Caiman slipped his arms into his black coat, adjusting the collar before pulling his black hair back in its queue. “I hate to tell you this, but they’ve been judging you since the moment you arrived. This is simply another chance to remind them how brilliant you truly are.”
I had trained for this. Spent summer days inside hunched over books on foreign policy and Vellanian law instead of out playing with my friends. Evenings spent with tutors and weekends learning how to walk, speak, and act at court.
Caiman’s long strides carried him across the room to where our gold crowns waited on matching velvet displays. He withdrew my crown and set it on my unbound hair. I felt its weight—the weight of a kingdom—in my soul.
You are ready.
My husband scowled down at his own crown. “It was never supposed to be mine.”
“But itisyours.” I lifted the crown and placed it where it belonged, on his head. “You deserve to wear this crown.”
When he withdrew his gloves from his coat pocket, I caught his fingers, bringing his scarred hands to my lips. “Don’t hide them anymore. These scars are a reminder of all you’ve endured in order to become the man you are today. They are beautiful.”
Although he didn’t appear convinced, when we left the room, the gloves remained on the unmade bed.
* * *
By the time we made it to the council chambers, the other counsellors were already seated. The moment we set foot inside, they shot to their feet. I’d expected frowns and trepidation, but all I saw were smiles from the men who would assist us in ruling this country.
Caiman beamed, withdrawing the empty chair to the right of his throne at the table’s head. I thanked him, easing onto the wooden seat. Across from me, Kerrington’s eyes narrowed.
“Before we begin,” Caiman said, settling onto his seat, “I would like to welcome the newest member of the council, my wife and Vellana’s queen, her royal highness Queen Roisin Newland Howard.”
Riotous cheers and roaring applause beat in time with my pounding heart. Everyone appeared genuinely happy to have me, a fae—a woman—join their ranks. Everyone except Lord Kerrington. His icy glare left my palms damp. I scrubbed them against my skirt, determined not to let him unsettle me. I deserved a place at this table. It may take some time, but I would prove it to him and anyone else who doubted it.
Caiman must’ve noticed my discomfort. His smile slipped as he directed a scowl at the young Lord. “Is there a problem, Kerrington?”
“You make me sick.”
Lord Devon reached for his son’s arm. Kerrington jerked free, his chair scraping the tiles. “Wearing a crown that doesn’t belong to you. Sitting on a stolen throne. Sleeping with your brother’s wife.”
My pulse thrummed in my ears.
Kerrington shot to his feet, his leg colliding with the table, rattling the ink wells on top. “Do you have any idea what your traitorous king has done?”
“Son, please,” Lord Devon begged.
“It’s his fault Alrec is dead.” Kerrington leveled a shaking finger at Caiman. “It’s all his bloody fault! And you’re all just sitting here as if nothing is amiss. As if your true king wasn’t murdered by this bloody traitor!”
Caiman’s new guard caught Kerrington by the arm, dragging him toward the door. “You forget that I was your brother’s closest mate,” he bellowed. “He told me everything you did! How you forced him to go to Southbay. How you said to start the war!”
The color leeched from Caiman’s face, making his wide eyes seem darker.
“That’s not true,” I insisted. It couldn’t be true. Could it?
Caiman said nothing to defend himself. Why wasn’t he denying it? Setting the record straight for all the men gaping toward the throne?
I clutched my husband’s arm. “Caiman, tell them it’s not true.”
His shoulders fell, and he withdrew from my grasp. “Alrec and I argued after the council meeting, the day after our father fell ill. I said he was a coward for sending his people off to fight in a war that could be avoided while he hid in the castle. He . . .” Caiman scrubbed a hand down his ashen face. “He took it as a challenge.”
Lord Devon and the other counsellors started speaking all at once, each one throwing around questions, muttering curses. All I could do was stare at the man I’d married, a man so full of hate that he would goad his own brother into going to war.
I shoved away from the table and stumbled out of the room, colliding with a manservant holding a tea service tray in the hallway. The tray and teacups flew through the air, shattering on the marble tiles. I kept running from the lies, searching for safety and silence.
If Caiman hadn’t fought with Alrec, he would still be alive.
I would be married to him.