Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Champion of the Crown
Champion of the Crown
Champion of the Crown
Ebook464 pages7 hours

Champion of the Crown

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

4.5/5

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Willow North has safely brought the boy-King Felix out of Tremontane and secured the support of neighboring Eskandel in his bid to recover the Crown. Now she faces her greatest challenge yet: convincing the Counts and Barons of Tremontane to support Felix as he confronts his uncle, the pretender to the Crown. With Tremontane on the verge of civil war, success hinges on discovering true allies amid those who would take the Crown for themselves.

But Willow’s true plan—to choose a new ruler for Tremontane and give Felix a chance at a happy life—hits a snag when it seems none of the potential candidates for the Crown are suitable. With her army racing to meet the pretender’s, time is running out. Willow will have to choose a King...and that choice will be one even she doesn’t expect.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 30, 2018
ISBN9780999006986
Champion of the Crown
Author

Melissa McShane

Melissa McShane is the author of the novels of Tremontane, beginning with SERVANT OF THE CROWN, the Extraordinaries series beginning with BURNING BRIGHT, the Last Oracle series beginning with THE BOOK OF SECRETS, and COMPANY OF STRANGERS, first in the series of the same title. She lives in Utah with her husband, four children, one niece, and three very needy cats. She wrote reviews and critical essays for many years before turning to fiction, which is much more fun than anyone ought to be allowed to have.

Read more from Melissa Mc Shane

Related to Champion of the Crown

Related ebooks

Fantasy For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Champion of the Crown

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
4.5/5

4 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Champion of the Crown - Melissa McShane

    Willow North—former thief, now guardian to Felix Valant

    Serjian Kerish—Deviser and Willow’s husband

    Felix Valant—eight-year-old King of Tremontane

    Ernest—Felix’s dog

    Terence Valant—Felix’s uncle and usurper of the Crown of Tremontane

    Giles Rafferty—rebel leader allied with Felix

    Khurkjian Gianesh—Felix’s friend and tutor

    Takjashi Soltighan—leader of Felix’s Eskandelic military escort

    Hilarion—Felix’s former tutor, a wealth of proverbial sayings (deceased)

    COUNTY HUDDERSFIELD:

    Philippa Heath—Countess of Huddersfield

    Dexter Heath—Lady Heath’s consort

    Charity Heath—Lady Heath’s daughter and heir

    Howard Ragland—chief political adviser

    Lyle Carrington—dowser without an Ascendant

    Cerise Nolanger—captain of the Huddersfield militia

    COUNTY WAXWOLD:

    Alric Quinn—Count of Waxwold

    Richard Quinn—his son and heir

    BARONY SILVERFIELD:

    Donald Frazier—Baron of Silverfield

    Letitia Frazier—co-ruler with her husband

    Genevieve Frazier—their daughter

    COUNTY CULLINAN:

    Anastasia Harcourt—Countess of Cullinan

    THE REBELS:

    Bess and Rosie—Felix’s new heralds

    Selina Rafferty—Giles’s wife

    THE ASCENDANTS:

    Lady Claudia Lovell—a healer and friend of Felix

    Lord Severian Acasta—ally of Terence Valant

    Lady Kendra Godfrey—swears fealty to Felix

    Gillian Kent—the one all the other Ascendants are afraid of

    THE CRIMINALS:

    Rufus Black—duke of crime in Aurilien, Willow’s friend

    Albie—thief in training

    Map

    Part Six

    Chapter One

    The plains of southern Tremontane, burned gold by the summer sun, lay still and quiet in the hot afternoon. In a matter of weeks, the weather would turn cooler, and after that the autumn rains would fall, turning gradually into the snows of winter. But for now, it was as hot as the fires of a baker’s oven, and the parched blue sky was a fine china bowl touching the horizon on all sides.

    Willow pushed back her hat to wipe sweat from her brow. Hot it might be, but it was cooler than the desert wastes of northern Eskandel they’d spent the last two weeks traveling through. Worse was the dust kicked up by the riders ahead of her wagon and the long line of marchers behind, fine and red and getting into absolutely everything. She missed the paving stones of Aurilien, which soaked up the sun and radiated it back at you like a blow to the face, but at least didn’t make you feel grimy and in need of a bath.

    We’re about a day’s ride from Rannis, Kerish said. He rode beside her on the wagon’s seat, his hand gently resting on her knee. You should send a message rider to the Countess tonight.

    I’ve been going over messages in my head all day, Willow said, though the truth was she’d given up on it about an hour ago. She wouldn’t know what to say until she had pen in hand. It was funny how quickly she’d gotten used to speaking on Felix’s behalf in the two months since the Eskandelic Conclave had voted to support him in his bid for the Crown, when writing those words was still a challenge.

    Will you tell her I’m the King? Felix asked. He hauled himself up from the bed of the wagon to stick his head between them. And that she has to recognize me?

    Among other things, yes. Willow’s ostensible mission was to restore the Crown of Tremontane to its rightful ruler. What she really intended to do was evaluate the nobles of the kingdom and choose one to take Felix’s place, then sneak away with him and Kerish and become the family she’d never realized she wanted. But Felix wasn’t privy to this plan. He was only eight years old and not good at keeping secrets.

    Kerish squeezed her knee. Willow will make sure you’re safe.

    So will you.

    I promise to fight anyone who tries to hurt you.

    Good. Felix slid back down into the wagon and hugged his dog Ernest, who’d come bounding up begging to play. May Ernest and I walk beside the wagon for a while, Willow?

    It’s too dirty, Felix. We’ll stop for dinner in a bit and you can run around then, all right?

    All right. He really was the most obedient, well-mannered child she’d ever known, nothing like the scrawny urchins who ran screaming through the streets of Aurilien’s Lower Town. His tutor, Hilarion, had done a good job raising the boy, better than his wastrel father Edmund Valant would have done. Willow felt slightly guilty about not telling Felix his old tutor was dead, killed in the fighting when Terence Valant had murdered his brother the King. She’d sworn never to lie to him, and this omission came awfully close, but at this point it was awkward bringing it up. She’d figure something out when they were back in Aurilien.

    Kerish scooted closer and put his arm around her. I have to say I’m looking forward to Rannis. No more tent, no more worrying about privacy. Just the two of us, in a room with a lock on the door.

    Willow blushed. Even after two months, she was still sometimes caught off-guard by the realization that she was married, that she and Kerish were one. They’d be driving along, and he’d give her the tender look he was giving her now, and it would feel like being struck by lightning. And sex…Willow shivered.

    Something wrong?

    Just thinking about that room with a lock on the door.

    Mmm. Yes, having Felix in our tent has hampered our activities. He ran his hand up her back to the nape of her neck, twirling her short locks around his finger.

    Kerish, you’ll make me drive the wagon off the road if you don’t stop.

    It would be worth it.

    "Lady North!"

    Willow cursed and brought the wagon to a halt. Kerish waved at the long column of marching men behind them, signaling a stop. A rider from the front of the line was trotting back toward them. What is it, Soltighan?

    Takjashi Soltighan, captain of Felix’s Eskandelic troops, gave her an abbreviated salute. There are carriages coming our way, Willow. A couple of big ones, accompanied by riders.

    Sign and shield on the doors?

    Yes, but I do not recognize your Tremontanan liveries. I apologize.

    That’s all right. I don’t know most of them either. How far away?

    They will reach us in ten minutes, I estimate.

    Pass the word back that I want Giles and about twenty of his people up here immediately.

    Soltighan nodded and spoke to one of the other riders, who set off toward the rear of the column. You think they’re Ascendants? Kerish said.

    I think there’s a good chance of it. Protect Felix, will you? I wish I had a horse.

    You do not. You can’t ride.

    Then I wish I knew how to ride so I could have a horse. Whoever those people are will respond better to a mounted rider. Well, it can’t be helped.

    Willow set off for the front of the line, passing Soltighan’s officers, who looked very official in their white headwraps and gray robes over hardened leather jerkins that must be miserable in this heat. Each was armed with a curved sword and a small but deadly-looking crossbow. Willow didn’t feel she looked official at all, wearing trousers and a sleeveless shirt of Tremontanan make. It was stupid to dress up when the roads were so dirty, but now she felt the lack of formal garb.

    The carriages were still tiny with distance, and for a moment she wondered how Soltighan had seen the sign and shield at all, until she remembered the fine Eskandelic spyglass he carried. Kerish had made muttering noises about turning it into a Device, but Soltighan had flatly refused to let his heirloom be tinkered with, even by someone as skilled as Kerish. Willow watched them approach. You know what? she said to the officer nearest her. Let’s ride out. I don’t want them to think we’re afraid of them.

    Will you then walk, Lady North? said the officer in barely intelligible Tremontanese.

    I’ll hang on behind you, Willow said, trying to sound nonchalant. The truth was, horses made her nervous, but she trusted the Eskandelic soldiers to keep theirs under control even when they had an extra passenger.

    She let him pull her up and settled herself behind him. At his cry, the horses stepped out. Willow watched over the officer’s shoulder. The carriages were moving faster than they were, and Willow, remembering other encounters with Ascendants and nobles, hoped they wouldn’t keep moving and expect their procession to step aside. Even if she’d been inclined to do so, they had a couple hundred men and women in their line of march who didn’t have anywhere to go if someone wanted to pass.

    Up this high, she wasn’t eating dust the way she had been on the wagon—the way the soldiers and rebels on foot probably were. A cooling breeze ruffled her hair under her hat. She pulled its shading brim down over her eyes and watched the carriages. They were enclosed, each drawn by four horses, and another ten horses flanked them before and behind. The riders wore livery matching the sign and shield on the carriage doors—green and gray, with some kind of bird Willow couldn’t identify at this distance. Nobody she remembered stealing from.

    When the carriages were a few hundred feet ahead of them, Willow called a halt and slid down ungracefully from the horse’s rump. Wobbling the first few steps, she went out in front of the horses and stood, waiting, her right hand resting gently on the slim wand holstered at her hip. She’d trained herself to use it with her off hand, in case she needed her knife in a hurry. Be prepared to attack, she said over her shoulder. Where was Soltighan? For that matter, where was Rafferty? If there was more than one Ascendant, she’d need help taking them down.

    The carriages came on without slowing. Willow stood her ground and successfully kept from fidgeting. How far were those nobles willing to push their supposed privilege?

    "Make way! shouted one of the riders. Make way for the Lady Evaine Ballard! Make way for his Lordship Gareth Wilde!"

    Stand down for his Majesty Felix Valant, King of Tremontane! Willow roared.

    For another long moment, the riders pounded toward them. Then, in a confusing tangle of horse limbs, the four riders ahead of the carriages pulled up short, forcing the carriage driver to pull to the side to avoid running into them. The lead carriage tilted alarmingly, then hit the road with a lurch. What is going on? a woman shouted from inside the carriage.

    The lead rider wheeled around to approach the carriage door. A slim hand extended from it, gesturing at the rider. Willow crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Shortly, a boy dressed in green and gray hopped down from the back of the carriage and opened the door, then bent to extend folding steps to the ground. A woman dressed in pale blue muslin stepped out, followed by another woman wearing a similar full-skirted gown, but in emerald green. The woman in blue took a few steps toward Willow, then stopped. Felix Valant is dead, she said in a clear, carrying voice.

    That’s what Terence wants you to believe, Willow said. Felix is alive and has returned to claim the Crown.

    The woman fixed her attention on Willow. Who are you?

    Lady Willow North. The lie was growing easier each time she said or wrote it. And it wasn’t a lie, because Felix had made her a Lady before leaving Umberan. It only felt like one. King Felix’s chief political adviser.

    An amused smile touched the woman’s lips. I’ve never heard of you.

    This is some trick, said a man emerging from the carriage behind her. He was dressed in courtier’s clothing, all except the embroidered formal coat, and was followed by another woman, this one elderly and dressed in lemon yellow satin that had to be too hot for this weather.

    Indeed, said the woman. An impostor, a column of Eskandelic warriors—this looks like an invasion to me. Eskandel wishes to take advantage of Tremontane’s turmoil to attack us. Green light glowed beneath the thin sleeves of her gown. They need a reminder of why that is a terrible idea.

    If you attack his Majesty’s forces, you’re in open rebellion against him, Kerish said. Or have you forgotten what Felix looks like so soon?

    Willow closed her eyes and silently cursed. If Kerish had brought Felix where he could be seen, he could be attacked as well—but then these nobles, these Ascendants, needed a chance to swear fealty to him. Even if Willow hated exposing the boy to them.

    The man had raised his arm as if he had a wand of his own, but lowered it. Prince Felix? He sounded utterly amazed.

    Hello, Lord Wilde, Felix said. Hello, Lady Ballard.

    Lord Wilde and Lady Ballard exchanged looks. So the rumor is true, and Felix survived, Lord Wilde said to his companion. Terence will need to know about this.

    I’m offering you a chance to pledge your loyalty to the true King. Willow’s hand edged closer to her wand. It was about fifteen inches long and had an invisible gold core that to her magical senses burned like a banked fire. With her left hand, she dipped into her pocket for a fizzing silver disc about the size of a ten-guilder coin with a hole punched through its center. She was accustomed to carrying a handful of these after two weeks’ journey, and was now able to ignore the fizzing sensation, or at least push it to where it didn’t disturb her.

    More looks. The true King already wears the Crown, said Lady Ballard. And you will never reach Aurilien to contest it.

    The green light flared brighter. Lord Wilde raised his hands again. Willow jammed a silver disc over the tip of her wand, pointed it at Lady Ballard, and twisted the ivory cuff circling its fatter end. "Fire!" she shouted.

    The green light went from blindingly bright to dark in seconds. Willow’s silver disc blazed green. She flicked the wand, sending the disc flying, and then some unseen hand picked her up and hurled her backward into the horses. The animals shied away, stamping their feet and nearly trampling her. Willow rolled to safety and got to her knees. The vanguard riders were trying to bring their animals under control, but a few of them leveled crossbows at the Ascendants. Bolts flew and shattered against a pale green wall, curved like a bubble, surrounding the Ascendants and their companions.

    Willow jammed a disc over the tip of her wand and aimed it again. The wall wavered and then vanished. Shoot now! she screamed, not knowing who could hear her over the sounds of horses neighing and stamping their feet and the rush of soldiers running past her. At least the Eskandelics had no fear of Ascendants.

    Felix, where was Felix? She couldn’t see him or Kerish. If the Ascendants had targeted them… She got to her feet and staggered out of the way of the soldiers. The wands didn’t work through physical barriers, including flesh. She had to get in front of them.

    The green wall went up again, then vanished, then reappeared. Rafferty or one of his people had made it to the front. Willow circled the melee until she could see Lady Ballard and the woman in green. The second woman stood behind her Ascendant, her hand resting on Lady Ballard’s shoulder and her head bowed, presumably dowsing for her. Half a dozen soldiers went flying with a gesture of Lady Ballard’s hand, then two horses with their riders. Screams of pain, human and equine, filled the air. The wands were working. They just weren’t working fast enough.

    Willow aimed her wand at the woman’s back and saw her convulse—with shock, not pain, since the wands didn’t cause physical harm. But having source sucked out of you was disorienting, as Willow could attest.

    She flicked away the imbued disc—she’d have to hunt it down later—and slapped another on the tip of her wand. The dowser, shoot the dowser! she said, not that anyone could hear her. Cursing, she used the wand, rid herself of the imbued disc, and let her knife fall into her hand. So long as that dowser could funnel source to the Ascendant, the wand wielders would be at a stalemate.

    Nobody else had been tossed through the air for several seconds, and the green wall was down. But the crossbows couldn’t be fired into the mess without possibly hitting one of their own. Lady Ballard had her hand out in front of her in a warding gesture, and it looked like the soldiers couldn’t approach any closer. The green traceries of light on her arms were going dark, then light again as unseen wand wielders targeted her and her dowser replenished her source. Willow couldn’t see Lord Wilde and prayed that meant someone had taken care of him.

    Lady Ballard’s face was tense with concentration, but showed no signs of fear. She still thought she was going to win this fight. Willow flipped her knife into a different position and hurled it at the dowser. It wasn’t balanced for throwing, but all she cared about was distracting the woman.

    It glanced hilt-first off the dowser’s temple, making her cry out and stumble back a few paces. Instantly the green lines on Lady Ballard’s arms went dark and faded away. She thrust her hand out again, then screamed as a soldier’s curved sword went into her stomach. Two more soldiers went for the dowser, who tried and failed to scramble away before their swords intersected on her.

    Willow ran to retrieve her knife and looked around. No more green light. She could see Lord Wilde lying in a crumpled, bloody heap, and the dowser in her yellow satin dress crouched nearby, shaking. Why hadn’t they killed her?

    Eskandelic soldiers were restraining the enemy’s horses, and their riders lay on the ground, some of them dead and a few being guarded. Willow counted quickly; only eight horses. So two had escaped? Who were they running to—Terence? Well, he’d have to know of Felix’s return eventually, so this wasn’t a disaster.

    She ran to the second carriage and flung open the door, standing well to one side in case someone inside was armed and inclined to attack their lords’ killers.

    Don’t hurt us! At least half a dozen men and women, maybe more, were crammed into the carriage meant to hold only four. Most of them cringed away from Willow. She realized she was still holding her knife and sheathed it.

    Come on out, she said, and stepped away from the door. Who are you?

    Kevin, my lady. His lordship’s valet. Kevin was middle-aged, with dark hair and a short beard, and he looked terrified. We’re the Lord and Lady’s body servants.

    Did you hear any of that?

    Kevin swallowed and glanced toward where Lord Wilde lay. Is it true? The Prince is alive?

    He’s the King. If you swear loyalty to him, we’ll let you live. The idea of killing anyone in cold blood made Willow sick, but what else could she do? They couldn’t let anyone interested in harming Felix go free.

    We swear! A babble of voices emerged from the carriage, all of them pledging loyalty in some form or another.

    Lady North, Soltighan said from somewhere near her left elbow. There are three guards who survived.

    How many did we lose?

    Two. A soldier and one of your insurgents. Fifteen more took injury, mostly slight, due to being thrown about like straw in the wind. We mourn our dead, but it is not so bad a loss for a first encounter with the enemy. We will know better how to face them in future. I have already some strategies in mind.

    Thanks, Soltighan. I’d better speak to those guards now.

    The three men had been made to sit with their hands on their heads. Each looked at Willow with a neutral expression. I’ll make this short, Willow said. You can swear fealty to your King, or you can die here and now. What will it be?

    One man, whose short blond beard had blood in it, said, Is he really the King?

    You heard Lord Wilde and Lady Ballard. They recognized him as Felix Valant.

    Then I’ll swear to him.

    What about you two?

    The other men were silent. Soltighan, make their deaths painless, if you can, Willow said, keeping her voice from trembling. She’d actually thought all three would see sense. How anyone could be loyal to an Ascendant unto death…even Kerish had rebelled when it came to the choice between Terence and Felix. She turned away so she wouldn’t have to see the executions. Behind her, from the direction of the second carriage, someone threw up.

    Willow, Kerish said. Willow turned to embrace him. Felix is safe. I’m sorry I put him in danger.

    No, you did the right thing. We just need a better plan for the next time this happens. The wands worked!

    They did. It’s always satisfying to see a Device you’ve invented work properly in the field, so to speak. Kerish steered Willow back toward the wagon. Emmeline refuses to speak to anyone.

    Who’s Emmeline?

    Lord Wilde’s dowser. She’s tremendously loyal to the Wilde family and…I don’t know if she’ll pledge loyalty to Felix.

    Willow went cold. Can’t you convince her?

    I’ve tried. She won’t listen.

    And you want me to talk to her. What good will that do?

    I don’t know, but I don’t want to see any more deaths today.

    Willow shook her head. Why would Kerish think she’d have success where he hadn’t?

    They’d taken the woman to Felix’s wagon, where Felix sat regarding her with curiosity. Does she know who I am? he asked Willow.

    I don’t know. She seems pretty far gone. Emmeline? Sit up and show some respect for your King.

    Emmeline shook her head vigorously. Let my boy down, I have. Let down my family. Just let me die.

    Willow hopped down from the wagon. Can I have your canteen? she asked Soltighan, who had his crossbow trained on the woman. Soltighan nodded, but didn’t offer to hand it to her, so Willow unfastened it from his belt and climbed back up, unstopping the cork. She grabbed Emmeline by the hair, pulled her head up, and threw the contents of the canteen in her face. Emmeline gasped and fought back, and Willow released her. That’s better, she said. Now. Take a look at this little boy. Do you recognize him?

    Prince Felix, Emmeline gasped, dashing water out of her face. Dead Prince Felix.

    "Very much alive King Felix, Willow corrected her. I know you were loyal to Lord Wilde’s family, and I respect loyalty. But Lord Wilde gave his loyalty to Terence Valant, who’s nothing but a pretender to the Crown, and I don’t respect that at all. You have a choice. You can swear loyalty to the true King of Tremontane, or you can reject him and…well, you know what happens to traitors. Your choice."

    Emmeline curled into a ball again. All gone, all dead, all gone, she sang quietly to herself. All dead, all dead, all nothing but dead.

    Willow backed away and found Kerish standing near the end of the wagon. Is she faking?

    I can’t tell. I never knew her well, but she always struck me as overly dramatic. Do we have to kill her?

    I don’t know. She seems harmless enough. Keep her a prisoner until we reach Rannis and can turn her over to Lady Heath? Imprisonment could be an acceptable punishment. She ought to have the woman killed, but she’d had her fill of death for one day. And it seemed wrong to execute someone who wasn’t in enough control of her mental faculties to make a choice.

    Have her confined in one of the wagons, and set one of your men to watch her, she told Soltighan. She examined the sky. Just after one o’clock. We’ll make camp now. We need to bury the dead. Kerish, let’s pitch our tent, and then I’ll write a letter to Lady Heath. She took a deep breath. I suddenly have a lot more to say.

    Chapter Two

    Willow paced the confines of the little tent, restless and bored. They’d arrived outside Rannis around ten o’clock that morning, and Willow had ordered what Kerish called the negotiation tent pitched first, away from the rest of the camp. It was as elegant as all the other Eskandelic tents, snowy white and finely stitched, and contained three folding chairs, elaborately carved and decorated. Willow had never been more grateful for the Eskandelic tendency to put frills on everything. It made her feel as if she were meeting the Countess of Huddersfield on more than an equal footing.

    Willow? Felix said. Are you worried? He was seated on one of the chairs with his legs dangling.

    What? Of course not.

    Then why won’t you sit down?

    His voice was tense, higher-pitched than usual, and his small hands gripped the armrests so hard his knuckles were white. Willow sank into the seat next to him and pried up one of his hands. I always have a lot of energy before I go midnighting. This is just how it comes out.

    But you’re not midnighting now.

    No, but it’s sort of the same thing, convincing someone you’re right. She didn’t say and the consequences of failing could be disastrous, not only because it would worry Felix but because she didn’t want the stolid bodyguards, standing at attention in a row behind them, to think she was weak. It didn’t matter what they thought, so long as they kept Felix safe, but she had a feeling their respect of her influenced what they thought of their small charge.

    Kerish poked his head inside the tent. There’s a small army headed this way.

    Willow shot to her feet and pushed past him. Sound the alarm.

    A troop of armed and armored soldiers were, in fact, headed their way along and beside the road that wound through fields of ripe corn. The tall stalks bent in their passage, irritating Willow. Trust a noble not to care what happened to the fields of common workers.

    I think they’re stopping, Kerish said. Well away from us.

    She’s disregarding my instructions. We need to be ready to fight. But she waved off Soltighan’s second in command, who looked poised to execute her order. It worried her that the officers were willing to take orders from someone not in their chain of command, unless Janida had instructed them to…no time to worry about it now.

    A few people on horseback approached ahead of the troops. One of them carried a staff with the Huddersfield flag attached to it, hanging limp in the airless noon. The rest of the troops did seem to have stopped. Willow cursed, then looked quickly back at Felix. The pinched, frightened look was back. She went into the tent and knelt by his side.

    It’s all right, she said. We outnumber them, and I won’t let them anywhere near you if they’re armed. Don’t be afraid. You need to be a King today. Can you do that?

    Felix nodded. Hilarion says a King should rule his fear and not let it rule him. So I won’t.

    That’s very wise. And I’m going to sit next to you, and we’ll be brave together.

    Felix laughed. I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.

    I don’t let it rule me, either.

    She stood and murmured in Kerish’s ear, Have them searched thoroughly before you let them in here. Kerish nodded and took a few steps away from the tent door, and Willow went to sit by Felix, gripping his hand briefly before resting hers on the arm of her chair. She flexed her left arm, testing the fit of her forearm blade. Was the Countess trained to fight? Most noblewomen weren’t, but Willow wasn’t going to make assumptions that could get someone killed.

    The tent walls muffled the noises from outside, making Willow feel like she was underwater in a hot, dry sea. She smiled at Felix, who didn’t smile back. This was stupid. Why did she even care about Tremontane, again? Because this is the right thing to do. Because you care about the people living here. The urge to take Felix and Kerish and run southward was growing again. She ruthlessly stomped it into paste. She’d chosen her path, and she would see it through to the end. No fear. Not ever.

    The sound of horses’ harnesses came to them, distantly, and Kerish’s voice saying, Stop there. Then silence. Willow scratched her armpit. The tent was too warm, and she was starting to sweat. It had nothing to do with nerves, but suppose the Countess thought otherwise? Nothing she could do about it now.

    Footsteps, approaching, growing louder. Kerish pushed open the tent flap and said, Lady Philippa Heath, Countess of Huddersfield.

    Willow stood, putting a restraining hand on Felix’s arm to keep him from doing the same. Lady Heath, she said, inclining her head and praying this was how the nobles did it. Everything she’d learned about nobility, she’d learned from watching Rufus Black and his fellow dukes of crime. That was probably all wrong, but it was another thing she couldn’t do anything about now.

    Lady Heath didn’t react as if she was mortally offended. She bowed her head to Willow, moving forward to allow four other people to enter behind her. Then she turned her attention on Felix. So it is true, she said in a deep, almost masculine voice. You have brought Felix Valant back to Tremontane.

    It’s true, Willow said, inwardly sagging with relief. Suppose Lady Heath had never seen Felix before? Convincing someone that Felix was who he said he was would be incredibly difficult, given that she herself was unknown to the rulers of Tremontane and was no one they’d be inclined to trust. One step closer to gaining Lady Heath’s support.

    May I sit, your Majesty? Lady Heath said. She didn’t offer to introduce her escort, which Willow found odd. They were important enough to come to this meeting, but not important enough to be made known to the King? She felt her grip on the situation slipping. There were so many things she didn’t know about being noble, and at some point she’d do something truly stupid and Lady Heath would know she was an impostor.

    Please, Felix said, and Lady Heath took her seat across from him. Her escort lined up behind her, and Willow spared them a quick glance: three men and one woman, all dressed finely but not in court clothing, just as the Countess was. Two of the men were elderly, the third man was middle-aged like the Countess, and the woman was maybe a few years younger than Willow. None of them, including the Countess, were armed, not even with hidden blades that would make silvery streaks across her perception. It was all the observation she had time for, because the Countess was saying, So your Majesty intends to reclaim the Crown from Terence Valant? Is that the reason for the large body of Eskandelic soldiers you travel with?

    They’re my bodyguards. They’re to protect me from Uncle Terence until we have Tremontanan soldiers.

    And you want me to pledge my men to your cause.

    We want the Counts and Barons of Tremontane to support their rightful ruler, Willow said. You’ve already pledged your fealty to Felix in your letter.

    I recognized him as King, contingent on him being who he said he was, Lady Heath said. That doesn’t mean I’ll support him.

    Your King can demand your support. Either you believe that’s who Felix is, or you don’t.

    How long have you been in Eskandel, Lady North?

    Most of four months. I don’t see how that’s relevant.

    Things have changed. Terence Valant controls the government with his Ascendants. They are as good as an army, and none of us—none of the provincial rulers—maintain enough of an armed force to go against them. Alric Quinn is preparing to rise up against him, but even he and his allies are bound to fail without a way to neutralize the Ascendants. Valant represents stability, even if it’s the stability of fear. Disturbing the new status quo could be disastrous.

    Terence Valant rules Tremontane illegally. Do you really want to live under his thumb?

    What I want is peace. We have peace, for now.

    Willow stood. You have the peace of slavery, is what you have, she said. Terence is going to go on making demands of you and the people of Tremontane. He’s going to allow his fellow Ascendants to rule unjustly over this country and not rein in their excesses. He has to be stopped.

    Lady Heath looked up at Willow, but made no move to rise. The young King would do better never to be discovered. Terence will kill him to cement his claim to the Crown. If you go into battle against him, the Ascendants will destroy you.

    They won’t. We have a way to defeat them.

    Lady Heath raised a pencil-thin eyebrow. Do you.

    We do. And I can prove it.

    There are no Ascendants here.

    We just need a source. Do you have a Dev—a dowser in your household?

    Lady Heath indicated one of the elderly men, who was tall and stoop-shouldered with bright blue eyes. Lord Carrington.

    Lord Carrington, if you’d be so good as to locate the nearest source?

    The bright blue eyes regarded her briefly as Lord Carrington considered her request. Follow me, he finally said. Willow prodded Felix to follow Lady Heath’s party, surrounded by his bodyguards.

    Carrington headed back along the road toward the waiting troop of Huddersfield soldiers. Stop right there, Willow said. Kerish?

    Kerish had a distant look in his eye that said he was listening to something. There’s a source in that direction, he said. It’s not as far as those soldiers.

    All right. Continue, my lord.

    Carrington’s expression went sour, and he glanced

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1