Telía pulled her hand back, doing her best to hide her surprise. “I had forgotten that you carry a sword. Someone mentioned that you are a knight. Do you know how to use it or is it a ceremonial position?”
An eerie, deep voice rumbled through the doorway. “I would wager she can wield it better than your champion,” Dark Tidings said as he came to stand among the women.
He towered over them, his shadowy presence in contrast to the colorful array of silks and jewels. The empty black gaze turned toward Telía, and he added, “Should she challenge you for your champion?”
A man in a palace guard’s formal uniform, presumably Telía’s consort by the concern on his face, cautiously approached but did not interrupt.
Telía’s voice wavered as she said, “No, of course not. What would I gain should he win?”
Rezkin stepped behind Yserria and tugged the shawl from her shoulders to expose the green, lacy bustier hidden beneath. He reached around and ran a finger over her bare skin just below the torque. “This,” he said.
Nayala and Telía’s eyes widened, and Yserria’s skin reddened as everyone’s attention followed a tide of whispers straight to her bosom.
“Adana’Ro,” Nayala whispered.
“It was a gift,” Yserria said quickly. “A gift from my king.” She turned and executed a formal curtsy toward Dark Tidings. It was awkward for her, but she would have felt ridiculous saluting in her state of dress.
“Do you accept the challenge?” Dark Tidings said, his attention on Telía.
Telía drew her gaze away from the torque, glanced at the sword, and then stared into Yserria’s green eyes. “No, I do not desire the challenge.”
Dark Tidings said, “Although the ladies with whom I travel are all attractive, I did not choose them for their beauty. They are all capable, so you should not press them.”
They now had the attention of everyone in the large room. Telía shrugged as if suddenly unconcerned. “I was only curious. Leréshi women do not usually carry swords. We have champions to do that sort of thing for us.”
Yserria’s painted lips pulled into a tight grin. “Then it is a good thing your champions are always near when you need them.”
Telía’s spine straightened, and she smiled in return. “Quite,” she said and then walked away, her consort trailing behind her.
Nayala’s grin was genuine as she watched Telía’s departure. “That was beautiful,” she murmured. Turning back to them, she said. “Telía almost never backs down from a challenge. Dayleen”—she nodded toward a laughing brunette surrounded by several friends—“will have drawn ahead now that Telía has lost significant ground. Be wary. She will seek to gain it back.”
Yserria said, “I was not trying to become involved in your politics.”
Nayala shrugged one shoulder. “She was rude, and her plan—whatever it was—backfired. She should have known better, but she is becoming desperate, I think.”
“Desperate for what?” Reaylin said as she peered around Nayala.
“The throne, of course.”
Reaylin looked back to her with wide eyes. She appeared thoroughly engrossed in the political drama. “What do you mean?”
Nayala pursed her lips and then sighed. “I suppose there is no harm in explaining it to you. Before Queen Erisial took the throne, Telía’s family was expected to produce the next monarch. They had the greatest political support in the court, seconded only by Erisial; and Telía’s mother, Paksis, had made some profitable deals that had gained her favor with several prominent echelons.”
“Echelons?” Reaylin said.
“The governors of the provinces,” said Dark Tidings.
Nayala blinked up at him as though she had somehow forgotten his presence.
“Yes,” she drawled, looking at him suspiciously. “Erisial knew that if she waited much longer, Paksis would take the throne, so she claimed it first and sent Paksis on a diplomatic mission to Gendishen. She did not return. Since then, Telía’s house has been in decline. There are now three others of nearly equal influence. You have already met them. They escorted you from the docks.”
Reaylin said, “You’re saying that the four women who are most likely to claim the throne from Queen Erisial are her closest advisors?”
Nayala smiled again. “Oh, I doubt they do much advising or that the queen has any interest in what they have to say. I believe your kingdom has the phrase as well—keep your enemies close. Erisial has always been daring. She keeps one guessing. She has plans within plans. Even the slightest move against her could have disastrous consequences. She has been very generous with her advisors. To have four high houses of nearly equal strength is unheard of and a sure way for her to keep her head.”
“So none of them are strong enough to challenge her,” Reaylin said with a giddy grin.
Dark Tidings said, “You do not seek the throne, Matrianera Nayala?”
Nayala again appeared startled, as if noticing him for the first time. She laughed and said, “No, the path to the throne leads to an early death. I would prefer to see my daughters grown. Still, I have been named a contender for the Sixth Echelon. It is a nice province, distant but peaceful.”
Reaylin bounced on her toes. “Congratulations.” She looked at Yserria and Nanessy who were standing to either side of her and said, “This is so exciting.”
Frisha, who hovered beside Rezkin behind them, mumbled, “I don’t see what’s so exciting about killing each other for positions of power.”
Reaylin rounded on her. “They’re women, Frisha. Women with power, and not all of us are handed the chance to become queen.”
“Well, not all of us want it!” Frisha snapped.
A haunting melody echoed through the hall as the musicians began to play, and Nayala smiled happily as she turned to watch her consort. She called over her shoulder, “The queen has arrived.”
On cue, several royal guardsmen entered the hall from the end opposite them. A woman in her midthirties followed, wearing a gown made entirely of cream colored feathers tied loosely with silk cord. The feathers swayed and floated as she walked, allowing glimpses of the tanned skin underneath. Her golden-blonde hair was pulled back so that thick waves of curls flowed behind her. Atop her head was a glittering crown of yellow gold and diamonds, and a long strand of saltwater pearls rested between her barely concealed breasts. She stepped onto a short pedestal at the front of the hall, turned, and waited.
The attention turned toward the visitors. Nayala quickly stepped out of the way, retreating with a Leréshi bow. Rezkin whispered a reminder to the women to present themselves. Yserria led the procession, crossing the hall with as much confidence as she could muster, her shawl hanging loosely behind her.
She curtsied before the queen and spoke in Ashaiian for the sake of her companions. “I am Yserria Rey, Knight of the Realm, Royal Guard of Cael.”
Erisial’s honey colored gaze lingered on Yserria’s features. Finally, she said, “Yserria, daughter of Ienia and niece of Yenis of House Rey.”
A wave of whispers passed through the onlookers.
“That is correct,” Yserria said with a quick glance around her.
Erisial’s gaze traversed the crowd and came to rest on an older woman who bore a pensive expression. “Yenis, your sister’s daughter has returned, yet she serves another ruler, a man. She wears the Torque of Gereldina.” She turned back to Yserria. “I am told you were given this as a gift by your king.”
“Yes,” Yserria replied, her voice heavy with caution.
Erisial’s voice was firm but casual. “Give it to me.”
“I cannot,” Yserria said. “It is enchanted.”
“If you could?” Erisial said.
“I still would not give it to you. It belongs to me.”
Erisial said, “And if I challenged you for it, would your king serve as your champion?” Her gaze was no longer on Yserria. Her attention rested on Dark Tidings, who remained at the other end of the hall.