“YOUR Highness, are you mad?” These were the first words out of Satordi’s mouth once they’d reached the north tower.
Princess Amarande had been cushioned by councilors and guards herding her away from the prying eyes of the arena and into the council room. The moment the door was shut, Satordi had turned on her. He didn’t take a seat behind his great table—he was angry enough to stand in front of it, a livid font of static energy beneath his white-and-gold robes. Garbine and Joseba flanked him, jaws working.
“Furious, actually, that you’d trust me to be your queen but not to be present for any of the necessary deliberations, which shouldn’t be necessary in the first place. You refuse to investigate an avenue to change our patriarchal system for the good of Ardenia. You’ve only spent time bartering this country’s future—my future—behind my back.” Amarande stood her ground, Koldo hanging close enough that her broad shoulder armor brushed the princess’s black lace sleeves. “I took my chance and said my piece. And I could have said so much more. It is more than likely one of those people killed my father or placed the order. What they stand to gain is too great for them not to be suspects in the investigation our regent has organized.”
The princess turned to the general, a request for an investigation update ready on her tongue, when Satordi held up a hand.
“Do not change the subject, Your Highness. I realize that you have much to learn, Princess, but make no mistake, your piece was a threat—out in the open, where the stars and every being from here to Indu could hear it. If you’d said such a thing behind closed doors the result would have been more diplomatic.”
“I can’t have a discussion if I’m not invited.”
Satordi’s mouth flattened. “Don’t be a child.”
“I am a child, which is exactly why you believe you can ignore my requests and demands for consent, and simply sell me—and our kingdom—off to the highest bidder.”
“Councilor Satordi,” Koldo started, voice as hard and steady as the Basilican steel in her scabbard. “As regent, I request you include Princess Amarande in the betrothal process. It is a necessary education for our future queen.”
Amarande wondered why Koldo hadn’t inserted herself into the process as well, but perhaps she felt it not her place. They would have to discuss the fault in that logic immediately after the conclusion of Satordi’s current diatribe.
Satordi squeezed his eyes closed. “Very well. Princess, if you’d like to be part of the process, dinner tonight at eight in the red hall.” Satordi nodded to the left of Koldo. “Captain Serville, arrange it that Prince Renard is there at that time.”
That wasn’t what she’d meant at all, and surely that was not what Koldo had in mind, but to push back now really would be a child’s move. She didn’t say no, but she wouldn’t lose an opportunity to force the underlying point.
“That will give me an excellent chance to interrogate him on my father’s death.” Amarande smiled something bloody. “Shall I move on to dessert with King Akil? Myrcell is known to have the highest concentration of hemlock in the Sand and Sky.”
“Princess, your father’s death has nothing to do with whom you wed.” The councilor pinched the bridge of his nose. “We do not have time for this. We simply do not. We have much bigger things to worry about.”
“It has everything to do with it. I do not understand why you keep imploring me to see the bigger picture when this is the picture. He was murdered—what is bigger than the murder of your king? What?”
Satordi’s eyes flew open. “War.”
Amarande’s mouth went dry. “What?”
“Along with the funeral procession, each kingdom brought regiments of thousands to line our borders. Pyrenee, Basilica, Myrcell—all three are ready to strike. Sign the wrong contract and it will not matter how you or your people will live under a new king, but rather how many of them will die.”
“That can’t be true.” This time, Amarande looked to Koldo for confirmation.
The general’s dark eyes held her gaze. “It is true. I’ve seen it myself. Ardenia’s army is the greatest on earth and the chosen protector of the realm. But even our army will be stretched by multiple fronts.”
Stars War. At the doorstep of Ardenia. Again, no one had told her. Not even Koldo.
War was what her father had worked so hard to prevent—he had built every Ardenian into a warrior not for the purpose of war but for the maintenance of peace.
That moment of ultimatum on the funeral dias, once so sweet, faded to ash upon her tongue. Her mouth was so dry she could barely get the next words out, her heart thrumming against the bodice of her mourning gown.
“And if I play the part? Make each of them happy, with enough promises to the losers to send them home with diamonds spilling out of their pockets?”
Satordi shrugged his thin shoulders—the movement was a heavy thing. “It may not be enough to prevent war. Diamonds and a throne under pressure are too great an opportunity for greed to ignore.”