"Yes, Your Majesty." He gently wrapped his arms around her, and this time, when she kissed him, he kissed her back. She tasted his tears on her lips.
Chapter 4
As the other champions filed out of the chamber, Ven laid his hand on the queen's throne. Like the chairs, the wood was alive. Living leaves curled over the top, and branches were woven into patterns on the back. He had been so very proud of her in the moment she'd broken the news that broke their hearts. She had held herself like a true queen. He had no doubt she'd summoned them within minutes of learning the news herself. Before she'd allowed herself to grieve, she'd considered her people first and what her death would mean to them.
Her death . . . such an ugly phrase. On any day, at any hour of her training, Daleina could have fallen, killed by the spirits she sought to control, but he'd never let himself believe it would happen. After Sata's death, she was his bright hope for the future. And now . . . "How is she?" he asked out loud.
"Not well," a woman's voice said-Captain Alet, the queen's guard. She'd entered quietly, but Ven had heard her. "Seven men and women died during the ritual. She lost control of the spirits."
Hearing that made him feel as if he'd aged a decade in one day. With Queen Fara, he'd been afraid she was losing control and then discovered the truth was worse. Daleina had sworn no deaths of innocents during her reign-their deaths must have torn her up inside. "She didn't speak of that."
Alet didn't reply.
"Is she in pain?"
"One of the spirits was chewing on her leg when she woke. And then she climbed those ludicrous stairs without any consideration for her wounds. So I would say yes, she is in pain, but she will deny it until she can't. You taught her well."
He wondered if he should go to her. She'd given an order, but there were plenty of other champions who could find an heir, and she might need him with her.
On the other hand, what could he do? She doesn't need pity; she needs action. And an impossible cure. Ven lifted his hand from the throne. "When you see the queen-"
"You'll need to find someone else to send your message," Alet interrupted. "I'm coming with you. You're the best champion that Aratay has; you're the most likely to find the next heir."
"I work alone."
"To be ready, your candidate will need to be trained faster than any ever before her, and having a second trainer will help." She added, "You know I can best you in a fight."
"You have a responsibility to Queen Daleina," Ven objected. "And you could not best me." It was more an automatic response, since he wasn't one hundred percent certain that was true-he'd seen Alet in the practice circle. She was fast and skilled and also at least two decades younger than he was. He should be able to hold his own, but he wouldn't bet on it.
Not that it changed his mind.
"Any of the guard can watch her door," Alet said as if reading his doubt. "You know as well as I do that Aratay needs a decent heir as quickly as possible. Queens don't lead safe lives, with or without any sickness."
Studying her, he considered it. Last time, with Daleina, he'd taken a healer with him to train her-Healer Hamon-but he'd never considered taking another warrior. He'd meant what he said: he worked alone. But Alet was one of the finest fighters he'd ever seen, and that could be invaluable. He'd met her while he was hunting the spirits who'd killed his former candidate, the heir Sata. She'd been the one who'd revealed Queen Fara's treachery. Later, Ven had found Alet in ceremonial armor, standing guard in an inconsequential portrait room, and she'd informed him that her skills were being wasted. He'd spoken with her commander, who had said she was there as punishment-she'd bested several of the old-timers in a practice bout and hadn't had the courtesy to salute them. Ven had told the commander precisely what he thought of that-adding a few colorful bruises in as punctuation-and the next day, Alet had been assigned to active duty. When Queen Daleina took up residence in the palace, she selected Alet to guard her and had her promoted to the rank of captain.
And yet now she wanted to leave that very post.
"Why do you want to do this?"
"Queen Daleina wants an heir."
"And?" Ven waited.
"And I don't want to watch her die." Alet didn't meet his eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the empty throne. "Call it cowardly if you want, but it's the truth."
But he would never say that. How could he call it cowardly when he felt the same way? He made the decision in an instant. "Very well. Our first step is to select a candidate."