Copper Veins(8)

“I did not,” he said, his voice hardly audible. “She… my mother ordered the silverkin to protect me. I saw nothing of the attack.”

“Now you are aware.” Oriana dropped my hair and regarded Micah, her hands on her hips. “May I have your word that you’ll kill no more of my advisors?”

“As long as they do not threaten my wife, they are safe from me,” Micah replied.

A smile touched the corner of Oriana’s mouth. “That is a good response, Micah. A good response, indeed.” She began another, slower circle around us and murmured, “I trust you understand how damaging this is for you?”

“Damaging, my lady?”

“First the Inheritor of Metal refuses to pledge herself to me. Then you bed her sister and kill my advisor.” Oriana made one more circuit around Micah and me, stopping before us. “Planning a coup, are we?”

“No,” Micah replied. “Farthing Greymalkin killed my mother, and you ask this of me?”

“You yourself said you never knew of his role in Selene’s death,” Oriana said, shaking her finger as if Micah had been caught stealing a spoonful of sugar. “You cannot blame your actions on vengeance.”

Micah clenched his fists, but his tone remained civil. “You have my loyalty, along with my wife’s. We pledged freely to you.”

“Yes, yes, you did,” Oriana conceded. “But the lack of the Inheritor’s blood pledge to me worries me greatly. If she continues in her refusals, I will count this as the second time you have abandoned me.”

“Abandoned?” I repeated with a glance toward Micah.

“My queen, I have never abandoned you,” he ground out, but Oriana shook her head.

“Oh, but you did,” she countered. “After you stepped down as my general, I was overwhelmed by iron. My husband lost his head, and I my dignity.” She looked down, and picked at her dingy robe. “I suspect his fate was the more pleasant of the two.”

“Um, what are we talking about?” I fixed my gaze on Micah. “General?”

“I once led the Gold Queen’s army, as did my father before me,” Micah replied. “When my mother took ill, I relinquished my title.”

“That doesn’t sound like abandonment,” I murmured.

“Call it what you will, the lack of a proper general aided Ferra’s cause,” Oriana stated. “I needed you, Micah. I needed you when she rose against me, and you were nowhere to be found.”

“I was burying my mother,” Micah hissed.

“Yes, yes, my lamb,” Oriana said, patting Micah’s head. “But that is in the past. I am most concerned with the future. Tell me, what of the Inheritor? What are her plans?”

I resisted the urge to tell her that Sadie’s only plan was to install a vast library complete with Art Deco lamps and reading nooks. “The Inheritor has no designs upon your throne,” Micah stated. “Of that, I am certain.”

“We will bring her here to pledge her loyalty to you,” I blurted out. Man, I was good at speaking out of turn. “Tell us when, my lady, and we will rectify this mistake.”

Again, Oriana cocked her head to the side—she hadn’t expected that. “You will?”

“We will,” Micah proclaimed, lacing his fingers with mine. “We of the Silverstrand house will prove our loyalty beyond a shadow of doubt. On this, you have my word.”

Oriana nodded and gestured dismissively. Then she wandered up the steps of her dais and behind her throne, disappearing through a curtained exit. At least, I assumed there was a door behind the curtain—for all I knew she was standing among dust bunnies, hiding against a wall. Once again, Micah and I let ourselves out of the Golden Court. He was quiet as we navigated the golden hallways, but then, Oriana had given him much to think about.

“Hey,” I whispered, but Micah shook his head. Understanding, I wrapped my arm around his waist and we traversed the halls in silence. Once outside the court, Micah continued to lead me in a straight line, ignoring the metal pathways as he walked farther and farther from the Gold Court and into the surrounding wood. When we could no longer see its sunny glow behind us, he fell to his knees.

“You really didn’t know?” I asked, taking him into my arms. My words opened the floodgates—his shoulders shook as I held him. As my father had oh-so-graciously pointed out, Micah had only been a part of my life for a few short months, but we’d been through an awful lot in that time. No matter the situation though, not once had I ever seen him break down in tears. I mean, I cry at the drop of a hat, but not Micah. He had always been so strong, almost invincible.