“We should attempt some kind of diplomacy,” Eduardo says. “Our greatest weakness has ever been that we know so little about them. And I’m sure our queen could charm them—”
“Their ambassadors were never forthcoming.” I jump in, mostly because I’m already sick of being talked over as if I’m not here. “Short of sending a delegation to Invierne, I don’t know how we’ll find out what we need to know. But they always refused offers of a return delegation from my father.”
“It was the same here,” Hector says. “King Alejandro offered delegations several times, only to be rebuffed.”
I know what my sister, Crown Princess Alodia, would counsel. “We need spies,” I say.
General Luz-Manuel shakes his head. “We can’t outfit spies over such a long distance. There’s nothing left in the coffers. And we’d have no way of communicating with them. It’s too far, even for pigeons.”
The helpless expression on everyone’s face makes the chamber feel even tighter, even hotter. I wish I’d brought a fan with me.
“We have a more immediate problem,” Conde Eduardo says. “Five months after the Battle of Brisadulce, our nation was finally beginning to heal. This is a terrible blow. Several people were killed today in the ensuing chaos.”
My heart drops into my stomach. I remember the panic, the crowd, the runaway carriage. I hadn’t realized people were dying around me. Maybe that was the Inviernos’ plan all along, to frighten us into hurting ourselves.
Conde Eduardo adds, “Some misguided souls may even call for the queen’s head.”
“Surely not!” Lady Jada protests.
The conde shrugs. “If they believe giving Her Majesty over to Invierne will save their brothers and sons and wives, they will demand it be done. You saw how they nearly stormed the palace this morning.”
The same people who cheered me along the parade, who chanted my name and hailed me as a hero. Ximena was right.
Lady Jada turns to me. “Can’t you just”—she makes an obscure gesture with one hand—“do something with your Godstone? Defeat them like last time?”
I wilt a little on my cushion. “If only I could, my lady. I had an amulet then, and several old stones from long-dead bearers. Now I’ve only my own. Father Nicandro and I are working together to figure out how to channel its power.” I choose not to mention that, aside from bringing a warm glow to the stone, I’ve accomplished nothing.
General Luz-Manuel leans forward, eyes gleaming. “I have an idea.” He is a consummate politician, and he allows an exactly perfect stretch of silence before adding, “Your Majesty, we must discuss the issue of your regency.”
I wipe my suddenly sweating palms on my knees. “I am not the prince’s regent,” I tell him, pretending to misunderstand. “It is wholly my choice whether or not to hand the throne over to Rosario when he comes of age. The king named me his unequivocal heir and Queen Regnant.” I’m proud of my steady voice.
“The king was on his deathbed and suffering tremendously, perhaps not in his right mind. You are so young, Your Majesty; not yet come of age yourself. And foreign. Many doubt your worthiness to rule. Add to that today’s terrifying incident, and you must consider that you need a regent. It would go a long way toward assuring the populace.”
I do my best not to gape at him. “I fought for this nation as one born to it!”
He nods solemnly. “What you did was an important part of the whole effort.” I curl my hands into fists against the condescension in his voice. “But you have difficult decisions coming up, like raising taxes to support rebuilding efforts. You will find that when people are tightening their belts, your heroics won’t matter. They will blame you, Your Majesty, and you alone. They’ll demand we hand you over to our enemy.”
I knew my Quorum held little respect for me. But I didn’t anticipate this. And his words cut hard because he is right. I am a child, and an inexperienced one. Leading a small desert rebellion, defeating Invierne’s animagi with my Godstone—these things were impressive, certainly. But they were nothing like ruling.
Lady Jada’s gaze shifts between the general and me, her eyes large and eager. She is a keen gossip, and I wonder if Luz-Manuel invited her specifically in the hope that she would spread the idea of my regency. Or the reason for my proposed regency—that I can’t rule on my own.
Conde Eduardo stares into the distance, rubbing at his close-cropped beard. Finally he says, “There is another way.” He leans his elbows onto the table and stares at each Quorum member in turn, settling finally on me. “My dear queen, it is time for you to choose a husband.”