Page 34 of The Witch Queen

“The princess is too modest,” Margaret says with a laugh. “She’s quite a skilled archer. And her tutors are very pleased with her progress in her lessons. We couldn’t be prouder of her. I’m sure Callen would say the same if he were here. Wouldn’t he, Blodwyn?”

At long last, the princess’s ink-dark eyes meet mine. “Yes. I’d be very interested to hear what my father would say if he were able.”

Malum swells behind my sternum.

“We should eat,” I say, signaling to the servants.

The sooner this night is over, the better. But Margaret places a hand on my arm. It takes all my self-control not to stab her with my fork.

“Before we begin, I did hope to announce our news?” she asks. “And would you mind terribly ifIdid the honor?”

I’m tempted to refuse her request simply for the pleasure of doing so. But I have to tread carefully. Gritting my teeth, I motion for her to proceed. A hush falls over the hall as Margaret pushes back from the table and raises her hands for silence.

“It’s such a pleasure to be among you all again after too long an absence,” she begins.

“Thepleasureis ours, Your Grace!” Weston calls. Wine splashes as he hoists his glass into the air. Applause breaks out, along with shouts of agreement.

They were never so enthusiastic about you,that voice observes.

“How kind. And if I recall how swiftly rumors travel in this court, most of you have already heard the news.” Margaret winks conspiratorially. Several laugh. “But allow me to make it official: My niece, the Princess Blodwyn, has put herself forward for Braxos’s Trials, thereby claiming her right to Riven’s throne. Blodwyn, my dear, rise and state your intention.”

The princess stands. This time, the court’s reaction is far more subdued. A current of whispers runs beneath the smattering of applause and I notice a few courtiers trade skeptical expressions. Perhaps Blodwyn senses the shift as well, for her shoulders bow slightly inward. For an instant, she appears more like the young girl I used to know—fragile and alone.

“I—” she begins.

“I challenge the princess!”

All heads swivel to the back of the room, where a young man steps out from among the crowd. He’s probably not much older than Blodwyn, with light brown skin, a strong jaw, and black hair that is slightly unkempt. His brown eyes gleam in the torchlight.

“What did you say?” Margaret demands.

“I challenge the princess,” the young man repeats, firmer this time. “I invoke my right to join the trials.”

Jointhe trials? Callen never mentioned this. I look to Joan, but she just shakes her head, as confused as I am.

“What do you mean, yourright?” I ask.

“He doesn’t have one,” Margaret says, irritated.

“Actually, I think you’ll find that he does.”

Shocked gasps ricochet around the hall as another courtier pushes to the front. My grip tightens on the arms of my chair. Becausethisman I recognize. He was just at the council meeting. His falcon-like eyes gleam.

“Lord Warbeck,” I say, “what’s the meaning of this?”

“Majesty.” He bows, but it’s shallower than it should be. And I detect the hint of a smirk on his lips. “May I present my son, Gavin. As he said, he’s here to compete for the throne, as is permitted by the original terms of Braxos’s Trials.”

“What is he talking about?” Blodwyn asks. “The terms don’t say that, do they?”

“No,” Margaret insists. “Someone please remind this man of his place.”

“I’m afraid he’s correct, Your Grace.” Master Parnell rises from his seat. “The terms of the trials have not altered since Braxos’s time. Any man in the realm may challenge the claimant.”

My blood runs cold, finally comprehending Warbeck’s ploy. I picture him scouring texts in the library until he has discovered this particular loophole. A way for him to snatch everything away from me. I have been blindsided—again.

A fool,that voice whispers.A failure.

“How interesting,” Margaret continues, her attention pinned on Warbeck’s son. “But tell me, even if you win, how do you plan to handle Rycinthia? Because it certainly won’t be withmyarmy.”