Bearers of the Black Staff

None.

The Elfstones were all they had, and if her grandmother was to be believed—which Phryne thought she was—the Elves had ignored that magic completely.

She was also still troubled by her father’s decision to marry someone like Isoeld. It wasn’t that his remarriage was a betrayal of his vows to her mother; she didn’t think that way. It was the clear stupidity of his choice. A treacherous, duplicitous girl too young by half, a girl with no intention of respecting her marriage vows, a schemer with ambitions that far exceeded her concerns for her husband, Isoeld was a poor choice at best and a foolish, dangerous one at worst. That her father seemed so unaware of this, so blind to it, suggested that he had somehow lost his way. If that were so, how effective could he be at wielding the magic of the Elfstones, a power that worked best where the heart, mind, and body must all be strong?

She didn’t know. Clearly, her grandmother had made up her mind on the matter. But Mistral Belloruus had never liked her father, even when he was married to her mother. She had tolerated him, but she had never approved of him. It was why, after Phryne’s mother was gone, she had cut herself off from him completely.

It was also why she felt her granddaughter was the right choice to bear the Elfstones.

But even if Phryne accepted that her grandmother was right and her father lacked the strength of character needed to use the Elfstone magic, why would she be a better choice? Even if she accepted the gift of the Elfstones, what was she expected to do with them? She hadn’t been trained in battle arts. She knew next to nothing about fighting, and she wasn’t even particularly strong. Yet if she took the Elfstones, wouldn’t she have to stand at the forefront of the Elven army against the Troll invaders? Ultimately, wasn’t that what would be expected of anyone who wielded the Stones?

The Orullian brothers would roll over laughing at the very idea. The brothers, her cousins, would never let her live it down if they heard that she was even considering such a thing.

She was so uncomfortable with the idea that she made up her mind on the spot that she was going to reject her grandmother’s offer of the Elfstones. Even if Mistral Belloruus was right and her father was the wrong choice to bear the magic, that did not make Phryne the right one. Someone else would better serve the Elven people. Someone with experience and a lifetime of dedication working for the good of the people. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t think of anyone like that offhand. Given time, she would be able to come up with a name. Or two.

She could.

She was mulling over how to tell her grandmother all this when her father walked into her room and sat down across from her. She looked up expectantly, not sure why he was there.

“I’ve been summoned to a meeting with Isoeld,” he said after a minute, looking unsure of how to proceed with what he had to say. “She says it has something to do with our relationship and my service as Elven King. She wants you there, too. Do you have any idea what this is about?”

This was Phryne’s chance to say something about Isoeld’s affairs with other men, about her cheating on her husband. After all, it was possible that she had become ashamed enough of her behavior that she was going to do the right thing and step aside as Queen. That was what Phryne would have liked to believe, but she couldn’t quite make herself do so. Nothing about Isoeld suggested that the word shame was even familiar to her.

So she just shook her head. “I don’t.”

Her father nodded, looking distracted. “Perhaps I’ve done something to anger her and I need to apologize …”

“Perhaps you’ve done nothing wrong at all!” Phryne snapped, unable to listen to such nonsense. “Perhaps she’s the one who’s done something wrong and needs to apologize to you!”

Her father looked startled. “What do you mean? What do you think she might have done?”

Phryne shook her head. “Nothing. I just don’t think you should assume you’ve done anything.”

“That isn’t how you made it sound.” Her father shook his head. “I thought you two were getting along better.”

“We are,” she lied. She made a vague gesture toward the doorway. “Is she coming here for this meeting? Or are we supposed to go to her? When is it, anyway?”

“Right now, in the family library. Are you ready?”