The Heart of Betrayal (The Remnant Chronicles 2)

He blinked. His lips half parted.

“You look surprised,” the Komizar said.

Rafe finally found his voice. “Are you sure? The queen was in good health when I left.”

“You know how those scourges are. They ravage some more quickly than others. But my riders witnessed a rather impressive funeral pyre. Those royals are quite extravagant about such things.”

Rafe nodded absently, silent for another long while. “Yes … I know.”

The pain of my utter helplessness surged through me. I couldn’t go to him, couldn’t hold him in my arms, couldn’t even offer him the simplest words of comfort.

The Komizar leaned forward, apparently noting Rafe’s reaction. “You cared for the queen?”

Rafe looked at him, his eyes as fragile as glass. “She was a quiet woman,” he answered. “Not like—” His chest rose deeply, and he took a drink of his ale.

“Not like that dried-up bastard she’s saddled with? Those are the toughest ones to kill.”

I watched the steel return to Rafe’s eyes. “Yes,” he said, a frightening smile on his lips, “but even the tough ones die eventually.”

“Let’s hope sooner rather than later, so your prince and I can strike our deal.”

“It won’t be long,” Rafe assured him. “You can count on that. The prince may even help matters along if he has to.”

“A ruthless son?” the Komizar said, his words dripping with admiration.

“A determined one.”

The Komizar nodded his approval of the prince’s pending patricide, then added, “For your sake, I hope very determined. The days do tick by, and my distaste for royal schemes hasn’t diminished. I graciously host his emissary, but not without a price that must be paid. One way or another.”

Rafe managed an icy grin. “I wouldn’t worry. You’ll be repaid tenfold for your efforts.”

“Very well, then,” the Komizar answered, as if pleased with the bounty promised, and motioned for the dishes to be cleared away. In almost the same breath, he ordered more drinks to be poured. The servants came forward with the expensive vintage of the Morrighese vineyards, one never shared beyond personal gifts to the governors. I chewed my lip. I knew what this meant. No, not now. Hadn’t he shared enough news for one day? Hadn’t Rafe heard enough for one night?

But then he twisted it into something even worse—he made me tell them. “Our princess would like to share some news too.” He stared at me, his eyes chiseled stone, waiting.

My muscles were loose, wobbly, drained of strength. It felt as if I had already walked a thousand miles, and now I was asked to walk one more. I couldn’t do it. I wanted to stop trying and cease to care. I closed my eyes, but a stubborn flame that couldn’t be doused still burned.

Convince them. Convince me.

When I opened my eyes, his gaze was still fixed on me, and I met his marble stare. He commanded a marriage, which in his own words meant many more freedoms, but more freedom also meant more power—something he hated to share.

His eyes grew sharp at my delay. Demanding.

And maybe that was the deciding prod in my ribs, as it had always been.

Another mile. For you, Komizar. I smiled, a smile he surely thought was by his order. I’d give him his marriage, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t turn some fraction of this moment to my advantage, and fractions of moments after that, until they added up to something whole and fearsome, because with my last dying breath, I would make him regret the day he ever laid eyes on me.

I reached out, caressed his cheek, heard the murmurs

at the unexpected display of affection, then I pushed back my chair and stood on it. The tables that had been added to accommodate the additional elders and quarterlords at the meal reached to the end of the hall. By standing on the chair, I made certain they could all see and hear me. Hold my tongue, indeed.

“My brethren,” I called out, my voice loud and overflowing with all the grand flourishes that would please the Komizar. “Today’s a great day for me, and I hope when I share my news, you’ll agree it’s a great day for us all. I owe you all much. You’ve given me a home. I’ve been welcomed by you, shared your cups of thannis, been warmed by your fires, your handshakes, and your hopes. The clothes that adorn my back have come from you too. I’ve received more than I have given, but now I hope to repay your kindnesses. Today the Komizar has asked me to—” I deliberately paused, drawing out the moment, and watched them lean forward, sit taller, their mouths hanging open, breaths held, drinks poised, eyes riveted. I paused just long enough that the Komizar saw and understood that he was not the only one who knew how to command a room, and finally, when even he edged forward in his seat just a bit, I spoke again. “Today your Komizar has asked me to stand by his side, to be his wife and queen, but I come to you first, because before I answer him, I must know that you think my place here will serve Venda. So I ask, what say you, elders, lords, brothers, and sisters? Shall I accept the Komizar’s proposal? Yea or nay?”

A breathless hush filled the hall, and then a deafening Yea! Yea! Fists lifted to the air; hands pounded on tables; feet stomped the floor; tankards sloshed and spilled in toasts. I jumped down from the chair and leaned over the Komizar, kissing him fully and enthusiastically, which made the hall erupt in more earsplitting cheers.

I pulled back slightly, but my lips grazed his as if we were lovers who couldn’t part. “You wanted a convincing performance,” I whispered. “You got one.”

“A little excessive, don’t you think?”