Page 29 of Autumn Queens & Shadows

“That throne was made for my son to sit on,” a man in front of me said to the Lord of Modr. “It is fate. Destiny. He will preposition her tomorrow morning.”

Lord of Modr nodded. “And so will every other eligible bachelor in the whole of Numen.”

“No one is as good as my son.”

“No one is as good as her. Have you thought about that? Your son wouldn’t survive under her shade, not even a day.”

He threw an almost disgusted and dumbfounded look at the older man. “I know it is your duty to speak highly of her, but you don’t have to think the same when you’re between us.”

Lord of Modr drew out a polite laughter. “If you know what I thought of her, you’d believe me to be a traitor of the Isjord you know.”

Obviously displeased, the man shot the Lord of Mord one last disapproving look and then moved a distance away from him, starting the same chatter with another lord.

Thora lowered a white rose over the casket and then the others followed. The nettle was still working well because tears were pouring endlessly despite the bored look on her face.

The fact that no one in that whole graveyard believed her was making it harder for me to not laugh.

“She’s exemplary in her role,” Lord of Modr said to no one, so I assumed he was speaking to me. “The playbook monarch. The best I’ve seen in the four hundred years of my life.” He thrust a hand forward for me to take, either because he didn’t know who I was, or those four hundred years were catching up to him and he’d forgotten that no one shook the hand of an Empath. “I care very little about pain, Prince Malik. Take my hand.”

Huh. “You assume pain is the worst I can do,” I said, shaking his hand.

“Who’d want to hurt an old man like me?”

“Someone who knows what an old man like you is capable of. What grave did they dig up a prime Verglasser like you from and why? Most importantly, who did?”

He gruffly laughed and pointed his chin at his queen. “Her. Dug me right up and will bury me one day, too, with how things are going,” he said with a pensive grunt. “I am her mentor and…an old friend of Skadi’s, if she’d allow me to call myself so. They call me Karl Modr these days.”

“Mentor?”

“She knew ice, but ice did not know her. I introduced them. Then she made me wear a three-piece suit, argue with brainless men all day and sat my old arse in perhaps the most uncomfortable wooden seat there is in the entirety of Modr.”

“And what is it that you want from me? Besides the entertaining conversation.”

“Nothing, Your Highness. The entertaining conversation was plenty. But you might want something from me. Something along the lines of advice.”

“Do I look like I need any advice?”

“With how she’s been looking at you this entire time, I fear you might need more than just advice. Though I doubt anything to be proficient enough to keep her from making an example out of you. My queen likes to set examples. Very convincing examples. Examples no one wishes to follow.”

I frowned down at him. “You’re one of the few who does not think of her as this dolent saint she makes herself to be.”

“Oh, but beneath the apple tree hide grass snakes, Your Highness. I fed that grass snake myself and have not the slightest idea how I’ve been doing so for the past ten years without being bitten to my death. Especially since she does not keep companions, only obedient servants. And servants come with an expiry date.”

“Are you telling me to feed the snake or not?”

“You, prince, are the apple tree. She hides well beneath that unknown power which no one would believe her to possess.”

She’d told him of what I’d taught her? “And what does that make you?”

“The wind I taught her to stand against.”

“What was your advice?” I asked just as he bowed and was about to make his leave.

“Ah, yes,” he chuckled. “Hide her again. To aid your sister-in-law possesses no danger to Adriata and Olympia. You are family, after all. Involving the Adriatian King and Queen in this equation would perhaps be unwise, but that doesn’t extend to you anymore since you’ve revoked most duties to the Night Crown.”

“She’s too proud to let me.” Stubborn. Angry. Know it all. And so many, many more things I couldn’t name.

“I’m reluctant to believe you’re anything but obedient, Prince Malik. I knew your father well and fought beside him at the Ater battles. No one becomes obedient in the hands of a man who teaches cruelty of the finest kind.” He patted my shoulder. “If my queen wishes to make an example out of you, odds are that you will very much survive.” Before he left, I heard him murmur to himself, “With a bruise or two.”