The Reluctant Queen (The Queens of Renthia #2)

“Yes.”

“They aren’t waiting for dawn.” Daleina touched her spirits, felt their anger and fear. “They’ve already crossed.” She felt her earth spirits scrambling—the rocks were heaving around them, and they weren’t causing it. Jumping to her feet, she crossed to the door. Throwing it open, she ordered the guards. “One of you, find Chancellors Isolek and Quisala. Bring them here.” She stopped, considering it. “No, bring them to the Queen’s Tower. It has both privacy and a view of the north. I also want Headmistress Hanna from Northeast Academy and Champion Piriandra.” She shut the door as they hurried to comply.

Naelin and Ven were watching her.

She paced the length of the room, her gown brushing the edges of the furniture. The carpets absorbed her steps. She felt the spirits around her, in the palace—none of them were alarmed. Yet. The foreign spirits were still too far away.

She had time.

If she was willing to sacrifice the border.

“I’d hoped for more time, to get into position, to move our soldiers, to prepare you, Naelin.” Daleina took a deep breath. “This is the choice: option one, I use my power to control the spirits near the northern border. Fight off the invasion. But if I do that, I risk losing control in a false death—the spirits will turn on our people the instant they feel my control disappear. At the border, the spirits are too far away for you, Naelin, to control. Many would die.”

“Option one is bad,” Ven said. “Got that.”

“Option two, I abdicate right now. You become queen—go to the Queen’s Grove right now and take control. You control the spirits to fight off the invasion at the border.”

“Also bad,” Ven said. “While Naelin is repelling the invasion, she may not be able to defend you. The spirits will kill you.”

“But they won’t kill our people.” She didn’t like that option either, especially if Hamon was close to a cure . . . How close? How much time did she need to buy? Alet might not even have more of the poison in her possession. “Option three is the most selfish option, but it’s also the one most likely to work. We let the invasion happen. We don’t stop them at the border. We wait until the invaders reach the capital, and then once they’re here, within Naelin’s range, Naelin uses our spirits to fight Merecot’s spirits, while our soldiers repel Merecot’s soldiers. Once Hamon has the cure, I fight with her. Together, we drive them away.”

Naelin was frowning. “What happens to Aratay between the border and the capital?”

“We evacuate it, as best we can.” Their best, though, wouldn’t mean much. There wouldn’t be time. She knew that. Merecot wouldn’t be hampered by the speed of soldiers; she’d move at the speed of spirits, carrying her soldiers with her. Daleina turned to Naelin. “Merecot is powerful. And she’s had training. She’s also a queen, with all the extra strength that comes with it. What I’m asking—”

“I’ll do it,” Naelin said. “There’s no one else. I know that. I’ll stand between the queen of Semo and Aratay, between her and my children, for as long as you need me.”

As the wolf leaned against her as if in agreement, Daleina felt a little tendril of hope. She didn’t like this plan. She’d have to sit and wait while Merecot’s spirits tore apart her land. She’d have to leave her people undefended. But it was the best way to save the most lives . . . maybe even her own.





Chapter 30




Perhaps Captain Alet would be buried with honor at a later date, or at least dignity, but for now her body was laid on a kitchen cart that had last held a cake. Hamon had spread all of her belongings, lugged over from her quarters, across the floor of his mother’s living quarters. He, his mother, and Daleina’s sister, Arin, were pawing through them.

“Not the way I expected to spend tonight,” Mother commented. “Did you have to bring the corpse? It has an odor.”

“All death has an odor,” Hamon said without looking up. “You should know that by now. You’ve caused enough of it.”

“Now, is that the way to talk to someone who is letting you use her carpet?” Mother chided. She picked up a canister of cosmetics, opened it, sniffed it, closed it, and tossed it over her shoulder. It clattered to the ground, burst open, and sprayed rouge powder over the side of a couch.

“Technically, it is Queen Daleina’s carpet, and have you found anything?” Hamon knew he shouldn’t let his frustration show, or any emotion at all. Any emotion was a toy for his mother to play with. He’d theorized it was because she didn’t have any of her own. Except curiosity. That she had in abundance. It was a shame it wasn’t tempered by a shred of morality. Nodding at Arin, he said to his mother, “She shouldn’t be here.”

“She chose to be here,” Arin said without looking up from Captain Alet’s belongings.

“It’s true,” Mother said smugly. “Of her own free will. Not everyone thinks I’m evil.”

Hamon turned to Arin. “Arin, she used one of her potions on you—”

“I know. It wore off. I know what I’m doing, Hamon.”

He shook his head. She couldn’t possibly understand. Even if she had shaken off the effects of whatever potion, his mother was still a terrible influence. “Oh? What are you doing?”

“I’m saving my sister.” Arin lifted a black box out of a pile of clothing. Sitting back, she placed it on her lap. “I think I found it.”

All three of them crowded around as she opened the box. Rows of glass vials were packed between black silk. Reaching over, Hamon’s mother plucked one out. She held it up to the candlelight and shook it lightly. Amber liquid sloshed. “Interesting. Very interesting. And not part of an ordinary guard’s med kit.” She put it back into the box.

Hamon selected the next one. It held white crystals with gold flecks.

“Worth a fortune,” Mother commented. “You know what that is?”

“Dirthium.” It loosened muscles, lowered inhibitions, and caused blissful happiness, unless you took too much and then it resulted in painful death that shredded your internal organs at the same time as it messed up your sensory input. He put it back in the box.

“Your friend had a wealthy benefactor,” Mother said.

“Her sister,” Hamon said curtly. The dirthium was strong evidence that Alet had been telling the truth—But where’s the poison?

After examining them all, they had three vials with unknown substances in them. Mother clapped her hands like a child. “Exciting! Now if we only had someone to test these on—”

“No,” Hamon said. “We test them with equipment.”

“Poo. You’re no fun at all.”

“At least one of these is deadly,” he pointed out.

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