The Reluctant Queen (The Queens of Renthia #2)(10)

Laying his bow and quiver against the side of his chair, Ven sat. He stretched his legs in front of him and crossed his feet at his ankles. He didn't so much as glance at the other champions; he looked only at her. She wondered what he read in her face: sorrow in her eyes, or regret, or anger, or if she merely looked tired? I wish I could shield him from this. He regarded her steadily, his pale blue eyes unwavering. When she'd told Alet to summon the champions, when she'd climbed up here to share the news, she knew this was going to be tough.

But she hadn't thought about how difficult it would be to tell this to him.

"Your Majesty, what does the Crown require of us?" Piriandra asked. Her voice was clipped, as if she didn't want to waste the time it took to say the words. Champion Piriandra, she knew, was one who had never forgiven her for becoming queen. She'd rejected Daleina on her search for a candidate, labeling her not good enough, and had believed Linna would be a better queen. It would be easier to take if Daleina hadn't agreed with her-Linna should have been queen, or Iondra or Zie or any of them. Anyone but Daleina.

Belatedly, Daleina realized the champions had been waiting patiently for her to speak while she'd been lost in thought. She felt herself start to blush and struggled to keep her expression under control. She was queen, for as long as she lived. She must look and act it, even when she felt like a schoolgirl playing dress-up in stolen clothes. "Word of what I am about to say must not leave this chamber. I will have your pledge on this. Unless the need outweighs the cost, you must be silent. I trust you to weigh that need appropriately."

She heard shifting as the champions straightened in their chairs. She had their attention, certainly. Queen Daleina fixed her gaze on each of them, deliberately silent now, to let the weight of her seriousness fall onto each of them.

"Have you taken precautions?" Ven asked.

Her gaze shifted to him. It was a teacher's question, and she had been an excellent student. "Of course," she said. There were no spirits anywhere near the chamber. She was certain of it. They were in the trees below, out of hearing-she'd always been good at sensing spirits, even before she had the power of a queen. She could sense them without commanding them, without risking triggering another false death. She also knew Alet was positioned at the base of the stairs, to prevent any human listeners from creeping too close.

He nodded approval.

It was amazing how much that gave her strength. She still would do anything for that approval. He had been harder on her than any teacher she'd ever had in her training school, testing her daily, forcing her to fend off spirits while she ate, slept, and traveled. He'd trained her body and mind. I'm sorry, Ven. She owed him better than this. She was supposed to have a long reign, to keep their people safe for decades. She felt as if she was betraying him.



       
         
       
        

His lips shifted into a frown, and she knew he'd seen something in her face that he didn't like, something she'd not meant to show. Her hands trembled. She'd faced hordes of spirits, controlled the wills of hundreds, but controlling herself in this room was harder.

As she fought to stay strong and calm, Ven stood and crossed to her. He knelt in front of her throne and took her hands in his. His scarred, strong hands engulfed hers, hiding her trembling. Whereas Hamon and Alet's touch was full of pity, his gave her strength. "You have orders for us, milady," he said. "We will obey. We are yours to command."

Following his lead, all of the other champions-some quickly and some slowly-rose from their chairs and then knelt. Thanks to Ven's melodrama, he had effectively communicated that this was no ordinary meeting and reminded them she was queen, not a candidate or an heir, while at the same time distracting them from her discomfort. She owed him thanks, yet again.

Raising her voice so all the champions could hear, Queen Daleina said, "Your orders are this and only this: find me an heir."

She saw them exchange glances.

"Your Majesty." Sevrin spoke, his voice smooth and urbane as always. "Many of us have chosen candidates already. Indeed, we began our searches the day after the massacre. But cultivating a suitable candidate takes time, and given the severity of-"

Daleina shook her head. "Ready an heir. Not in your own time. In mine. You have three months."

Ven's hands tightened on hers as the other champions broke into talking, overlapping one another so they sounded like birds startled from their roosts. She waited, letting the words tumble out of them, until she heard them repeating themselves. She stared into Ven's water-pale eyes and let them soothe her, like looking across the tops of the trees, Aratay's green sea.