The Warrior's Curse (The Traitor's Game 3)

I marched toward him with every intent of attacking, but Gabe grabbed my arm to hold me back, whispering that this was not a fight we could win.

Joth merely stared at us as if we were little more than flies to be swatted away, finally saying, “Kestra completed the task she was chosen to do, gave freedom to Antora, and all you can think of her is what a problem she has become. Kestra Dallisor saved all of you! Can you not be grateful enough to postpone thinking of ways to kill her even for a single day?”

Trina had walked to the palace doors, right where Joth had previously stood. “Simon, he spoke the truth. We need to get out there.”

“One minute.” Hoping to placate Joth’s temper, I kept my voice calm. “Will you pass a message to Kestra? Tell her that, at noon the coming day, I will be waiting on the front steps of the palace, unarmed and alone. I only want to speak to her, to thank her for what she has done.”

Joth smiled. “Isn’t that charming? I’ll be sure to tell her.”

Except that his tone clearly indicated he had no intention of telling her what I’d said. He countered, “Instead, I want you to go out there and tell your people to bow before the new ruler of this kingdom here in the courtyard of the palace. And for their sakes, they had all better come.”

I shook my head. “I will pass on no such message until after I speak directly with her.”

“Anyone not in the palace courtyard at noon will be punished,” Joth said. “Whether you give them the message or not.”

“Are those Kestra’s orders, or yours?” I asked.

“Kestra and I share powers, so we share orders,” he said, raising his voice. “You wish to speak to her? Well, you have, through me.”

I tried another tactic. “If she is queen now, I am a king, and I want to open diplomatic talks with her.”

Joth laughed. “Ah yes, King of the Banished. You have only a few hours left to rule over a lost and damaged people. Enjoy it while you can, but there will be no meeting, ever. Now get your scattered Alliance to the courtyard by noon.”

He turned and walked away from us, not once looking back over his shoulder, which meant he had no fear of being followed.

I had until noon tomorrow to figure out a solution.

No, if I waited until noon, the game was over. The countdown had begun. If I was going to win, noon tomorrow would either prove our victory, or destroy us all.

And the clock was ticking.

Somewhere in Highwyn, a steeple clock rang out the time. Midnight. I had been the queen of Antora for exactly twenty-eight minutes and so far had done little but contemplate the insignificance of my title. Considering all that I had done to get here, I felt no satisfaction in merely being a queen.

Should I be an empress? If there were overlords, could I be an overlady?

I supposed these were the problems a new all-powerful leader had to deal with.

Smiling, I began to think of what I should do first: announce to the people that Endrick was dead, I supposed. Perhaps they would cheer, until they realized that I had replaced him. No one would be happy about that.

Not the Dallisors—I wasn’t one of them.

Not the Halderians—more than once, they had rejected me as part of their clan.

Not the Coracks—they wanted me dead.

There were no more Endreans. I was the last of them.

But all of them would kneel at my feet, or they must die.

As I was the last Endrean, so I would be the last queen of Antora as well. For if Endrick had been nearly immortal, then I would correct his errors and reign forever.

“Kestra.” The doors to the room opened, and most amazingly, Darrow was on the other side of them.

I stood, eager for company, someone to congratulate me and counsel me as to how best to introduce my reign to the people. But I had no sooner said his name than I realized he was not alone. Another person entered the throne room with him, and I was anything but happy to see her.

“Harlyn?”

Her hands were shaking, but she would have been even more afraid if she’d known my thoughts. Addressing her, I said, “You enter this room without acknowledging my title, nor showing me the proper respect. Go to your knees, both of you.” I waved my hand, and both Harlyn and Darrow collapsed to their knees. That was better.