Chapter
Fifteen
orgive my son’s impertinence,” Remis said with a charming smile. He poured two goblets of wine and placed one in front“F of me. “When he was born, I named him after my elder brother, the late King, in the hopes they would grow close. It worked a little too well. Ulther took Luther under his wing and spoiled him terribly. Now the boy doesn’t know how to be told no.”
The edge of cruelty in Remis’s tone provoked an unexpected urge to defend Luther. Just yesterday I’d been happy to drive the wedge deeper between them. Why did I feel guilty it was working?
“Your son has been quite forthcoming with information today—thanks to your guidance, I’m sure,” I said. “But I’m far more interested in the information you can provide.”
Remis gave a deferential nod. “Consider me an open book.”
I smiled prettily. “I may be young, but I’m not naive. I’m well aware I am ill prepared for these House Receptions. I’ll need your help to ensure they go smoothly.”
He pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m honored, Your Majesty. I would be happy to go in your stead and represent your interests.”
My smile strained. I didn’t believe for a second Remis had misunderstood my meaning. Perhaps he assumed I would be too flustered or embarrassed to correct him.
He was very wrong.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll be conducting my own meetings.” I took my goblet in hand and sank casually against the back of my chair. “But the counsel you give today will determine whether those meetings are successful. That will be instrumental to me in selecting my advisors.”
Remis didn’t falter, his smile holding steady. “Of course. The Receptions are an opportunity for the top echelon of Lumnos to learn more about you, establish new trade alliances, and—”
“And decide if they plan to Challenge me.” I arched a brow. “That is the real purpose, isn’t it? Not all the posturing and glad-handing.”
“With respect, Your Majesty, the posturing and glad-handing is precisely how the Houses will decide if they plan to Challenge you.”
I tilted my head but remained quiet, a silent order to continue.
“The Houses have little benefit in raising a Challenge,” he explained. “If they do so and fail, they not only lose the most powerful member of their House, but they also make an enemy of the Crown and House Corbois.”
I nodded. “And even if their Challenge succeeds, they still risk making an enemy of the ruling House, given that Luther would likely be my replacement if I am killed.”
Remis shrugged lightly. “Perhaps. My son’s magic was once believed to be unequaled. It appears he was severely overestimated. His status as the presumptive heir is not as certain as it once was.”
His implication—that I was so weak, my very existence as Queen diminished Luther’s strength—grated on me. “My power was unknown because I was raised among mortals, isolated from your kind.”
“Our kind,” he corrected.
My grip tightened on my goblet. “My upbringing was hardly normal. It’s unlikely there are others like me.”
But even as I denied it, I thought of the half-mortals Luther had smuggled to other realms. How powerful might they be?
Perhaps Remis had a point—if the magic had chosen an outsider like me to wear the Crown, one of the exiled children could be next.
All the more reason to stick to my plan. I needed powerful allies, and who better than the children this realm had abandoned? If I could find them and convince them to fight at my side, we could be a force to be reckoned with.
“Regardless,” I said, “there is a risk to the Houses in bringing a Challenge against me, successful or not. So what reason
would they have for doing so?”
“There’s only one reason, really.”
He paused, then took a torturously slow sip of his wine, seeming to savor the knowledge he had the advantage. I clenched my teeth and forced myself not to react.
“A Challenge would only appeal to them if they believe you will endanger the Twenty Houses.” His eyes flashed with a dangerous glint. “All of them. Including mine.”
I choked out a laugh. “You think they’ll Challenge me if I’m a threat to you?”
“Not at all. I’m sure many would be happy to see you threaten me, or even threaten House Corbois. We have held power for a long time, and there are many who wish to see a change.”
Oh Remis, I purred internally. You have no idea.
“But,” he continued, “there are some matters on which all the Houses are aligned. They may be willing to risk a Challenge if they believe House Corbois would not seek retribution for acting in defense of a mutual interest.”
I returned his penetrating stare, channeling all of my strength into the timbre of my voice. “Then it’s your job to convince them House Corbois will stand by its Queen—no matter what.”
Remis settled back and matched my relaxed posture. “The other Houses know us well. They have seen which of our priorities and goals have remained steadfast through many Crowns. Any deviation from those values now would be seen as coming from you alone, regardless of any assurances I make.”
“So I need to assure them nothing will change.” I idly traced a finger along the rim of my glass. “Fine. I can tell them what they want to hear.”
“If only it were so easy. The Houses may expect to receive certain... binding assurances.”
“What kind of assurance could they possibly expect? The last King did whatever he wanted without consequence—” His upper lip curled slightly at my words. “—I doubt they’ll expect any less of me.”
“They may ask you to enter into a bonded bargain.”
He said the final two words with a tricky smile, a gleam of arrogance as he toyed with me. I had no clue what a bonded bargain was, and I suspected he knew it.
For a moment, I regretted not insisting that Luther stay. He had a way of anticipating the things I didn’t know and slipping the answers to me in a way that never made me feel ignorant or ashamed. Luther probably would have goaded Remis to lay out everything he knew from the very beginning instead of engaging in this painful, prolonged tug-of-war.
But Luther wasn’t the Crown—I was. And no matter what fondness might be growing between us, he was not part of my long-term plans. I needed to show everyone, including Remis—including myself—that I could handle the throne on my own.
I faked a yawn and idly swirled my wine. “This meeting is growing tedious. Get to the point.”
I took the tiniest victory from the way his smugness vanished. “Under a bonded bargain, if a party breaks an agreement, they lose their magic until they follow through on the terms. If they cannot, their magic is gone forever. The bargains are sealed using the Forging magic that created the nine realms, so even a Crown can’t escape the consequences.”
“I’m not putting my magic at risk to ensure a House gets preferential treatment on some trivial concern.”
“Of course not, Your Majesty. A bonded bargain is a risk to both parties. They will only demand it for matters of the highest
importance.”
“And what matters are those?”
He gave another lazy, half-hearted shrug. “It could be any number of things.”
“Be frank or stop wasting my time, Remis,” I snapped.
“Matters involving mortals,” he said curtly. “Rebel attacks are increasing in every realm. We had one on our own soil just days ago. The Houses will expect you to find and execute the terrorists responsible and suppress any further rebellion.”
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly as dry as the Ignios deserts. “If King Ulther couldn’t stop the attacks, what do they expect me to do?”
“For all my late brother’s accomplishments, his strength against the rebels was not one of them. The Houses have long complained that the Crown is far too soft when it comes to mortals.”
My shock was so visceral, so loaded with the memories of too many injustices to number, that my body reacted before I could stop myself.
“Soft?” I hissed. I gripped the arms of my chair and leaned forward, my fingernails carving into the polished wood. “There is not a mortal or half-mortal in all of Lumnos who would label the King’s treatment of them as soft.” My face twisted in revulsion. “Especially all the children buried in the gods-damned ground.”
His dark blue eyes darted over my face and body, taking in the signs of my rage, and I was immediately aware of how fully I had shown my hand.
But I didn’t care. The cold numbness following my explosion in the dungeon had finally faded, and my temper now filled my belly with a familiar fire. It wasn’t the violence-loving malice of the godhood, but a reminder of who I was at my core—a woman who cared deeply and would fight tooth and nail for those who needed defending.
“What exactly would Houses have me do, round up all the mortals and execute them?” I seethed.
Instead of denying it, Remis looked thoughtful, and my anger spiked. I had the vague sense that might have been exactly why
he did it.
“Many feel that we should follow the lead of the other realms who have closed their borders to mortals,” he said.
“And what of the mortals already here?”
He breathed out a weary sigh. “That has been particularly controversial. Most believe we should at least set up a perimeter to limit their movement.” He watched me carefully, though he kept his expression perfectly vacant as he talked. “Ulther made quite a few enemies when he refused to forbid romantic relations between mortals and Descended. He outlawed the offspring as a compromise, but I’ve no doubt the Houses will expect to see that loophole closed.”
Everything in me wanted to jump out of my chair and scream. The entitlement, the inhumanity, the utter lack of compassion or decency— “Should I take this to mean you desire to take a lighter approach?” Remis asked calmly.
A million angry words stomped on my tongue as Luther’s advice played in my head: Tell them as little as possible. About yourself, your plans, your magic.
No good would come from revealing my intentions here. Even if some bout of temporary insanity convinced me that I could use Remis in my plans, it would be as a pawn, not an ally.
I leaned back and drummed my fingers on the table. “Keeping the realm safe is, of course, my top priority. All those who have taken innocent lives will be dealt with swiftly and harshly.” I softened my expression, giving him my most appeasing smile. “Your counsel today has been most helpful. I can see you being a vital part of my reign. Perhaps in an even larger role than you were offered by your late brother.”
My arrow struck true. Remis’s smile danced with the promise of power.
“But only if you convince me you can control the Twenty Houses,” I warned. “You spoke once of the relationships House Corbois wields—so use them. Show me you can be trusted to protect my interests as well as your own.”
Remis gave me an appraising stare, and I watched as the gears spun in his mind. He didn’t like me, but short of inheriting the Crown himself, I was his best shot at maintaining power. And he knew it.
“May I offer some very blunt advice, Your Majesty?”
“By all means, please do.”
“Defer to me in the House Receptions. Let them believe you’re an empty-headed girl willingly controlled by me.”
I snorted my rejection, and Remis raised a palm, cutting me short.
“Only until after the Challenging,” he amended. “The other Houses know I will aim to keep power within House Corbois.
That will focus their negotiations on more selfish concerns for them or their Houses...”
“...instead of issues that concern the entire realm, such as the mortals,” I finished, slowly understanding.
Remis nodded with a vulpine smile. “Go to the ball and play the part. Be the vapid girl they expect. If they ask you a question of any importance, tell them only to take it up with me. It will infuriate them—but in a way that is predictable and easy to control.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. If I could keep attention off me and keep the Houses focused on Remis, I might stand a chance. I raised my goblet of wine to him in salute. “Clever, Regent. Very clever.”
Remis gave me a gracious nod, his lips quivering with the self-satisfied grin he was failing badly at hiding. “It would also be wise to take a young Corbois man as your attendant to control speculation about your marriage prospects.”
I started to announce Aemonn as my escort, then thought better of it as a plan began to form. “Which of my handsome new cousins would you recommend for the job?”
“It seems you and my son have become well acquainted. Word has already spread that he remains a fixture at your side.”
I kept my face completely still, offering no reaction.
“Though Aemonn might be a wiser choice,” Remis went on. “He is well-known to be loyal to House Corbois. And, if my brother Garath believed you to be susceptible to his son’s charms, he might be persuaded to assist you, as well.”
“Brilliant idea,” I said with a clap of my hands. “I’ll take your advice and ask Aemonn to be my escort.”
More like he already blackmailed me into it, but better to keep that to myself.
“I’m pleased we’re on the same page, Your Majesty. I desire only to serve you.”
I almost laughed out loud.
I was beginning to understand Remis and his motives. If he had any real convictions about mortals or half-mortals, or even the rebels, he would have pushed harder on the subject. Instead, he’d changed course at the first offer of a prestigious title.
I had a strong suspicion the only thing Remis Corbois truly cared about protecting was Remis Corbois. If I could use him as a shield against the other Houses by dangling power as a lure—that was a tool I could work with.
“I’ve asked Eleanor to be my advisor,” I added. “She will be joining us at the House Receptions.”
Remis balked. “Eleanor Corbois?”
“The one and only.”
He considered it for a moment, then slowly dipped his chin. “I suppose it does play into the image we are creating of a vapid Queen who cares nothing of important matters.”
The comment irked me on Eleanor’s behalf, but I held my tongue. Let him underestimate her—and me. After the Challenging, he would learn what we both were capable of.
I rose to my feet, suddenly anxious to leave. “This has been most enlightening.”
He mirrored the movement slowly. “There’s just one last thing, Your Majesty. Given the loyalty House Corbois is offering in support of your reign, it seems appropriate that we should formalize our arrangement.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
The shrewd gleam in his eye had my blood chilling in warning. “A bonded bargain, of course.” He flashed a broad smile.
“We can keep the terms simple enough. You agree to claim House Corbois for the length of your reign, and in exchange, House Corbois will not raise a Challenge against you.”
My brows pinched into a deep crease. “And you won’t support or encourage any other House to raise a Challenge against me, either?”
He nodded and spread his hands wide. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I twisted and stretched the words to their limits, searching for trapdoors in the language. If I agreed to this, I would be bound to House Corbois for life—but nothing in the bargain stopped me from taking down the House from within. And if I refused, I might not live long enough to get the chance.
“Agreed,” I said finally.
“Splendid,” he announced, his smile spreading wider. He unfastened the clasps at his cuffs, then folded the fabric up to reveal his forearm. “The bargain requires two exchanges. First, an offering of blood to seal our oath.”
His fingers twitched, and a blade of pale blue light shimmered to life and sliced a shallow cut into his wrist. His eyes rose expectantly to me.
I flashed him a menacing smile and reached into my cleavage, where I’d stashed a small, thin knife. I might have been dressed like a songbird, but inside I was still a hawk.
“I prefer shedding blood the old fashioned way,” I muttered, wedging the sharp tip into my flesh.
“Then let us hope your enemies do, too. Magic can strike a killing blow so much faster than a blade.”
My eyes narrowed at the implicit threat. “What’s the second offering?”
“A symbol of what’s at stake.” He held out his arm with a haughty smile. “A drop of your magic for a drop of mine.”
I froze. I had never summoned a drop of my magic before—it had only ever come in a tidal wave of lethal destruction or nothing at all. I wasn’t entirely opposed to wiping Remis off the map, but doing so accidentally, and before the Challenging, wasn’t quite ideal.
“Is there a problem?” Remis asked, stretching his arm out further.
I gave a stiff shake of my head and clasped his forearm so our wounds aligned, the trickles of blood pressing to an angry smear. The godhood inside me stirred, agitated at Remis’s touch.
“I, Remis Corbois, bond my magic to this bargain of my own free will.” His eyes raised to me.
I pulled the words forward with effort, my throat thick with nerves. “I, Diem Bellator, bond my magic to this bargain of my own free will.”
A burst of warmth flared against my wrist, and my magic responded unbidden. An answering pulse of energy shot down my arm and flowed through the wound, drawn from my blood like a magnet. A cold tingling sensation circled my wrist and pulled tight.
Remis abruptly released me and flexed his fingers, but the feeling of his grip on my arm remained, an invisible shackle locked in place.
“It’s very important that we keep this bargain between us. Some in House Corbois would be willing to Challenge you just to cost me my magic.” His gaze darkened. “Especially those powerful enough to believe they can defeat you.”
I frowned, but I nodded in agreement. I didn’t need his pointed look to know there was only one Corbois who fit that description.
Remis beamed like he had won some critical advantage, leaving me with a nagging unease. “Let me be the first to formally welcome you to House Corbois.”
I rubbed my still-throbbing wrist. “Has my mysterious Corbois father been chosen?”
“Indeed.” He retrieved a book from a nearby shelf, then cracked it open and laid the pages before me, his finger tracing the ink of a handwritten family tree. “Harold Corbois. He was the last of his line.”
I skimmed the information below Harold’s name. He had no spouse or siblings, born just before the death of his parents, and deceased a month before my own birth.
Curiously convenient.
“Is there anything I should know about my dear departed sire?” I asked.
“I believe the less you know about him, Your Majesty, the better.”
I looked once more at the family records. The ink on Harold’s listing was thicker and bolder than the other faded entries on the page.
I wondered if dear Harold ever even existed at all.
“Well, then.” I gently tapped my finger over his scrawled name. “Rest in peace, Father.”
