Sandy Williams - The Sharpest Blade

Hison laughs. “You won’t harm us. The high nobles would never give you power if you did.”

I’m not as confident about that as he is, the Lena-not-harming- him part. The Lena I know, or the one I knew back before she became interim queen, wasn’t just some figurehead leader. She knew how to fight, how to kill and maim. The role she’s found herself in doesn’t fit comfortably. All she might need is an excuse to be who she was before.

“I want the name of the kingkiller or the names of the witnesses by sunset,” Hison says. “If I have to hunt the witnesses down myself, I’ll have your lord general and your sword-master arrested and you confined to your apartments. And in the end, I’ll still learn the kingkiller’s identity.”

With that, Hison departs, Kaeth following a step behind.

“Can he do that?” I ask when the doors close behind them. My voice is overly monotone because I’m still trying to quash my emotions. Kyol knows I’m not in danger now, but he wants to know what was wrong. He’s still heading this way, and I’m afraid he’ll cross paths with Hison and Kaeth.

“What?” Lena snaps.

“Can Hison arrest Aren and Kyol and keep you locked in here?”

She draws in a deep breath, calming herself, then moves to the window and peers out.

“Probably,” she says. “Maybe. I don’t really know. I don’t have enough support to oppose him.”

“Support from the high nobles?”

“From them,” she says, nodding out the window. “From the people. From everyone.”

“What happens if you never get their support?”

“What happens if I fail?” Her eyes look glassy when she meets my gaze. “Then my brother’s death meant nothing, and the fae who have fought and died for him and who now fight and die for me . . . it all means nothing.” She turns back to the window. “Atroth catered to the high nobles. They’re used to his favors. They hate me because I won’t make one group of people suffer just so they can prosper. They know I’ll lower and equalize the gate taxes as soon as I have the authority to do so. And they know that, once I have access to the treasury, I won’t use the tinril as bribes. I’ll use it to help the tor’um , the imithi . All the fae whom they’ve shoved aside and ignored.”

She looks at me over her shoulder. “Did you know there are fae living in the Barren?”

“I know fae shun the Barren,” I say. I crossed that strip of land not too long ago. Thrain collapsed the gate in Krytta ten years ago, killing thousands of fae and making it impossible to fissure in a third of Sarna Province.

“We think they’re tor’um ,” Lena says. “We don’t know for sure, but they’ve been raiding stack houses that are near the Barren, stealing whatever is stored there before the merchants have a chance to load it onto their carts and take it to the nearest gate. Atroth had plans to send his swordsmen to Krytta to annihilate anyone they found there.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. I gave ten years of my life to that king. He never struck me as someone who was capable of mass murder, not even in the end, and every time I hear about something he did or planned to do, I feel like a fool for not seeing what he’d become.

“It was Lord General Radath’s plan,” Lena says, as if she sees the regret written on my face. “Taltrayn spoke out against it. Perhaps Atroth would have listened to him.”

And perhaps not. But she doesn’t have to convince me that she’s better for the Realm than Atroth was. She just has to convince everyone else.

“So you’re no closer to being confirmed as queen,” I say. “What are the high nobles’ alternatives? The false-blood?”

She shakes her head. “The false-blood would have to take over by force. The high nobles may not like me, but they won’t confirm a fae who won’t tell them his ancestry. No, they’ll rule by council until they find a weak-blooded Descendant who’ll agree to sit on the throne. It will be someone they can manipulate. Someone Hison can manipulate,” she amends bitterly. “He might have a candidate already. He’ll tell the others I can’t unify the Realm, but his puppet can.”

She looks so heavy-hearted. I want to rest my hand on her shoulder, assure her that everything will work out in the end, but I can’t promise her that. There’s too much uncertainty in the Realm right now. Besides, Lena isn’t the type of person to accept that kind of comfort.

“Thanks for stepping in when Kaeth grabbed me,” I tell her instead. “We’ve come a long way since you tried to kill me.”

She still has a death grip on her sword. When I eye it pointedly, she drops her hand to her side as if she’s been caught stealing. Heaven forbid she admit she was prepared to defend me.

“I never tried to kill you.” A small smile bends a corner of her mouth. “I tried to have others do it for me.”

That pulls a laugh from my chest, and it feels good, releasing a little tension.

Sobering up, I ask, “They’re going to find out about Kyol, aren’t they?”

Lena’s mouth flattens out again. “Two of Atroth’s guards survived our invasion. They laid down their weapons, and Taltrayn vouched for them. He wouldn’t let me kill them.” Her gaze slides to me. “Don’t get that disapproving look, McKenzie. They were my enemies. I had the right to give them a good, clean death.”

“I didn’t say anything,” I protest.

“It’s the way things are done here,” she continues, her voice firm. “But I took the advice of my lord general. I accepted their oaths of allegiance, then I sent them away. It was a temporary solution to buy me time. I’ve been trying to find ways to persuade the high nobles to approve me without giving them the garistyn , but I’ve run out of time. If word gets out that my lord general and sword-master have been arrested, and that I’m confined here, I’ll lose the little amount of support that I have.”

“You need to find a way to get more support now,” I say.

She rolls her eyes, probably because I’ve stated the obvious. I’m about to cut off whatever smart remark she’s going to say by pointing out how human her eye rolling is, but her mouth snaps shut. She stares at me silently. I frown as the seconds tick by, then raise an eyebrow.

“Are you okay?”

“Come with me,” she says. Then, without explanation, she walks out of the room.

ANDUR RISES FROM the desk as Lena strides through the antechamber.

“Stay here,” she barks at him.

He sends me a questioning look as I hurry after her, but I just shrug in response. I have no freaking idea what she’s doing.

“Where are you going?” I ask, when we step into the corridor outside Lena’s apartments. The guards standing to either side of the double-doored entrance straighten when they see her.

“Do you need assistance?” the taller fae on the left asks.

She doesn’t answer either of us. She just turns to the right and keeps walking. I alternate between a jog and a fast walk.

“Lena—”

“You said I should get more support,” she cuts me off. “That’s what I’m doing.” She doesn’t even glance over her shoulder when she speaks. She moves down the wide corridor in long, confident strides.

Confusion travels along my life-bond with Kyol. I don’t know if I’m projecting the emotion or if he is, but I can’t do anything to clear it up. Lena isn’t slowing down, and I don’t know where she’s going.

No, I do know where she’s going. A short staircase takes us to the entrance to the palace archives. Lena and her guard enter without hesitating, but I linger in the doorway. I knew the palace archivist. He was one of the few fae I considered a friend when I worked for the king. Trusting Kavok ended up being a mistake, though. When the rebels captured Tylan, a high-ranking remnant, Kavok betrayed us, freeing the fae and escaping with Paige and Lee.