But it was not Kalahadd who was holding her by her hair.
“Are you all right, Your Highness?” Gannar asked, not even trying to pretend sympathy.
“You could have avoided this,” Lizaar said when Lannahi’s gaze moved to her. “But maybe it’s good that things turned out this way. We both got a little lost in this upheaval. It’s time to clarify some issues.”
The landshaper leaned back. “You have the title of Queen of Goldfrost, but you have no real power here. If you ever think otherwise, remember this day.”
Lizaar fell silent as if expecting an answer, but with a gag in her mouth and pain in her temples, Lannahi could only stare.
The red-haired woman’s gaze shifted upward to Gannar. After Lizaar nodded, the stewardess tightened her grip on Lannahi’s braid, and yanked her head back.
A smile of satisfaction. A flash of metal. The sound of scissors cutting.
When Gannar dropped Lannahi’s thick braid onto the floor, her opponent continued, “When we return from the Royal Sabbath, which you so eagerly wish to take part in, we will all pretend that this month was just a misunderstanding. Threaten me or any of my subjects and you and your companions will spend the rest of your reign imprisoned in the dungeons with your tongues cut out of your mouths.”
Lizaar straightened. “Think it over and decide whether you wish to return to your chambers or if you prefer the dungeons.”
Earlier, Lannahi was too shocked to understand the full extent of her humiliation, but now she felt her cheeks burn with a treacherous blush. A singer pretending to be a queen—that was who she was. How could she be so naive as to believe that her plan would succeed? She was like a child who thought she could do what adults did.
Lizaar pushed away from the table, ready to leave, when her eyes fell on the box. In a surge of mischief, she took out the collar and asked, “Don’t you wish to try it on?”
“I think it will suit you better.”
Everyone turned toward the door, but before anyone had time to react, Dallal said with his eyes fixed on the collar, “Strangle.”
The golden strap jerked out of Lizaar’s hands and flew for her throat. The woman barely let out a cry of surprise her when the collar snapped around her neck and started tightening.
“Hold him back,” Kalahadd bellowed toward the guards and darted toward Lizaar who slumped in a chair, trying to break off the collar.
Guardsmen rushed toward Dallal, but the enchanter didn’t give them time to carry out an attack. In a voice that reverberated through the chamber, he shouted, “On your knees, landshapers! I forbid you to use weapons and magic!”
A tug at her hair tilted her head back and Lannahi could only see the ornaments on the ceiling, but the sound of knees hitting the floor told her that Dallal’s enchantment had worked. Moments later, she heard the clang of chains and Akammu’s voice ordering them to restrain the guards, but she wasn’t given time to rejoice as Gannar, who kneeled beside her chair, roughly grabbed at her jaw and began to twist. “Call off your enchantment, witch!” she yelled. “If Lizaar dies, your queen will die too.”
Lannahi couldn’t see Dallal’s face, but she knew by his voice that he was approaching. “Don’t you dare threaten anyone, woman. Release her and lick the floor.”
The brutal hand finally let go of her hair. When Lannahi looked to the side, Gannar was moving away on her knees. She moved jerkily, like a puppet on a string.
A movement on the opposite side of the table drew Lannahi’s attention. Lizaar was thrashing in a chair, her face a puce red that darkened with each passing moment.
As Lannahi registered the horror around her, Blann walked over to her, removed the gag from her mouth, and wordlessly started untying her bound wrists.
“What is your wish, Your Highness?” Dallal asked. The front of his white shirt was stained with blood, but judging by his confident movements, the blood wasn’t his. “Do you wish to keep your slave or do you prefer to make an example of her?”
Lannahi was about to cry “Stop!” but something in the enchanter’s gaze stopped her.
Dallal is someone every ruler needs, and a young, inexperienced queen should have at her side, she remembered her mother’s words.
Lizaar’s face was a deathly purple when Lannahi said, “I want her to live. But the collar stays on.”
She struggled to control the tremor in her voice, but Dallal’s voice resembled a knife held with a steady hand. “Stop strangling,” he said to the strap wrapped around Lizaar’s neck, “but don’t let yourself be taken off.”
The collar loosened its grip and a moment later fastened with a soft click.
The sight of Lizaar gasping reminded Lannahi of the day she’d tried to break her own curse. She looked away from Lizaar and met Dallal’s watchful gaze. Some part of her still couldn’t believe that this conspicuous fae had such power, but at the same time, it was logical. Asirri wanted to protect her daughter. Of course, she’d send someone who would be able to handle the task.
But by saying that Dallal was someone every ruler needs, her mother hadn’t meant only his strength, had she?
“Good timing, soldier,” Lannahi said, forcing herself to smile.
