“I have no need of a champion,” Yserria replied, “but if you want the torque, you will either have to remove my head or convince my king to unclasp it.”
Erisial looked down to Yserria. “A man has placed a collar on your neck, and you not only accept it, but fight for it. Dear girl, do you know why he did this to you—with this necklace? Because he wants me to know he can. He takes a strong woman, a knight, a future matrianera of House Rey, and chains her.”
“With all due respect, Queen Erisial, you misunderstand. I placed the collar on my own neck when I chose to swear fealty to him. It is his prerogative.”
Erisial’s expression changed, and she smiled with pleasure. “No, I understand.” She waved a hand around the crowd. “Almost any of these women would wear that torque if he presented it to them. That torque, that comes either with the blessing of the Adana’Ro or the strength of one who took it from them, also bears the weight of the untouchable King’s Tournament Champion, the rebel King of Ashai, he who claims the princess of Channería, a warrior who defeats a Gendishen army and is brazen enough to demand payment from its king. That torque on your neck in this hall means he is at your call. You may not need a champion, Daughter of Rey, but he is yours nonetheless.” Her gaze roved the faces again. “Every woman in here knows this. He knows this. It was well played.”
She captured Yserria’s gaze and said, “If you intended to stay in Lon Lerésh, I would kill you now lest you steal my throne.” To Yenis, she said, “Do you accept Yserria back into your house?”
Yenis, who had earlier appeared so uncertain of the queen’s reaction, practically leapt forward. Excitedly, she said, “Yes, Queen Erisial, my sister’s daughter is most welcome in the House of Rey.”
Erisial nodded, obviously having expected it, and said to Yenis, “You may join my council.”
Yenis grinned broadly and practically ran to join the sour-faced advisors.
Yserria glanced back at her companions and then past them to Rezkin. He had told her the torque had meaning, but she had not imagined the gift might make her a contender for the throne. She looked down at Frisha, who would not meet her gaze and then turned back to the queen.
Erisial was watching her carefully, and Yserria had no idea what the woman saw in her. She had the same sharp, endless gaze that Rezkin often wore, the one that seemed to see through everything and everyone at once.
The woman said, “You may introduce your companions, Yserria of House Rey.”
Yserria stepped aside and said, “This is Mage Nanessy Threll, Swordswoman and Apprentice Healer Reaylin de Voss, and Lady Frisha Marcum.”
The woman’s senses zeroed in on Frisha. “Marcum … as in relation to the Ashaiian General Marcum?”
Frisha gripped her filmy shawl tight to her shoulders and said, “Yes, I am his heir.”
“With what interesting company your king travels,” the woman mused. “Who is the boy?” she said with a nod.
Nanessy quickly said, “That is Journeyman Mage Wesson.”
“You are his tutor?” Erisial said.
“Um, sometimes, I suppose,” Nanessy said uncertainly. They had been instructed not to lie, since there were truthseekers present, but to downplay Wesson’s role where they could.
“Explain,” said the queen.
Nanessy said, “He did not attend the mage academy, so there are some formalities with which he is unfamiliar. I am also assisting him in his pursuits since he is young and has not yet reached the rank of full mage. He has not been able to achieve his goal of becoming a life mage.”
Seemingly satisfied, the queen’s attention lifted to the dark wraith at the opposite end of the hall. The others moved out of the way as he strode forward on silent feet. His forward motion ceased at the foot of the pedestal, upon which the queen stood nearly at his eye level. He performed the slightest bow in greeting but not one that could be mistaken for submission.
“Am I to treat with a mask?” she said.
Rezkin removed the mask and met her amber stare. Her attempt to conceal her surprise was not lost on him.
“So young,” she murmured. “Your name?”
“As I told your council, I have none.”
“Impossible,” she said.
“You should know. Your power has saturated the room since you entered. You are a truthseeker, are you not?”
“Yes, yet I sense no power from you.”
Her power surrounded him as he met her dispassionate stare. “I am not a mage.”
“What are you?”
“I am the King of Cael, True King of Ashai.”
A spark lit in her honey-colored eyes, and she gazed around the room. Her voice echoed off the walls as she said, “Lon Lerésh does not recognize your claim to Cael until it is recognized by Gendishen, and we do not recognize your claim to Ashai until you wear the crown. You are not granted the immunity due one of royal blood—unless you would like to submit proof of such a claim?”
Rezkin said, “Any woman who attempts to claim me will end up disappointed and without a champion.”
Erisial grinned. “We shall see. For now, you will be my personal guest at the table, and we shall dine.”
She waved a man forward. He had the bearing of a soldier, but the clean-cut impassivity of a politician. “This is my consort, Serunius. He will serve you.”
Rezkin’s icy gaze flicked to Serunius. The man did not look pleased. Erisial observed Serunius’s expression and said, “Is there a problem, my love?”
The man turned to her with dark eyes, and some unspoken message passed between them. He appeared resigned as he said, “No, My Queen. I understand.”
Rezkin understood, too. The fact that the queen would have her consort serve him made her intention clear.
He said, “You will not get what you want.”
She smiled knowingly and said, “You will change your mind.”
They spoke no more of it during dinner. Instead, they discussed numerous other subjects from history to politics to art and culture. At first, Rezkin felt like he was being quizzed by his masters, but he knew what the woman was doing. It was for the same reason that she had listed his accomplishments and emphasized the power behind the gift of the torque. She wanted to impress. She wanted everyone else to know of his superiority. Like the woman, Nayala, with her consort, the queen was bragging.
When Rezkin and his companions finally returned to their suite, he was disconcerted.
“What is wrong, Rezkin?” said Frisha.
He glanced at her and then went back to checking for traps and poisons. “The queen intends to claim me.”
“What? No!” she blurted. “I mean, she can’t do that, can she? You are a king. She can’t claim a king.”
“She does not recognize me as an independent monarch. We are in her country, and she may do as she pleases.”
Frisha said, “But, you don’t have to accept her. It’s not like she can force you.”
“She can. She has the entire army of Lon Lerésh at her disposal, and I cannot possibly escape with all of you in tow. Plus, we would leave without Oledia.”
Frisha’s anger and frustration seemed to get the better of her as she said, “You don’t need her daughter. You don’t need King Privoth’s recognition. You said before that we can just keep Cael. It’s enchanted. No one can force us from it.”
Rezkin said, “No, they likely cannot make us leave, but they can besiege us. You all are expecting me to take back Ashai, and darker forces are in play. I cannot prevail without allies and trading partners. Still, you are correct. I do not have to accept her claim if I beat her champion. Only a woman can challenge her claim, though.”
“Well, I can—”
“No.”
“Why not?” Frisha said.
“You are not Leréshi. The only way she would recognize your claim is if you were my wife, which means you would have to marry me.”
Frisha seemed at a loss for words, and he shook his head. “We are not doing that, Frisha. You made your decision after much deliberation. You will not change your mind in a moment of perceived duress.”