I’d expected surprise, maybe apathy, but never approval. Not like this. Everyone was clapping, both familiar faces and unfamiliar, as if they’d momentarily forgotten all the things I’d done.
Maybe this was as big for them as it was for me: a hundred years of unease was behind us. Signing the Wraith Alliance wasn’t going to fix problems, but it was a start.
One face stood out from the others. Prince Colin was smiling, but it was the curled smile of calculating his next move. If I signed this, he’d retaliate.
If I didn’t sign it, I wasn’t the queen my people needed.
I dipped my pen into the heavy black ink, and hesitated only a moment as I put together my signature in my mind. I’d practiced it since that day in James’s office, but this wasn’t practice. This was real.
I signed: Wilhelmina Korte, Princess of Aecor.
The applause lasted while I cleaned the nib and set aside the pen to join the others who’d signed.
As Tobiah took the center again, he sent a faint nod my way, and waited until the cheers died. “Today is indeed monumental. I only wish we could celebrate this signing properly.”
I bit my tongue to contain a snort. That was a lie if I’d ever heard one. Tobiah was notorious for skipping social gatherings.
“There is one more event I’m pleased to say has been moved up.” He lifted a hand toward Meredith. She glided forward, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “It’s important to both Lady Meredith and me that all our guests join us on our wedding day. While we considered keeping our original date of the winter solstice, we know the uncertain climate here must make everyone eager to return home.
“As such, my fiancée and I have decided to move forward our wedding. The ceremony will be held in the palace chapel in two days, and will be immediately followed by Lady Meredith’s coronation. In two days, the Indigo Kingdom will have its new queen.”
NINETEEN
I HAD TO stop going to the throne room. Every time I did, Tobiah delivered bad news.
Though to be fair, the war situation was probably worse than the wedding being moved up.
But that evening, and the following, I went out earlier than usual so he wouldn’t find me; the last thing I wanted was a couple of awkward nights of vigilantism, both of us avoiding saying what we were thinking. I needed time alone. And finally, as I dispatched the final glowman of the night and started toward the palace again, I knew what I had to do.
I had to go home.
The Wraith Alliance was signed, the barrier facility was under way, and mirrors gleamed along the western reaches of Skyvale. I’d done what I could here, and now it was time to find Patrick and stop him from destroying my kingdom with this war.
The decision soothed me as I sneaked back through Hawksbill. It didn’t matter that what was coming would be incredibly difficult, or that I’d be fighting friends I’d trusted for years. What mattered was that I had a goal, even if I had to ride into Aecor, hunt down the Red Militia, and arrest Patrick myself.
Without thinking, I’d taken the usual route into the King’s Seat, so I wasn’t surprised when a black-jacketed figure peeled from the darkness around a statue of Terrell the First. “Avoiding me?” asked the shadow.
“Avoiding everyone.”
“I see.” His gaze stayed steady on mine. “Tonight was my last night.”
Because tomorrow he’d be married. “I know.” I hadn’t thought about it, maybe, but of course it had to be over for him.
He started walking the path we normally took, motioning for me to follow. A few minutes later, we reached one of the outbuildings behind the palace.
“James and I used to practice in here,” he said. “Before you came. Then we spent most of our free time trying to figure out why you and Melanie were impersonating Liadian nobility.”
He closed the door and turned on the light, revealing a wide, empty floor of dusty hardwood. Crates had been shoved against the walls, while shelves sagged with molding table linens, place settings, and old lighting fixtures.
“This was a storage building until we took over.” He tore off his mask and scowled around the room. “It still is, I guess.”
I took off my mask, too. “This is the kind of place where the Ospreys trained. You were a prince. Wasn’t there somewhere nicer? Actual practice rooms?”
“Sure,” he said. “But there were always people watching me. Not just our trainers, but nobility, too. It was alarming how much they wanted to see whether James and I would cut each other, or watch our teachers smack us with the flat of their blades when our performance was unsatisfactory.” He swept his hand around the room. “I needed this place where I could really practice, because in public, I had to give the illusion of being a mediocre swordsman.”
Tobiah’s past floated on the dust motes around us. If I closed my eyes, maybe I’d be able to hear echoes of his sword crashing against James’s.
“You should use this room,” he said, “unless you’re planning on giving up this nocturnal habit.”