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"We demand redress. Our grievances will not be ignored. It is the role of the king to determine territorial disputes."
"I understand, and he shall. But right now, he is otherwise engaged."
"We must return to our lodging before the tide rises. It has to be now."
"Please come again tomorrow." Harry tried to gently shut the door, but a large brown boot was shoved through. A moment later a sharp dagger stabbed low through the crack.
I gasped and raised a hand to my mouth.
Gracefully, Harry dodged the blow. As he did so, the door opened just an inch wider. Harry drew his sword. "Not another move, or I’ll run you through."
I sighed. All of this violence so a lazy, good-for-nothing king could sleep in or whatever it was he did. I’d finally had enough. I didn’t care to watch a bloodbath unfold before me. "Oh, this is ludicrous! Everyone stop right now. I will wake the king. Sheath your weapons."
A face poked up to the crack, and I saw one very large eye. "Thank you, lady."
"No," said Harry urgently. I could tell he wanted to move to stop me. But even this moment of hesitancy caused the door to open another fraction.
I ignored him and swept across the hall to Forrest's chamber. Ready to finally take out the anger and uncertainty that has been percolating within me since the hot springs. Without bothering to knock or announce myself, I shoved my way right through his bedroom doors. Rosie was right about one thing; our betrothal bond allowed me easy entry.
The inside of his room was shocking. There were piles of clothes on the floor, a plate of half-eaten food on his dressing table, and upturned wine goblets everywhere. The floor had accumulated sand and black mildew in the corners as if he had been calling in the ocean tide.
No one cleaned in here I realized. Why didn’t the brownies come in? Why didn’t the palace staff? What exactly was I looking at?
My eyes roved over to his palatial bed. Its black silk sheets were tossed haphazardly, trailing along the grimy floor. The corners of his duvet appeared damp in places from the tide. But most remarkable of all, there, in the center of the bed, sat a large bullfrog with sharp green eyes.
The king.
I recognized his form from the day he tricked me into our bargain. It did not endear me to his situation. "Get out of bed at once. Change your form, and go help your people. They're likely to break through the doors at any moment. Harry had to draw his sword."
He stared back at me. His green eyes were wide and, unexpectedly, frightened.
Why did he look so shocked? Sure the room was disgusting, but it wasn’t something a five-man team of brownies and a good, week-long deep clean couldn’t fix.
"What's the matter?" I pressed. "Get going."
"I can't." They were the most miserable, defeated words I had ever heard.
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean you can’t?"
He sighed, his whole tiny green body heaving with the effort of his ennui. "I can’t change my form. I can’t help Harry."
There were so many questions I wanted to ask. So many things I wanted to say, but I held them back. I needed to help Harry in the entry before things grew violent. "Wait here," I told Forrest.
I left his room and returned to the crowded entry doors, the ones Harry was barely keeping shut.
When Harry glanced up at me, his look told me everything. He was panicked, not about the men threatening to run him through with swords, but about Forrest.
Whatever was going on with the king, Harry knew. I frowned at him, apparently another member of the cabal of secret keepers around here.
Then I turned my attention toward the fae trying to push their way through the door. "The king is unable to meet with visitors," I said primly.
One of the fae looked angry now. "But you just said, you’d get him. Is he unwell? Maybe we should just–" With collective force, they finally pushed their way through the door, sending Harry flying.
I quickly stepped in their path. "I assure you he is quite well enough to call down lightning. Continue forward if you wish to become a smudge on the palace floor."
They paused for a moment, and I quickly took charge of the situation. I had seen my father do this a dozen times, and it was easy to mimic him. I locked eyes with the men and held up a lazy hand. "However, by his solemn order, Harry is authorized to make this decision on his behalf. His ruling will be final." I looked at them sternly, trying to radiate as much power as I could muster. I was fairly certain I looked less powerful and more like my governess, chastising me for not practicing my needlepoint. But it seemed to work nonetheless.
"Yes, queen." They began to retreat to the hall.
