Chey paced the master suite, fingertips rubbing relentless circles over her forehead. Her stomach burned with turmoil and fury, and her mind buzzed with the impossible reality that a coup might already be underway. She had to take action, had to prepare for another escalation in the chess match. All it would take was one or two well-placed assassinations for a power shift to occur.

And her name was at the top of the kill list.

She guessed Raune to be target number two. He was the most loyal, a sure bet for death.

Next would be any councilmen who did not switch allegiance to the other side, although she wasn’t positive that would save them.

Refusing to be cowed and made to feel vulnerable because she was pregnant, Chey organized a mental list of the most important things for survival: secure the children, keep a weapon handy at all times, and try to figure out the enemy’s next step. They’d almost put her into checkmate by sending the citizens into a whiteout, obliterating what would have amounted to a small standing army that might have helped protect her from a coup.

That’s how you know for sure you’re right about a takeover. They’re getting rid of their opponents, piece by piece, until you have no other choice but to surrender. The thoughts chased themselves around Chey’s mind as she paced. A clearer picture was beginning to emerge of stealth maneuvers and possible future moves.

The next logical step in the game was her assassination.

With her out of the way, the councilmen could force the rest of her personal guard to their side, or take them out altogether.

And what of her children? They were the rightful heirs to the throne. Surely the advisors would not go so far as to hurt them.

Helina. The former queen would shape and mold Elias into the man she wanted him to be. She would tweak his mind and rule the country by proxy until her death. This was a way for her to maintain an heir the people expected to see, all while regaining control of a throne she’d lost years ago with the death of her husband.

That was why Helina had gone behind her back and visited Elias on the sly. The witch had already started sinking her hooks into his impressionable mind, priming him for what was to come.

Breaking stride, Chey stalked through the suite into Sander’s office, bringing along a guttering candle for light. The masculine overtones and big, broad desk brought memories of her husband rushing in. Chey could almost see him there, hunched over a stack of paperwork, absorbed with the king’s business. She imagined she caught the scent of his favorite cologne, which was just wishful thinking. Sander had been gone for weeks. The smell was only in her mind.

Setting the candle on the desk, she stepped around the edge to the back. Sander would do the same thing she was doing, Chey thought. Work the problem, find solutions.

Stay alive.

Moving Sander’s leather chair, Chey crouched near the desk and reached for the edge of a decorative panel located inside the space reserved for Sander’s long legs. She pried at the edge until the hidden door gave way, swinging outward on silent hinges. Reaching inside the cubby, she pulled out one gun safe, and then another. The heavy boxes thudded on the stone floor. With effort, Chey hefted each one to the desktop and set them down with the combination wheel facing the light.

In minutes she had both weapons checked and loaded. One was smaller, easy to conceal; the other standard size. After returning the boxes to the hiding place, Chey took both guns back to her desk. She left the standard-sized weapon in her locked top drawer, and took the other into the closet. Among her belongings were several holsters, items Sander had insisted she learn how to wear and use. Donning a shoulder holster, she fit the smaller gun into a sheath and pulled a thick, crocheted sweater from a hanger. It covered the holster, and no one would think anything about her wearing the extra layer of clothing thanks to the wicked chill pervading most of the castle.

Just as she stepped into the main area of the bedroom, a series of sharp knocks sounded on the door.

Pausing, Chey stared across the room. She might already be too late. That knock meant business. Its urgency said, open the door, or I’m coming in.

Pulling the gun from the holster, Chey advanced on the door and opened it abruptly. She hid the weapon behind her flank, prepared to see a contingent of guards ready to haul her from the room, but instead found herself face-to-face with Urmas.

Several tense seconds passed as they stared at each other.

“What is it?” Chey asked warily. She refused to hide her distrust or ignore the fact that things in the castle had changed dramatically in the last ten hours or so.

“May I come in?” Urmas asked.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

Unable to decipher his mood or intent, Chey thought hard about the wisdom of letting Urmas into the suite. She didn’t know if he was armed, and although he usually wasn’t, these were strange circumstances and things could have changed. He might be attempting to catch her off guard by the fact he was alone, seemingly harmless.

Stepping back, Chey swung the door wide. She eyed him with open suspicion, her hand moving up to rest alongside her thigh so that the gun was in plain sight.

“Your High—” Urmas stepped inside, halting when he saw the weapon. His gaze darted back to her face. “Has it come to that, then?”

“Look, I’m way beyond games at this point. We both know what’s going on here. What I don’t know is whose side you’re on. It’s always been their side, and with Sander gone, I’m easy prey, right? So maybe the pro-Helina councilmen sent you up here to ‘talk some sense’ into me. Or to catch me off guard and overpower me, because you’re not typically the one to get physical. So, yes, Urmas, it’s come to that.” Chey stood her ground, chin lifted defiantly. She minced no words, made no apologies for her doubt of his loyalty.

Urmas flashed his palms in a traditional sign of surrender. He seemed genuinely taken aback.

Before he could say a word, Chey cut him off. “Don’t play the innocent. I’m just pissed off enough to take serious action after you and the others sent helpless citizens into a blizzard. So state your intent plainly and spare me the runaround.”

Urmas’s hands lowered slowly to his sides. He hadn’t shaved in days, which gave his angular features a somewhat roguish appearance. “I had nothing to do with that. Please believe me.”

“I don’t. My circumstances demand that I take every precaution and trust only those I’m sure will not betray me. Your name does not fall on that list.” She paused to take a breath, then said, “I repeat, what do you want?”

Appearing to fight through his shock, Urmas said, “I came up here to ask you what you wanted to do. About the situation. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“And yet you couldn’t do enough for Helina when she arrived. Did you think I missed that look you shot me while you were trying to help her? Also, I had Wynn give you a list of rules regarding Helina, and the very first thing on it was that she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near my children. Funny, Helina managed to do just that. Did you not pass the list to the other employees, or did you disregard it altogether?”

“Your Highness—”

“Well? Did you?” Relentless, Chey gave Urmas little wiggle room to defend himself.

“No. I did not disregard the list. I had meetings with the staff and announced your preferences. Whoever arranged the contact between Helina and Elias is unknown to me. One of the staff taking care of the children would be my guess, since they have the easiest access. Ingel, perhaps,” Urmas said.

Ingel had been with the Ahtissaris for years. From far back in Aksel and Helina’s reign. It was possible the woman—like Urmas—had deferred to the old sovereign the second Helina showed her face in the castle. Sometimes those bonds were difficult, if not impossible, to break. Especially if it appeared that an overthrow might occur.

Into the silence, Urmas said, “What do you plan to do?” His gaze dropped pointedly to the gun.

“My job. Which is to protect the sovereignty of the kingdom,” Chey said.

“And that means?” Urmas licked his lips, glancing between the gun and Chey’s eyes.

“It means I’m going to ask you to step into the hall and make your way to Sander’s office,” Chey replied. Sander had his smaller office in the suite and another larger office down the hallway.

Urmas arched his brows. For the first time, his eyes narrowed to slits. “You mean to lock me in? Keep me a prisoner like you’re keeping the former queen?”

“Prisoner is a harsh word. Helina deserves it. Right now, I have to segregate myself from people I’m not sure will back me in a coup. And it’s coming. I know it is.” Chey studied Urmas’s eyes, looking for a telltale sign that would give his allegiance to Helina away. His shoulders straightened, as if affronted by the suggestion that he wouldn’t fall on the side of the current king and queen.

Urmas lowered his voice. “Chey, think about what you’re doing. If you take this rather aggressive step, there’s no going back. You’ll be forced to follow through. And you can’t undo the damage on the other side.”

“Oh, I intend on following through. You can take that to the bank. If by damage you mean your position as liaison—don’t worry. I think it’s long past time we replaced you with someone we know we can trust. So don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Sander’s office. Now.” She never looked away from his eyes. The fact that he’d used her first name without prompting, in such a coercive, intimate way, unnerved Chey a little.

Urmas stared, holding her gaze. He did not move, not immediately.

Here we go. He’s going to make a move, test my resolve with the gun. I’m going to have to shoot him.

How had it come to this? How had their lives become so twisted and dark that she stood here now, gun in hand, prepared to pull the trigger if Urmas so much as flinched the wrong way? The entire situation seemed surreal in her head, like she might wake up from a dream any moment. Time slowed to an agonizing crawl as they stared each other down, waiting for the other to move.

To do something.

With a sudden lift, Urmas raised his hands, palms out.

Chey twitched but didn’t aim the weapon. As Urmas turned to exit the suite, Chey picked up a small flashlight from the desk as well as a set of keys, and fell in at his flank, leaving plenty of space for reaction should he decide to surprise her in the gloomy hallway.

“You can’t keep me in here forever. I don’t even have water,” Urmas said when he crossed the threshold into Sander’s office.

The flashlight beam swept beyond Urmas, then landed on his face when he turned toward her. “There are candles in the cupboards below the bookcase,” Chey said. “Use those at your discretion. There should be matches with them. I’ll have someone bring you something to eat in the morning.”

“For the record, I think you’re making a big mistake, Your Highness,” Urmas said.

“Then I’ll pay the consequences later. But right now, this seems like my only option.” After locking Urmas in Sander’s office, Chey walked back down the hall, breathing easier now that the confrontation was over. She slid the keys into the pocket of her sweater for safe keeping.

Nearing the master suite, Chey recognized Raune’s broad shoulders as he stood before the door. He turned, body tensing as if expecting her to be an adversary on attack. Easing once he realized who she was, Raune inclined his head in greeting.

“Your Highness,” he said.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I—”

“What’s in your hand?” he asked, narrowing his gaze.

“A gun, Raune. I’ve just locked Urmas in Sander’s formal office because I suspected him of coming up here to subdue me. Or something of the sort.” She didn’t waste another second to lay out her plan. Ignoring Raune’s surprise, she said, “I want Carita to get the kids from Ingel and bring them up here. They’ll be staying close to me at all times until this gets resolved.”

“What are you planning?” Raune asked.

“I believe a coup is underway. This means I trust about five people in this entire castle with my life. Maybe less. I want my children protected at all times while you and whichever guards you trust most round up the councilmen loyal to Helina and secure them in a room away from the former queen.” Chey was on a course she could not now easily deviate from. In her gut, these felt like the right steps, the ones she needed to take to survive.

To keep her children safe and out of the hands of Helina.

And, just as importantly, protect the sovereignty of Sander’s legacy.