Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(6)
While the nobles chattered and downed their food and drinks, I discreetly drew in a breath, letting the air roll in over my tongue and tasting all the scents in it. The people’s floral perfumes and spicy colognes. The fruity tang of the sangria. The pungent aroma of the blue cheeses that the servants were slicing on the buffet tables along the walls.
I opened my mouth to start the session when one final scent assaulted my senses—hot, jalape?o rage so strong that it made my nose burn with its sudden, sharp intensity.
Most people scoffed at my mutt magic, but my enhanced sense of smell was quite useful in one regard—it let me sense people’s emotions, and very often their intentions. Garlic guilt, ashy heartbreak, minty regret. I could tell what someone was feeling—and often what they were plotting—just by tasting the scents that swirled around them.
I’d had years to hone my mutt magic, so I knew that jalape?o rage meant only one thing.
Someone here wanted to kill me.
Chapter Two
I glanced from one side of the throne room to the other and back again, searching for an immediate, obvious threat.
Lightning sizzling in a magier’s palm. A morph shifting into their other, stronger form. A stone master cracking the ceiling above my head. A mutt yanking their sword free and speeding toward the dais.
But I didn’t see anything like that. I didn’t see anything unusual, so I drew in another breath, tasting all the scents in the air again. The jalape?o rage was as strong as ever, although so many people were milling around that I couldn’t tell who it was coming from.
I was going to find out, though.
Determination filled me, along with more than a little cold rage. Too many people had already died, and I hadn’t survived the royal massacre just to be assassinated in my own throne room three months into my reign.
I kept my pleasant smile fixed on my face, not giving any hint about the danger, and watched the nobles talk and eat. When their first wave of gossip and hunger had been satiated, I lifted my hand, calling for silence. Everyone on the first floor turned toward me, while the nobles on the balcony took their seats.
“Welcome, my esteemed countrymen and -women,” I called out in a loud voice. “You honor me with your presence and most especially with your loyalty.”
“As you honor us,” they said, echoing the traditional response with far less enthusiasm.
Before I could begin the session, one of the nobles broke free of the crowd and strode forward, stopping at the bottom of the dais. Lord Fullman was a short man with thinning blond hair and a round belly that showed just how much he enjoyed his food and drink. As the owner of several fluorestone mines, he also controlled a lot of land, men, and money, and he was someone that I could ill afford to piss off.
Fullman made a gallant bow, sweeping his hand out to the side, then straightened up. “My queen,” he crowed in a booming, confident voice. “Let me be the first to offer my formal congratulations on your reign.”
“Thank you,” I replied, although I was inwardly bracing myself.
Fullman had been at court for years, and he preferred to put his boot on people’s throats and grind them down until they did his bidding, the same way that his miners chipped fluorestone boulders into smaller, more manageable sizes.
He smiled, although his expression took on a sharp edge. “Although I do have a question. What’s this nonsense I hear about you visiting Andvari?”
Annoyance shot through me at Fullman speaking to me as if I were a child rather than his queen, but I kept my face fixed in its pleasant mask. Losing my temper and sniping back at him wouldn’t help matters, although I couldn’t help but sigh on the inside. I hadn’t thought word would spread so quickly about my upcoming trip, but I should have known better. All it took was the softest whisper, and within hours, everyone at court knew about my plans.
Surprised murmurs rippled through the crowd. Not everyone had heard about my upcoming trip, and Fullman smirked at his friends and enemies alike, proud that he had broken the news.
“Yes,” I called out. “King Heinrich has invited me to Glitnir for several days of hospitality and trade talks.”
“And why should you journey so far?” Fullman asked, a sneer creeping into his voice. “Especially so early in your reign? We wouldn’t want you to be seen as bowing down to the Andvarians. That wouldn’t be good for Bellona. Outside influences never are.”
He pointedly looked up at Sullivan, who was still sitting in the top corner of the second-floor balcony. Sullivan stared back at the noble. To anyone else, the magier would seem perfectly calm, but I could smell his peppery anger all the way down here on the dais. It was almost as strong as the jalape?o rage of whomever wanted to kill me.
Sullivan was the bastard son of the Andvarian king, something that no one at this court—or any other—would ever let him forget. From the rumors I’d heard, everyone was gossiping and speculating about why Sullivan was here and especially what his relationship to me really was.
Most people thought that he was my lover, even though we rarely touched in public and had never so much as kissed in private. But I was a queen, and he was a handsome prince who had spent the last few months in my court, so of course there would be rumors about us, even if we did nothing to encourage them.
For once, I wished the gossip were true. At least that way I would have gotten a little bit of pleasure out of the situation. My gaze traced over Sullivan’s broad, muscled shoulders. Quite a lot of pleasure.