Page 11 of To Save a Kingdom

Alinac swallowed, glancing in the direction she’d indicated and dipped his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She nodded once to acknowledge his response before turning to Macherall. “And if you want wood for your buildings and fireplaces, I recommend you play nice with Lord Alinac.”

The two nobles cleared their throats and avoided looking at each other. She knew enough about court politics to understand their families were rivals, but regardless… “You all have a responsibility to the realm and the people. I expect you to cooperate for their benefit.” She held their eyes until the silence became heavy, leaving the implied or else unsaid.

If they couldn’t work together, they’d lose the privileges granted to them.

Before the threat could curdle in their thick skulls, she turned to the final man beside her father.

“Lord Castedrass, you’re in charge of mining. Who mines what where, making sure safety measures are in place, guaranteeing we have all the material we need, both for ourselves and to meet our new obligations to the dwarves.”

The beady-eyed man licked his lips and nodded, a smile dancing on the edges of his mouth. “Your Majesty.”

Zadé’s boot slid from the table to the floor with a thud. “Speaking of mines and safety measures, Princess…” She swallowed, coughing as the human nobles gasped at the misuse of Aliya’s title.

No doubt they thought it was intended as an insult. Aliya flinched and exhaled, wishing by all the mages Zadé hadn’t slipped up so publicly. It would do nothing but inflame the tension between the humans and elves.

“I mean, Your Majesty,” Zadé corrected, “we need to speak about the Brisimin Labor Camp.”

Aliya blinked. “The what?” She’d never heard of such a place.

Elessan crossed the room in three strides and clamped his hand on Zadé’s shoulder. “Now is not the time,” he whispered in Elven.

Zadé batted his arm away. “Why not? We’re in a council meeting. Now’s the perfect chance to discuss it.”

The edges of Elessan’s mouth hardened.

“He’s right, general.” Princess Tsara’s clear voice rang across the chamber. “That’s a private matter we can talk about later. And sit down, Svialto—it gives me shivers to have you lurking in the shadows.” She turned her attention to Aliya. “We also need to consider your supply of Whisperers.”

The soft rasp of wood over stone as Elessan pulled out the chair next to Zadé echoed in Aliya’s ringing head.

She longed to demand that no, they were going to tell her what this labor camp was but her gaze flicked to the flat faces of the human nobles and she bit back the words. Tsara was right—this looked to be an emotionally charged conversation, and she couldn’t afford to stumble into it blind.

Elessan met her eyes and shook his head, the movement barely perceptible.

She swallowed the impulse so hard she choked. Fine. They’d discuss it later. Turning her focus back to the elven female, she raised her eyebrow. “What about the Whisperers?”

Tsara adjusted her weight so she was sitting more upright, if that was even possible. “How many you have, and how you’re going to go about deactivating them.” Her intense eyes bored into Aliya.

The princess’ words were like a freight barge, threatening to plow Aliya over before she had the chance to collect her bearings. The Whisperers had been the furthest thing from her mind since Malkov’s head had been separated from his body. After all, she had no intention of ever using them.

She ran a hand through her hair, pulling a few stray strands away from her face, wishing for all the world she could put this conversation off until she had time to figure out the answers. But this question was important to Tsara, and Aliya understood why. She’d want to know, too, if Whisperers had been used in war against her people.

“Um…” Aliya turned to the nobles, each staring at the elves with expressionless faces. “How many Whisperers do we have?”

The silence stretched.

“How many?” she asked again, glaring at them.

“Daughter.”

Aliya almost jumped at her father’s quiet voice. Mastering her reaction, she spun on him. “Do you know?”

“The most recent count, I believe, was less than five.” He nodded apologetically to Tsara. “Though, as I’m sure you are aware, the master artificer was the only one familiar with how to activate and deactivate them.”

Elessan swore under his breath as a lump of lead congealed in Aliya’s gut.

The master artificer, who had escaped last night with the help of the Arcane Inquisitor.