The Crown of Embers(122)
In spite of everything, I smile up at him. Indeed, the threads of a strategy are patterning together in my mind, and I’m heady with the power of it. The kind of power I really need.
“I want messages sent to Crown Princess Alodia and Queen Cosmé,” I say to no one in particular. “Multiple copies, to be safe. See if they’ll agree to meet me in exactly three months’ time in Basajuan, for the world’s first parliament of queens.”
I resume pacing, right where I left off when Franco’s men barged in. “I’ll send a message to Ventierra, to Hector’s father, commanding that he reinstate Hector as his sole heir. And I need a proclamation—Mara, did my wax and seal survive our journey?” When she nods, I say, “A proclamation announcing my betrothal to Lord-Commander Hector, heir to the countship of Ventierra.” That should stall Conde Eduardo’s efforts to discredit me with the southern lords. All I need is a little time.
Mara hurries over and takes my hands. “Er, congratulations on your pending nuptials?”
I whisper, “He’ll be so angry when he learns I have engaged us without his knowledge.”
“Yes,” she says. “Definitely. But you’ll convince him.”
Belén says, “When do we all leave?”
“We all?”
“We’re going to Invierne with you, of course,” Mara says.
Of course, she says. As if journeying deep into enemy territory is no more than a quick jaunt through the market. I blink against tears. “I need a few days to make arrangements and set things in motion. Then we go.”
Clanking chains echo through the dining hall as Storm rises to his feet. “I’m going, too,” he says. He has been near invisible the whole time, huddled beneath his cowl. “You need a guide. And it’s time I stopped hiding like a frightened rabbit.”
I nod, knowing he offers in friendship this time, that he truly is my loyal subject. “The four of us, then.”
“You should have five!” Tristán protests. “For blessing and protection. It’s the holy number.”
I draw myself to full height, and my voice rings clear when I say, “The fifth place is for Hector.”