CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The procession goes well, better than even Elvar dared hope, or so I assume from the look of joy on his face.
People have flooded the streets to watch us. Elvar and I are in a chariot. We’ve both had to wear our armored vests and vambraces in case someone lashes out, but no one seems angry. They chant my name, beaming. They throw paper ships shaped like Titania into the air. And I, who grew up in obscurity, find it enormously uncomfortable to be celebrated.
I smile and wave anyway. I am as responsible for these people as any other Rey, and they deserve my courtesy no matter how I feel about standing at my uncle’s side.
Elvar touches my shoulder. “Look.”
He can’t see whatever it is himself, but his face is bright with real pleasure. I follow the line of his pointing finger to a statue. It’s a man carved out of smooth, pale stone. He has a crown on his head, a sword by his side, and a shield across his other arm. He’s on a stone plinth, and he looks like he’s guarding the city.
“Cassel,” says Elvar. “Your father. He was a good king. He always wanted what was best for Kali.” Elvar’s smile grows. “It seems only yesterday that we were boys, brash and brave.”
I turn away from my father’s face and look into Elvar’s. There’s no mistaking the expression there.
“You loved my father very much,” I say, shocked.
“Of course. He was my dearest friend.”
“But he took your throne!”
“Not at all,” says Elvar. “He had about as much choice as I did. Our mother and her war council decided he would be better suited to the throne than I, and that was that. He tried to refuse, but they persuaded him to put Kali’s needs first.”
I’m too stunned by his steadfast loyalty and affection to reply immediately. I always believed his bitterness at what his mother did to him had twisted his feelings for my father into something black and sinister, but I was wrong. There was love and warmth in my uncle yesterday, when he touched my face and almost wept because I have my father’s nose, and there’s love and warmth in him now.
“Maybe you could tell me stories about him,” I hear myself say.
Elvar’s expression softens. “I’d like that very much.”
At the end of the procession, back at the palace, a group of elders and generals is waiting for us. Everyone is thrilled with the results of our trip, and I hear Elvar speaking excitedly to some of the elders. I want to slip away, unnoticed, but that’s easier said than done. I’ve barely taken two steps in the direction of the door when a bony hand wraps itself around my elbow.
“Ez-may,” says the old queen, whisking me away from the door, but also away from the other elders, “Come and talk to an old crone for a moment or two.”
This is quite frankly the last thing I want to do given my great-grandmother’s fondness for thorny, scorching truths, but it wasn’t a request, and I’m not inclined to thwart her at the moment. I’d rather have her as an ally than an enemy.
“I’ve just had a chat with Rickard,” she says, and I tense, “And it left me with the impression that you have no desire to see your brothers killed in a war.”
“Of course not.”
“Excellent,” she says and pats my hand. At least, I think it’s supposed to be a pat, but it feels more like claws digging into my skin. “Then you’ll be of great help to me.”
I stare at her. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“I have no wish to see my grandson and great-grandsons kill each other, and who knows how many others, in a futile war.”
“I gathered that much, Grandmother. The part I don’t understand is how I can help you avoid that.”
She steers me farther away from the others. “What I need, my dear, is a vote I can rely on. And your arrival couldn’t have come at a better time.”
“What kind of vote?”
“A vote on the war council.”
My bewilderment grows. “How can I vote on the war council? I’m not on it.”
“You could be.”
Wait, what? I stop walking and face her. “You want to put me on the war council of Kali?”
“Max is on it. Why can’t you be, too?”
“But he’s a ruler—”
She brushes my protest aside. “So? As one of Elvar’s possible heirs, you have an equally valid claim to a place on the war council.”
So this is why she brought up the subject of heirs at dinner: my great-grandmother was planting seeds that she fully intends to harvest.
“If you truly want to keep this family safe,” she says, “the war council is the best place for you.”
This is the perfect way to find out information I would otherwise have no access to, but I want to make sure I truly know what she’s asking of me first. “And if you do get me a place on the council, what then?”
“You will sit in on our discussions whenever possible. And you will vote the same way I do on every issue. You needn’t look so shocked,” she goes on, with a chuckle. “Based on your sentiments so far, you’ll likely agree with me on most issues anyway.”
“And when I disagree? Do I still vote your way?”
“It’s hardly a great deal to ask, is it? You may find this difficult to believe because I cursed your mother, but my only goal is to protect this family. Both sides of it. At the moment, that means putting a stop to the war that’s coming. There are twelve members of the war council, including the king. Rickard and I can be relied upon to vote against aggressive strategies. Four others tend to agree with us, but are less invested and therefore less reliable. Selwyn, as you may have already guessed, always votes in favor of aggression against Alexi. Max often votes with Selwyn and the other three members tend to follow Max’s lead. Elvar, who is the twelfth vote and also has the final say, can usually be made to see reason and abstain from open war. He tends to listen to Rickard or me.”
I see where this is going. “But you’re worried that as he grows more afraid of whatever Alexi is planning, he’ll be more likely to vote with Lord Selwyn. The king’s final say could ignite war. You want to avoid putting him in that position. You want another sure vote.”
“Good girl,” says the old queen.
“Isn’t Guinne on the war council?”
“Guinne could have had a seat on the war council, but she didn’t want it. She prefers to devote her time to the palace, the city, and a number of charitable works. She tends to side with Selwyn, so it’s probably just as well.” Cassela smiles, canines showing. “So you see why you’ll be so very helpful to me.”
I look her in the eye and smile back. “I think you’ll be very helpful to me, too, Grandmother. So yes, by all means, let’s use each other.”
Her eyes twinkle wickedly. “Welcome to Kali, Ez-may. I think you’ll fit right in.”