“Of course,” Ashared said smoothly.
Lannahi inclined her head and stood up. “I’m going to have dinner with the chancellor and the army commander. You are invited as well.”
Ashared responded with a slight bow. “And Lizaar?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation.
Lannahi smiled. “If you show me where her chamber is, I will invite her too.”
***
After leaving the council room, Lannahi found out that Souhi, Blann, and Esau had gone with a stewardess named Gannar to inspect the chamber intended for the new queen. Lannahi felt uneasy upon hearing this news, but she trusted both Souhi’s judgment and Esau’s strength and didn’t let the distress show on her face.
She followed Ashared, her thoughts worrying over what Lizaar declared only minutes before.
The mine, the city’s main source of income, could be destroyed at any time.
The military would not fight for her.
Angry shapeshifters prowled the area.
She’d expected the first two threats. It would be naïve to believe that landshapers would accept the change in power without any resistance. Yet, Lizaar’s vision niggled her. A lonely queen abandoned by her people… She could easily imagine the taunting stares and smiles. She had little chance of winning a one-on-one duel, let alone facing an army, so the only way to preserve her life would be to abdicate. In the eyes of the fae, she would be the one who surrendered, and in the Royal Game, the price for that was slavery. Even if she escaped Nihhal, the other fae wouldn’t treat her much better. As long as Sarkal was alive, he could help her hide, but just thinking about it, Lannahi felt humiliation and shame. It was better to die…
…though perhaps not because of the shapeshifters.
Her plan relied heavily on her father’s reputation, but Lannahi knew that even if something happened to her, Sarkal wouldn’t take revenge on the citizens of Goldfrost. Her mother told her that outright—if Lannahi wanted to be considered a true queen, she had to consolidate her power herself. If she died at the hands of her subjects, her parents would view it as her own failure. The landshapers did not know this and she could manipulate their uncertainty in her favor. But shapeshifters weren’t citizens of Goldfrost. They didn’t care about the Black Tower Rules or her father’s reputation.
What would happen if Lannahi fell victim to them? Would her father ignore it then?
Another stone of anxiety crushed her chest.
The scenario in which kingdoms were torn apart in war suddenly became a very real possibility.
Thud.
A dull sound came from somewhere at the top of the stairs. Ashared halted, causing Lannahi to stop as well.
“What was that?” she asked vaguely.
“I’m not sure,” Ashared said, looking up. He listened for a while, and when the noise didn’t continue, he resumed the climb.
In the corridor, they were greeted by the guards’ grim faces, but it wasn’t them what attracted Lannahi’s attention. It was the wide-open door leading to a chamber Esau was peeking in.
“If it goes on like this, I’ll grow thorns,” Blann’s voice reached them.
“That’s what they want,” Souhi replied.
“They want to see my thorns?”
“They want to unsettle us.”
Esau heard their footsteps and glanced in their direction. “They’re coming,” he informed the women in the room, then stepped back and stood next to the door, casting the newcomers a wary look.
“Problems, Esau?” Lannahi asked, passing Ashared.
Before the man had time to respond, Blann emerged from the chamber, her hair flashing red. “Your room smells,” she complained. “The carpet is dirty, and the furniture is broken. The bed collapsed as I sat on it.”
Preoccupied with ponderings about war and death, Lannahi needed a moment to understand the implication of what was being said to her. “Show me,” she asked, and Blann stepped aside to make way for her.
For a minute, Lannahi felt irritated. She had more important things on her mind. Did the landshapers really think it was a good idea to retaliate in such a childish manner? Then she entered the room and her annoyance turned into grim understanding. A stained old carpet, an unpleasant smell, the clashing colors of the curtains—all this was an insult. A collapsed bed with four columns, one of which tilted heavily to one side threatening to crush the remaining furniture—an attack.
