measure of illness through the village.

Something she could blame on the magic and leaflets that Sparrow recently had the Wyvern drop across the realm of Malveaux.

Something that Anyka and those in her inner circle would be safe from, although if she needed to feign sickness for the sake of discrediting Sparrow, she would.

“Soon is not good enough. I need it by tomorrow.”

“I understand, my lady.” Nazyr leaned heavily on his walking stick. He had yet to fully recover from being possessed by a spirit from the Beyond.

The same spirit that had touched her, tainting her with its darkness.

But soon was not good enough. She’d already had the criers announce that she’d be giving a proclamation tomorrow. One her uncle was supposed to be writing. She looked at him, as he had yet to answer her question. “My speech?”

“Done,” he replied. “All it needs is your input.”

“Good. I’ll read it over this evening and let you know what I want changed. My chambers, as soon as this ends.”

“Excellent.” Ishmyel smiled, clearly pleased with himself.

She’d find out soon enough if that pleasure was earned. She gave a nod to the footmen. “Ready.”

They opened the doors, and Wyett stepped inside to announce her.

“Members of the visiting Stoneholde delegation and Malveauxians, may I present her esteemed highness, Queen Anyka Blackbryar.” He bowed.

The room went quiet as she strode in. Ishmyel and Nazyr followed. She gave the troll delegation a long look and a soft smile. “Good evening, my friends. How wonderful it is to see you back in Malveaux.”

Hawke Wickthorne, her Minister of Defense, was engaged in discussion with a group of trolls dressed in military garb.

The most senior-ranking troll in the delegation, High Warden Korruk of the Clan Rusk, came toward her. He stopped a few feet away and gave a short bow. “Your highness.”

She would need to get him alone at some point to discuss the betrothal. “High Warden Korruk, welcome once again to Castle Hayze.” She offered him her hand.

He took it in his, his fingers nearly twice the width of one of hers, and brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a kiss across them.

She wondered how much effort that had taken, to perform such a delicate move. The man was almost as broad as he was wide and nearly as tall as Trog.

“It is our pleasure to be here,” he replied as he straightened.

“I’m sorry for redirecting your travels. Things at Willow Hall did not go as planned.”

He nodded. “I understand. It’s fine. King Drath sends his regards as well as the gift of two new warhorses, which we’ve delivered to your stablemaster.”

“That was very kind. I am grateful.” Her stablemaster, Mucklow, would be very pleased. New breeding stock was always prized.

Korruk glanced at Trog before speaking again. “Everything else is all right?”

She gave a brief shake of her head. “I wish I could say otherwise, but there is a new queen in Summerton, one I fear seeks a great deal of additional power.”

He nodded. “We’ve heard. Are you saying she wants control over Malveaux?”

“I think there’s nothing she’d like more.” Anyka took a glass of wine from a server who appeared with a tray. “She has previously used magic on my kingdom.”

His thick brows bent. “In what way?”

Anyka had given this much thought, and there was no way to get the trolls completely committed to her without giving them some details.

“She stole an ancient grimoire from me and used it to remove the curse from Malveaux. I’m sure you’ve noticed the sun.

” She pursed her lips. “I was preparing to do it, which was why I had the book, but she stole the grimoire and took the glory for herself.”

“Despicable,” Korruk said.

“Even more so because she did it while preaching peace. She just wants my people to think she’s some kind of benevolent force.” Anyka sighed deeply. “I fear it’s only a taste of what she’s capable of. That her treachery will extend to my crown.”

“My lady, say it isn’t so.”

“I wish I could, but she has blamed me for so much already.” Anyka shrugged as if she were helpless. “I will not give in to her. I will not allow my people to be pawns in whatever game she is playing. Regrettably, war feels … unavoidable.”

His eyes narrowed, and again he nodded. “You know we stand with you. With the kingdom of Malveaux.”

She reached out to touch his arm. “For which I am eternally grateful. If only there was some way to show her that I am not going to back down.”

He moved closer. “A show of force.”

She narrowed her eyes as if she didn’t understand. “She has the hill people on her side. The Wyvern. They’ve already terrified my citizens by flying over the kingdom and spreading that wretched woman’s propaganda. In fact, I will be issuing a proclamation about it tomorrow.”

“A proclamation is good, but wouldn’t something more tangible have a greater effect?”

“You speak as though you have something in mind.”

“As it happens?—”

Before he could say anything more, they were joined by a pair of trolls, a man and a woman.

Korruk stepped back, greeting them with a smile. “Just the pair I wanted to see. Queen Anyka, may I introduce Ironvoice Varn and his wife, Stonecaller Brentha.”

Varn bowed and Brentha curtseyed, no small feat for a woman of her size.

“Brentha is a stonecaller of the highest order, skilled in the most ancient magic of our people,” Korruk said. “I believe she could help you with your proclamation tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Anyka lifted her brows. A highly ranked stonecaller would have the equivalent of Nazyr’s power. Possibly more, but troll magic was different. Deeply elemental.

Brentha nodded. “I would be pleased to help in whatever way I can.”

Anyka thought a moment. “Are your gifts restricted in any way because you’re not in your own country?”

Brentha’s hesitation seemed answer enough. “There are some … let’s call them difficulties, but nothing I cannot work around. What did you have in mind?”

Anyka looked around. There were too many ears and eyes. “After dinner, we will talk further. I want a few of my ministers to be present. My uncle as well. We’ll adjourn to the formal sitting room and have our discussion there.”

She found Wyett and gave him the signal to start the dinner service.

If all went well, tomorrow would be a very interesting day.