“With help from Tovian.”
I am positively snarling. Every doubt that’s been eating away at me, every frustration, comes spilling out.
“Iam the one who led the resistance effort while Lorcan was floating unconscious in a tank for four months! Me! This has been a group effort from the start, and there is no reason why Lorcan should receive all the accolades!”
Stunned silence on the other end. Eventually, my father says cautiously, “Perhaps this awful war is an opportunity for rethinking our traditions. Auralian society has become a bit…” He paused as if searching for the right word. “Sclerotic.”
“King Rohan would protest mightily.”
Emotion leaches out of me in a rush, like a tub gurgling the last swish of water down the drain. I’m not angry with my father. He made it possible for me to play a significant role in the resistance effort.
I’m disappointed in Lorcan and wondering how well I ever truly knew him. I ache with the loss. I hate who he’s become, and I don’t know where he fits in my life now.
Yet he’s lost and hurting, too. I can’t bring myself to abandon him. We’re just…stuck.
“He would.” My father chuckles mirthlessly. “He wanted to uphold our traditions while pleading to outsiders for help. I admire him. He was a good man. I cannot wait to clasp his hand in friendship again. Yet his approach has been an undeniable disaster.”
Was. A tiny slip. A revelation. My father doesn’t think his friend is coming back.
If Rohan is dead, chances are that Zosia is, too.
We have got to get into that damned castle. To get answers, if nothing else.
Finally, Lorcan seems fired up to go and find her. What changed, I don’t know. What I do know is that if Saskaya couldn’t shut off those stupid Sentinels by now, they’re not getting shut off. The only person who’s ever managed to destroy one is Lorcan. After the carnage they wrought on the countryside, I couldn’t convince a brigade of our strongest fighters to take them on.
“We’ve all been wrong, Papa.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “About so many things.”
Another strained silence.
“Perhaps I, more than anyone.” He sighs. “Bring Tovian to River Bend. I will cajole the priests into accepting your wedding, if you absolutely must have him for your king.”
A lone teardrop made a trail down my cheek.
“Thank you, Papa.”
I’d rather he welcomed Tovian as kindly as Brenica has welcomed me. But it’s acceptance, and I’ll take it on any terms I can get it.
#
For all that his cockiness annoyed the shit out of me, Lorcan knows his way around a battle plan, and his went off without a hitch.
The last of the pirates were driven off the island, leaving only the shadowy Skía to skulk back to their home villages and blend in. Pretend nothing had happened. It didn’t mean we were totally free of the enemy. Desperate people will cling to any scrap of hope. They set up a camp on one of the rocky atolls just off the protective rock ridge. There wasn’t much point in chasing them further. Their motorized boats were faster than our sailboats, and with neither water nor leadership, baking in the hot sun, they would eventually go of their own accord.
At least, this was the plan conveyed to me.
I didn’t much like being cut out of everything. This was precisely the situation I’d hoped to avoid by coming south in the first place: me, cowering in safety, while the real heroism took place far away.
I’d better get used to it. Queens did not go into battle, never mind pregnant ones.
That was the price of Tovian’s acceptance. Our wedding meant I would finally take my rightful place on the Myseci throne. I’ve trained for it all my life. I don’t want to give it up.
The minute Tovian arrived to retrieve me from Ansi Village, I ran down the spiraling ramp and flung myself into his arms. He caught me easily and swung me around.
“We’re done. It’s done, Sunshine. Our country is ours again.”
I could hardly contain my glee.
“And you’re here unscathed.” Frowning, I corrected myself. “What’s this? A scratch?”
