Page 24 of Sharpest Court

Her mouth twitched with another one of those approving smiles.

“Lady Alissa has already demonstrated a tendency to run away,” Arun said tightly. “Perhaps she should remain here until the delegation is set to depart for Banarrat.”

“Excellent idea,” Keil said flatly. “Confining Lady Alissa in yet another palace should bode well for her spectral control.” He looked at Rheya, straightening. “I will oversee Lady Alissa at the estate.”

My hackles rose again. “Oversee me?”

“You understand,” Rheya said, “that I don’t want her leaving your grounds.”

“I understand,” Keil said immediately, his confident tone riling me further. Because short of tying me down, he couldn’t possibly guarantee that I would stay in his house like a good little captive. Yet he’d guaranteed it anyway.

“So I am to be a prisoner after all?” I asked, glowering.

“You’re to be a guest of Ansoran royalty,” Rheya corrected. “And a guest is all you shall be.” I tensed as her voice took on a hint of true darkness. “Please remember that you will be entering Banarrat as Erik’s bride. And engaging in any behavior to the contrary, before or during your excursion, will put your task at risk.” She looked between me and Keil with enough meaning that my face flamed.

“Your Majesty,” Keil began, “with all due respect—”

“I do not want your respect. I want your obedience.” Her gaze narrowed, losing its charm. “You have already placed Lady Alissa above your mission before, and she, it seems, has given you a similar importance. I won’t put my empire at risk for the sake of two young people who have only ever made each other vulnerable.” Rheya looked between us with a new, unshakable authority. “This shall come to an end. Or our deal is off. Is that clear, Lady Alissa?”

While Keil had gone tense with displeasure, my own frustration teemed so violently that I bit out, “There is nothing between us to end, Your Majesty.”

Keil flinched.

“I sincerely hope so,” Rheya said. “There is, after all, only one territory that does not bow to the law of the Gallery.”

My skin went cold as I realized what she meant. That while my initiation into the Ansoran Gallery would protect me from every other territory across the ocean . . . it would not protect me from the Ansorans themselves.

Before I could dwell on that caveat, Keil splayed a hand between my shoulder blades and ushered me away. His group swept me along so swiftly that the golden surroundings blurred. Then we emerged into a dewy morning, where the first light was painting honeyed tones across the sky.

Arun’s voice rang out from behind. “Congratulations, Lady Alissa.”

Keil’s fingers hardened, keeping me close. He nodded for the others to go ahead of us.

Looking back, I saw for the first time the gold spires of Rheya’s palace, spearing upward like stalagmites. Wispy clouds parted around the tallest spire, revealing a single orb framed by golden sunburst—a duplicate of the throne room’s ceiling.

Arun sauntered forward, wearing a bland smile that would likely drop the moment we turned away. He held the strap of my saddlebag in his fist. “Over the course of her reign, Her Imperial Majesty has invited only three people into the Ansoran Gallery.” His nostrils flared as he said, with slight bitterness, “You would be the fourth.”

I remembered the missing beads of her brooch, and realized they must have been detached for the people of her choosing.

“I’m honored,” I said dully.

“I’m sure you are.” Arun handed me the saddlebag, then reached into his pocket for Erik’s xerylite ring. Keil stiffened at the sight. “We have every confidence in your ability to sway the general. After all, you did such a fine job with our ambassador.” His voice dropped with the air of a shared secret. “But mind that you don’t do too well. Or else the Banarrati might never let you go.”

Dread skittered inside me as Keil snatched the ring and pressed me forward.

“I advise you not to lower your guard on this side of the sea,” Arun called, making us pause. The formidable spires of Rheya’s palace blazed knife-like behind him as he smiled and said, “You may have been raised in the kingdom of thorns, but you have yet to enter the sharpest court.”

8

The carriage surged forward, and my head knocked back against the padded seat.

Keil slumped, elbows on his knees, the tension gusting out of him with his next exhale. I couldn’t afford a similar respite until the compass was back in my possession.

“We have to go back to the—”

“Did he hurt you?” Keil’s words came out half-strangled, aimed at the floor. “Arun.”

I pushed my hair from my forehead, then dropped my hand when I saw it trembling again. “I’m fine.”