The other people in the room—Brennan Crewe and an old woman named Deborah who had been the city master of Jannuari before the takeover and had fallen back into her role without a blink from anyone—seemed willing to stay away from him, something for which Mather couldn’t havebeen more grateful. Phil had gotten another few crates of ale from the Cordellans, letting all who had avoided the celebration a few nights ago relive that evening in the cottage every night since. Which was great fun during the drinking, but once morning came . . .
Mather pressed his fist against a throbbing vein that cut through the middle of his forehead. The ale left him feeling like he’d been dragged through a battle without armor, his eyes filled with bolts of pain, his body sagging from a raging headache. He leaned against one of the shelves, wincing to keep the bread he’d choked down for breakfast in his stomach. Thank the ice above that Meira’s departure had delayed the Winterian army’s usual training—Mather wasn’t sure he could hide another morning of being hungover from William.
Alysson swept into the room, her pale hands cupped around a goblet. She walked up to Mather without any of the pleasantries he expected, and before he could clear away the fog of his hangover, she shoved the goblet to him.
“Drink this,” she ordered.
Mather squinted at her, then at the cup in his hands. “I . . . what?”
She placed her palm on his face, her skin cool against his clammy cheek. “Drink this,” she said again, this time in the patient, careful tone Mather was used to from her. The woman who mended their injuries and nursed them back to health and sent them off on missions with this same tendercheek pat, a mild yet staunch show of belief.
Hating William was easy. Hating Alysson took more effort than Mather had.
Mather raised the goblet to his lips and downed a swig before the horrid taste hit him. Like eggs left too long in the sun, like meat gone rancid. He hacked and doubled over, one wrong breath away from reliving everything he had consumed last night in reverse.
He gagged. “What is this?”
Alysson squeezed his shoulder. “A remedy for your ailment. It will take away your headache and nausea, but remember this delicious flavor should you insist on drinking so much again. Which won’t be any time soon, will it?” Her tone pulled taut in a way that said she wouldn’t accept anything but agreement. She patted his cheek once more as he stayed bent before her, arms around his middle, stomach churning like an angry sea. “Drink up, sweetheart. Every drop.”
Mather collapsed onto the frayed carpet in a burst of dust. He looked up at her with hooded eyes as she scooted papers off a chair and sat next to Deborah, who shook her head at him disapprovingly. Brennan, on the other hand, leaned against the shelves and stifled a smile, no doubt enjoying Mather’s torment.
When he met Alysson’s eyes again, he knew this beverage was meant to be more of a punishment than a cure. Honestly, he was surprised he’d gotten away with four nights ofsuch behavior—though he had expected the repercussions to come from William.
Luckily the study door opened again and William entered. All attention swung to him, everyone standing straighter, but Mather merely sank more heavily into the floor and sipped at the repulsive concoction in his hand. His cheeks puffed in an uncontrollable gag. This stuff was awful even in small increments.
William walked behind his desk, pulled out the chair, and stopped, like he couldn’t decide whether to sit or run back out of the room. His forehead wrinkled, his pallor sullen, so like the William that Mather used to know.
Mather set the goblet on the floor and stood, taking a single step forward in the silence. Before he could ask anything, William straightened.
“Captain Crewe called this meeting,” William began. “Though I am surprised King Noam did not delay his trip to join us.”
Brennan straightened. “As you might expect, my king is eager to secure the Tadil Mine and is already on his way to Gaos. He left me with explicit instructions to carry out regarding Winter’s future in the face of this most joyous change.”
Mather groaned. One thing he did not miss about being king was useless political maneuvering. How everyone in this room knew exactly what the magic chasm’s discoverymeant—one more snare for Winter in Cordell’s trap—but no one could counter Brennan without defying Noam.
Brennan pressed on. “My king has decided that it is not in Winter’s best interest to train an army at this point in your rebirth. Cordell will continue defending Winter, and as such, you will shift all focus to construction or mining, to benefit your economy and stability as a kingdom. You are to cease training, effective immediately.”
William ground his fingers around the back of his chair, the only outward sign of his anger. “This is not a decision we can agree to without our queen’s approval.”
Mather almost laughed. “This isn’t a decision we can agree toat all!”
Both Brennan and William shot him looks: Brennan, one of disdainful amusement; William, a narrow-eyed plea to be silent.
Mather blinked, certain he had to be seeing incorrectly. Surely William would back him up in this. Surely he wouldn’t let Noam stifle them even more.
Brennan wiped an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve. “Your queen’s approval does not matter. On this issue my king is most adamant.” He lifted his gaze to William. “And after the ceremony incident, it would truly be in Winter’s best interest to comply. I must return to my men.” Brennan made for the door. “Thank you for your time.”
Silence coated the air after Brennan had left. Matherhesitated at the edge of the room, eyes fixed on William, waiting, hoping,needingfor him to leap after Brennan and refute the orders.
But William only lowered into his chair, his body rigid.
Mather couldn’t take it any longer. “You know this is Noam’s way of keeping us weak.”
William broke out of his stupor. “Of course I know,” he barked. “Why do you think he waited until he and the queen had left to give the order? He didn’t want to face any possibility of our conduit rejecting him.”
Mather pulled back. “Our conduit? You meanMeira?”
William frowned at him. “That is how we must see her—as our connection to the locket. That is how the kingdoms of the world operate; their monarchs are links to magic, while a select few people truly run the government. We are a kingdom of the world now.”
