Page 32 of The Shadowed Throne (Midlife Fairy Tale #4)

A nyka’s anger smoldered the entire way back to the portal. In her head, she wrote scathing letter after scathing letter to the neph king, telling him exactly what she thought of him. But going through the portal and seeing Castle Hayze again took much of the fire out of her.

She was home, and she had no real need to align herself with the neph. Her daughter was about to marry the troll king’s son. The trolls were the fiercest warriors to walk the realm.

The neph couldn’t even go out in sunlight, which was now abundant in Malveaux, thanks to Sparrow’s meddling.

Her party rode toward the stables.

She was tired, smelled of horse, and was ready to retreat to her quarters for a long soak and a quiet dinner. Without Hawke. He could amuse himself this evening. She might do some reading or work one of the many puzzles she’d been meaning to get to.

She needed something mindless to occupy herself with.

She weighed the idea of going to meet Dren and his entourage when they arrived but didn’t care enough. The betrothal was sealed. Whether or not she showed up to welcome him to the palace would change nothing.

Tomorrow’s breakfast would be soon enough to see him. He would understand. She had a kingdom to run, and he was a small part of it. At least until he wed Beatryce. Then he would matter a bit more.

A stable hand ran up to take the reins from her and hold Nymbus while she dismounted. She slid to the ground, and Nymbus was led away.

She hoped their first child took on more of Beatryce’s bloodlines than Dren’s. Having a Grym king or queen who looked more troll than fae would be unfortunate. She would speak to Nazyr about that, see if there was something to be done to ensure— But Nazyr was not here, was he?

Her anger returned, shadows swirling in her mind. That foolish old wizard was worthless. When he did return, she was removing him from his position immediately. Grylan could take over.

Except she needed Nazyr if this plan to lure Sparrow out was to work. Didn’t she? Could requesting to meet to discuss peace really be enough? She doubted it.

Wyett came up to her. “I am sorry things did not work out differently, my lady.”

“Perhaps they worked out exactly as they were meant to.”

He nodded. “Perhaps they did.”

“Find out if there’s been any word on Nazyr and send a bottle of that pear brandy to my quarters. Oh, and have a guard sent up to relieve Trog so that he can have the rest of the night off.”

“Yes, my lady. Right away.” He took off.

Hawke approached next, a knowing smile on his face. “Pear brandy, eh? Would you like a little help drinking that?”

“No. I will see you at the welcome breakfast tomorrow.”

His smile fell, but she ignored him and started for the palace, Trog behind her. Hawke thought too much of himself, which was partially her fault. He was exceptionally good-looking, but there was no shortage of men who were willing to share her bed.

And yet he acted as though he was doing her a favor. What nerve. She raised her hand. “Trog.”

He grunted.

“When the guard arrives, you are relieved until breakfast.”

He grunted again.

She was only about halfway through her soak when there was a knock at her door, then she heard it open.

“My lady?” Wyett called out.

She relaxed on the steps of the bathing pool. “Wyett, I’m in the bath.”

His shadow fell across the threshold of the door, but he didn’t enter. “Trog has been relieved, the bottle of brandy is on your sideboard, and Nazyr is in his quarters.”

She sat up, splashing water. “What? He’s back?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I want to speak to him immediately. No, not immediately. In my own time. Did he say anything?”

“I haven’t seen him, just got the information from a footman.”

“He’s in his quarters?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll go see him in an hour. You’ll accompany me. Send Jenny in.”

“I’ll get her right away. Anything else I can do for you, my lady?”

She hesitated. “Do you think I should send another letter to the neph or ignore them?”

“My belief is they need you more than you need them, but of course, I will abide by whatever you think best.”

“No, you’re right. I’m done with them. And when I conquer Summerton, I will take the Charred Forest next. Then they can explain why they turned me away. Not that it will matter once I am their ruler.”

“Very good, my lady.”

She finished her bath, ending it sooner than she would have liked when Jenny arrived to dress her. “Keep it simple but regal.”

“Yes, my lady.” With a bow of her head and a bend of her knees, Jenny went off to fetch a dress and slippers.

Anyka dried off, looking at herself in the mirror. Her makeup would need touching up, too. So much work to see a man who ought to be banished for his actions. But she would wait and decide his fate after he explained himself.

After all, she needed him to help her lure Sparrow out.

Anyka met Wyett in the sitting room a few minutes before the hour was up. Her navy gown with burgundy trim and navy slippers bordered on austere, but she felt it conveyed the right image. She was there on business.

He stood as soon as she came in and quickly got the door for her.

It was odd not to have Trog in tow as they made their way to Nazyr’s quarters. Once they’d arrived, Wyett knocked. There was some shuffling, then the door opened.

Nazyr bowed deeply. “Your highness. Good evening.”

She pushed past him. Wyett came in behind her. Nazyr closed the door. He looked better than he had the last time she’d seen him. Perhaps he’d needed that time in the woods. “You disappeared without a word.”

“I left a note, your highness.”

“You disappeared without a word to me .”

He nodded, looking downcast. “I should have sent it directly to you. I know that now. I am sorry. Not just for the note but for the way I spoke to you. I was angry, and I let that anger get the best of me. Not my proudest moment. I accept whatever consequence you deem appropriate.”

She blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that. “You were rude and brash and utterly disrespectful.”

“I was; you are right. Again, I can only apologize and beg your forgiveness. I have not been myself since my contact with the Beyond, but that is no excuse for my behavior, either.”

His humility took the heat out of her. She frowned, reminded that his possession had been her fault. She pursed her lips, at odds with herself on how to handle this. “Did you find what you needed in the woods?”

“Most of it. Enough to keep me going for a while, I think.”

She took a seat, even though he hadn’t offered her one. She gestured to the chair across from her. “Sit.”

“Yes, your highness.” He did as she asked. “Would you care for something to drink? I have wine and a little brandy.”

“No.” She sighed as though the weight of the kingdom was especially heavy. “I am still greatly displeased with you, Nazyr.”

He nodded, head bowed. “I am displeased with myself.”

He was making this impossible. “There is something you can do for me to earn your way back into my good graces.”

Finally, he looked up. “What is it, your majesty?”

This would be the real test of his loyalty. “I want you to go to Summerton and speak to Queen Sparrow.”

“I don’t know that she’ll see me, your highness.”

Anyka frowned at him. “You are the father of her child, are you not?”

“Yes, but?—”

“Then find a way to use that and get an audience with her. You’re our best chance. And when you do speak to her, I want you to convince her to meet with me to discuss peace between our kingdoms.”

His brow furrowed. “You want peace?”

She laughed. “Of course not. That will never exist between us. But if I can get her to neutral ground, then I can put the next step of my plan into action. I’m hoping that’s something you can help me with as well.”

“And what might the rest of your plan be?”

“To eliminate her and take the Radiant throne for myself.”

For a brief moment, Nazyr looked stricken, then his expression changed into something more like curiosity. “You mean … kill her?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

“But even if you manage that, Prince James will be the next rightful heir.”

“Not if he dies in a tragic accident. Especially one that paints him as a coward. And I have Merediem.” Anyka preened, so pleased with her plan that it was impossible not to. “I’ve already got Grylan working on a spell that will enable me to take possession of the royal sword.”

“Do you? How … ingenious. Has he been successful?”

She waved off the question. “I don’t know. He’s only just begun. I expect a report from him later. Might be something you can help him with as well.”

“Quite possibly.” Nazyr nodded and stroked his chin. “What neutral ground do you plan to use for your meeting place?”

She stared at Nazyr.

He shook his head. “I am sorry, my lady. I would need some time to think.”

Wyett tapped his chin. “I have an idea. If I may.”

Anyka nodded. “Go on. What is it?”

Wyett’s eyes narrowed. “The place where no one wants to be for longer than they must. Tenebrae.”

“Tenebrae,” Anyka repeated, breathing the word out like a black magic oath. “That could work very well.”

“Yes,” Nazyr said. “I suppose it would.”

Her feelings of animosity toward Nazyr were gone. His time in the woods had been good for him. And he had apologized.

She smiled. “When can you leave for Summerton?”