THIRTEEN

AS KAI AND I EXITED THE ARENA’S main doors, stone-faced guards bowed on either side.

“Princess Ruby, King Arkanus requests your presence in his council chambers at your earliest convenience.”

Hmph. My earliest convenience meant “immediately” and we all knew it.

“And Prince Kai?” I asked.

The guard shook his head. “He is to make himself comfortable in the sitting room adjacent to the throne room, Your Highness.” He bowed again.

I raised my brows at Kai. “It looks like you’re not invited. I’ll have to fill you in later.”

“I’m not exactly broken up to miss it,” he said with a heavy-lidded gaze. “Actually, I can’t imagine anything more guaranteed to cause boredom.”

“Yes, well. Assuming they don’t execute me. That won’t be boring.”

Kai took my elbow and drew me away from the guards, who stood waiting respectfully.

“I’ll have to get used to all this deference from guards,” I muttered. “I’m accustomed to being dragged around and insulted.”

“Ruby,” Kai said, soft but firm, catching me in the pull of his eyes, like stray sunbeams. His hands came to my shoulders. “I understand why you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!” I insisted with a glare.

He wrapped his hands around mine, which were balled into fists, raising them between us as evidence.

“Maybe a tiny bit.”

He kept my hands in his, his voice low and intense. “Listen to me. You are a princess, the heir to the venerable throne of Sudesia. You are Queen Nalani’s niece, officially recognized by the Fire Court. There is a kingdom full of subjects who would lay down their lives for you. One of them stands before you,” he said gruffly, squeezing my fists lightly.

My throat grew tight, my eyes filling with unwanted moisture. I blinked rapidly. The last thing I needed was to be leaking tears as I faced the Frost Court. “I get it, Kai. What’s your point?”

“I know that you came here as a prisoner slated for death. I know that you were spat upon and reviled and insulted at every turn. I know that if it were up to the Blue Legion, you would be treated so again.”

I chuckled weakly. “A moment ago, I had the silly notion that your eyes were like sunshine. How misleading. Your words are full of gloom.”

“Let me finish. I know that’s how things used to be. But you have power now. You are a princess, with the bearing of a princess—yes! You do have it, even if you don’t realize it. I noticed it as soon as I first saw you.” His eyes lit with amusement. “Even with powdered sugar sprinkled all over your gown.”

My cheeks heated, but I laughed. “You would remind me about that.”

“I want to remind you who you are. Your upbringing may have been humble, but there is steel in your backbone. Show the Frost Court that you own your birthright. When you speak to them, you speak on behalf of Sudesia. You bow to no one.”

I gave his hands a squeeze. When I let go, I stood a little taller than I had before. “I’ll make you proud.”

“You could do nothing else, Princess.”

As I entered the council chambers, a dozen of the most powerful members of the Frost Court—some of whom I’d just seen in the arena—watched with varying degrees of suspicion. Apparently a day of public execution had warranted their best finery. Brushed velvet, colorful silks, snowy furs, and icy jewels sparkled around the long wooden table.

Standing at the head of the table, their king blended in perfectly. Arcus had taken the time to change from his travel clothes into a sapphire doublet with silver hooks and silver threads that matched the steel band spanning his brow. Only Brother Thistle, seated at Arcus’s right, broke the pattern of sartorial opulence by wearing his coarse brown monk’s robes.

Despite the variety in clothing, there was an eerie conformity to their eye colors—all cool shades, from pale ice to violet.

I squared my shoulders to cover the fact that I felt shabby and unkempt by comparison. I smelled of horse and travel sweat. My dove-gray cloak had an obvious tear, and my woolen gown was creased. My braid had loosened, and though I’d finger-combed my hair as best I could, it hung like a nebulous cloud of smoke over my shoulders.

But Kai had reminded me there was steel in my backbone, and before this meeting was over, the whole court would know it.

“Please be seated, Princess Ruby.” Arcus motioned to an empty seat halfway down the table. His expression gave nothing away. I moved without comment to the high-backed wooden chair, folding my hands in my lap.

He took his seat, his smooth silver crown glinting. “I’ve called this meeting to discuss a matter of the greatest urgency.”

Several people spoke at once.

He held up a silencing hand. “I’m sure you have questions. I will answer them all.”

Arcus looked at me, and I stared back. I’d never seen his eyes so cold, not even when he’d first taken me from the prison when he was scared of my fire. I’d expected him to shout and rail at me at the first opportunity. I would have preferred that to the barren wasteland of his expression. My knees shook under the table, my blood seeming to slow in my veins. Had I done something unforgivable when I’d gone against him? Was this something we could never come back from?

He broke the stare and glanced around the table again. “But first, Princess Ruby, niece of Queen Nalani of the Fire Court, has something important to say.”

I kept staring until he lifted his brows with a waiting air. He wanted me to speak first? Gratitude fluttered through me, and a rush of relief. This was the opportunity I needed, and he was giving me a chance to make the most of it. He wouldn’t do that if I’d completely lost his trust. And there was no better time to persuade the court of the veracity of the threat of the Minax, right when the proof was fresh in their minds.

Confidence restored, I took a breath and prepared to speak.

Before I could get a word out, an older courtier pushed up from her chair. “Your Majesty,” she said, “surely this is asking too much. First, you inform us this girl is Sudesian royalty, and now you allow her into the Frost Court’s private council chambers? That alone…” She shook her head angrily. “Do you truly expect us to endure her excuses for what we all witnessed in the arena?”

“I expect you to listen, Lady Gedda,” Arcus said, each word carefully enunciated in a courteous but commanding voice that made everyone sit up a little straighter. “Without interruption.”

Silence fell. Lady Gedda sat.

With a nod to Arcus, I took a breath and stood. “You’ve all heard of Eurus’s curse—the shadow creatures that can seep under your skin, turning you to violence and murder. I know you’ve been told that legends of the Minax are merely that—tales to scare children. I’m here to tell you those stories are true. I showed you proof in the arena. After not only seeing but feeling the evidence of the Minax’s presence for yourselves, you can no longer deny the reality. These creatures crave war and bloodshed. They cause death and destruction. If they possess you, you cannot resist it. You will do whatever it instructs you to do, even if it tells you to turn on your own family.” Recalling my nightmare of Anda and Gyda, I swallowed. “It will force you to kill your loved ones first—even your own children—the better to bring on grief and despair.” There were shocked inhalations. “And not only that, it drains your life force as it possesses you. When you die, a few days or weeks later, it will abandon your corpse and search out its next host.”

My gaze ranged around the table, meeting every eye in turn. It was hard to tell whether they believed me, but they were definitely listening.

“We have received word the prison that holds these creatures is under attack. If they escape, they will devour our minds and discard us, all of us, until no one is left. I know this is hard to understand and even harder to believe, which is why I needed to show you. You saw the thing for yourself. You felt it. That was only a glimpse of what the Minax can do. And there are thousands of them.”

A few of the courtiers looked furious, but more appeared terrified. I left them with a final thought.

“No rivalry with another kingdom can possibly be more important than defeating this threat. Either you join forces with the Sudesians, or we are lost. It’s that simple.”

Arcus’s intense stare moved around the table. “You may now ask questions. One at a time, please. Lord Auber?”

A young lord stood, anger on his sallow face. “We don’t know what we saw or felt. Perhaps we were victims of a charlatan adept at creating illusions.” He pinned me with a dark blue stare.

I straightened my spine. “I did not deceive you in any way. This threat is real. If this council ignores it, you assure your own destruction.”

“If the things are imprisoned,” Lady Gedda said, “then how did you”—she waved her hand in a circle—“procure one for your demonstration?”

“Two of the Minax were hidden in the throne of Fors and the throne of Sud. When the thrones were destroyed, the two were released and one survived.” I lifted my chin. I saw no way around sharing the truth. “I have the unique ability to hold the creature without the risk of death. It resides… in me, under my control, which is why I knew I could demonstrate the threat without risking you or your people.”

“First you say no one can survive its possession,” Lord Auber grated. “Now you say that only you can. How convenient.”

“I assure you it is convenient,” I said grimly, mentally subduing the Minax as it stirred at the rising tension. “For you. If I didn’t have this ability, the Minax would still be spilling blood across your kingdom, as it did only a few months ago. All those gruesome murders your constables couldn’t understand or prevent? The Minax was hopping from host to host, causing a killing spree. Now I’m keeping you safe.”

“If we can’t kill the creatures,” a middle-aged lady asked, her periwinkle eyes serious, “what can we do?”

“We can keep the prison’s Gate from falling,” I answered. “King Arkanus and I have a plan to do that. But if the worst happens and the Minax do escape, we need as many Frostblood warriors as possible at the Gate with us. Together with Firebloods, they can create frostfire, the only thing that will weaken the creatures.”

“Frostfire is a myth!” a bearded lord said, crossing his arms. “I’m finished with this nonsense.”

“I don’t believe any of this,” Lady Gedda agreed. “These threats are meant to scare us and lead us into an alliance we would never consider otherwise.”

With a frustrated breath, I instinctively looked to Arcus to get his courtiers back in line. He gave me an expectant look in return: Finish what you started.

“Why don’t you believe it?” I asked. “Because you don’t want to? If you require a further demonstration of the Minax’s capabilities, I’d be happy to give you one.”

“Are you threatening me?” Lady Gedda asked, her delicate nostrils flaring.

“No,” I replied calmly. “The threat exists. I’m merely warning you of it.”

A young lord with ginger hair who hadn’t spoken yet leaned in and spoke in urgent tones. “I do believe this. We all saw and felt the creature in the arena. Denying it won’t make it go away.”

Tension rippled along the table.

Lady Gedda asked, “How do we know the Fire Queen will agree to fight alongside us?”

“I am her niece,” I replied. “And Prince Kai, who has traveled here with me, is her official proxy, able to sign any agreement on behalf of our queen.”

“And he has my word to back him up,” Arcus added sternly. “I traveled to Sudesia to meet with Queen Nalani myself. I have her oath that she will hold to our alliance.”

“And you… you believe in this threat, Your Majesty?” Lord Auber asked.

“I’ve seen the Minax myself.” He met their eyes, each in turn. “It is a threat beyond anything we have ever faced, and it is coming for us. An alliance is our only chance for survival.”

A subtle shift took place, a change in air pressure. Whether it was the demonstration or my warnings or Arcus’s final words—or a combination of the three—that had tipped the balance, it didn’t really matter. The council was starting to believe.

They asked about the Minax’s capabilities, the making of frostfire, and the alliance with Sudesia. I answered to the best of my ability, deferring to Arcus when the questions involved treaties or Tempesian law. It went on so long that I started to lose hope, but Arcus remained perfectly calm. Perhaps council meetings were always this fraught with tension and disagreement.

“Well, I, for one, am convinced that action is necessary,” said Lady Gedda, surprising me with her change of heart. “We’ve discussed this long enough. Are we ready to vote?”

Arcus said, “Princess Ruby, if you don’t mind stepping out for a few minutes, the council will—”

The door crashed open and a woman shrieked, “Where is the Fireblood?”