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Kaera does not break her gaze. “A total war requires preparation, not reckless panic. Our father’s divided vanguard was designed to secure the borders while keeping our armies from being exposed in the frost. Look at the truth of the maps before you send Riverath into a war we are not prepared to fight.”
Maereth raises one hand. “Enough.” She steps down from the platform, her eyes sweeping across the nobles, the guards stationed along the walls, and the knights gathered beneath the royal banners. “You have spent long enough arguing over maps, trade routes, and what Zahraan might do next,” she says. “While you debate, our enemy prepares. While you hesitate, our people suffer. I will not stand here and watch Riverath become a kingdom ruled by fear.”
A murmur spreads through the chamber. Maereth turns toward the guards. “Knights of Riverath. Guards of the crown. You answer to the throne. You will prepare the vanguard for war.”
The chamber erupts. Nobles begin shouting over one another, chairs scrape violently against the stone, and advisors rise from their seats as voices collide across the hall.
“Your Majesty—” someone attempts to protest.
Maereth’s voice cuts through them. “Silence! I am your queen. And until the king returns to this hall, my authority stands.”
The guards straighten. One by one, they lower their heads. “Yes, Your Majesty.” The response spreads through the chamber as more voices join them.
Maereth turns back toward Kaera and Cael, her expression cold and victorious. “Let it be known that Riverath will no longer wait for Zahraan to decide our fate.”
Elara looks up at Cael, pleading for him to sign something. Indicate something. It is possible he could make one final move to convince the court that his authority could stand against Maereth’s. Nothing. Cael’s hands remain at his sides.
The nobles begin to rise from their seats, murmuring among themselves as they file out of the chamber. Guards move from their positions along the walls, following the Queen’s orders. Knights gather beneath the royal banners, their voices low as they begin preparing for what comes next. One by one, the chamber empties.
Kaera remains still, staring at her mother in disbelief. Cael steps closer to Elara’s side, silently standing with her as the last of the nobles disappear through the doors.
Queen Maereth turns toward Cael. “I promised you. I warned you that I would prove how useless you all are. I will rule this kingdom as a greater queen, by my own power and my own orders.”
“What?” Elara asks, her breath hitching.
A faint smile touches Maereth’s lips. “You wish to know what happens when the king can no longer stand before his kingdom,” she says. “Now you will see.”
Cael’s hand closes around Elara’s. Neither of them speaks. Beyond the council doors, the sound of marching footsteps begins to fade into the corridors. The kingdom is already moving according to the Queen’s command.
Elara realizes that no one is coming to stop her.
XXXIV
A PALACE DIVIDED
E
Elara falls into her seat.
The doors slam shut and the professional silence shatters in an instant. Kaera turns on her heel, her long black sleeves swishing as her eyes lock onto Cael. “How could you stand there and let her take everything?”
Cael’s head tilts downward, facing the floorboards while he recovers from the events. Veins twitch in his neck, growing distinct. The tension in his frame mounting until he signs his response. The lords choose to follow her mandate because they are blinded by their own panic. She capitalizes on their collective rage and sense of loss from the attack, an emotional leverage that shields her actions from their scrutiny. They obey her commands out of a desire for vengeance, ignoring the boundaries of my legal title.
Kaera lets out a harsh breath, her finger pointing at Cael. “You could have at least signed something. You have the iron quill in your hand, but you freeze like a coward the moment she steps inside. The outer lords were ready to back our divided vanguard. They were reaching for the ink before she broke the doors down.”
Cael steps forward, the movement closing the gap between them. The outer lords are sheep looking for an executioner! his hands slash through the space, his gestures cutting the silence. Did you not see their faces? They did not want paper logs. They wanted blood. If I sign a refusal, Maereth orders the vanguard to arrest us for treason right there on the platform!
Kaera does not back away, her hands curling into tight fists. “So, we yield? We allow her to march our soldiers into a valley bottleneck because you fear a confrontation? Father is failing in his bedchamber, Cael. He spent his life building our defense lines, and you let her burn his legacy to ash without a single word of protest.”
Another agonizing pause follows before his fingers move. He is ill, Cael signs, his eyes narrowing as his shoulders draw tight. Not dying.
Kaera rubs both of her palms over her face. “No, Cael. His health worsens and nothing has eased it. Mother takes advantage of that, and we are starting a war.” She stops, her gaze wavering. “I wonder if father truly made that decision or was it mother alone?”
Cael halts, his hands dropping an inch while her words strike a visible blow to his stature. Father desires a defense, he signs, his pace slowing while he struggles for composure. He agreed to the perimeter security. He would never order an unprovoked slaughter in the valley. Maereth fabricates his verbal approval to manipulate the council.
“Then why did you not expose her?” Kaera cries, her expression a mix of desperation and grief. “If you know it is a lie, you should shout the truth to the advisors. You should make them see that the crown is being manipulated by a tyrant.”
Cael’s gestures sharpen. With what army? Look at the courtyard. Look at the perimeter guards. They bow to her without hesitation. If we turn the council into a battlefield without preparation, we ensure our own executions before Omar Zahraani arrives at the gates.
