Ash Princess (Ash Princess Trilogy #1)(95)
I can see him look at the situation from every point of view in the matter of a few seconds before he makes a decision, getting to his feet and bracing his hands on the table in front of him, looking beleaguered and exhausted.
“I said that’s enough, Father,” he says, loud enough now for the entire room to hear him. “This is not a night to celebrate a victory, not with so many of my men fallen in Vecturia.”
If the Kaiser could execute someone with his gaze alone, S?ren would be dead in seconds, but he says nothing.
“Instead,” S?ren says, tearing his eyes away from his father and staring out at the other courtiers, “tonight is a night of mourning and solemnity for those we lost in a battle we should never have entered. It was a vain mission; we had no reason to attack Vecturia, and hundreds of Kalovaxian men lost their lives for it.”
Silence follows S?ren’s proclamation, stretching out for what feels like an eternity before a bald man seated at the other end of the banquet table gets to his feet. I recognize him from my last punishment; he’s one of the courtiers who lost a son in Vecturia.
“Hear, hear,” he calls, raising his wine goblet.
One by one, more men and women join him, raising their goblets toward S?ren with shouts of agreement and solemn calls for remembering Vecturia. Before long, the vast majority of the hall has stood for him, and even those who remain seated look bewildered and uncertain.
The Kaiser’s grip on my knee goes slack as he looks around the hall, glare nearly lethal. When he realizes he’s outnumbered, he slowly rises from his chair, picking up his own goblet.
“Well said, my son,” he says, and though he flashes a smile at S?ren, the edges of it are razor sharp. “I propose a moment of silence for those who fell in Vecturia. Those men died for honor and they will receive an honored welcome from their ancestors.”
Once the dam inside S?ren has broken, though, there is no walling it up again.
“Those men didn’t die for honor. They died for greed,” he says through gritted teeth, and I know he’s thinking not only of his men, but of his mother. He’s not foolish enough to accuse the Kaiser of murder in front of his entire court, though.
The Kaiser’s mouth thins into a line. “Well, perhaps next time I will seek your opinion, S?ren, before I make a decision for my people.”
“Perhaps you should,” S?ren replies. “But as I said, this is not a night for celebration. We’ll take your moment of silence and then I propose we end the night early to honor the dead.”
The Kaiser is as tense as a bow stretched taut enough to break. “I believe that would be for the best,” he allows.
Suddenly I wonder if I won’t have to frame the Kaiser for murdering S?ren, if he’ll just do it himself. But the Kaiser is a man slow to action and I don’t have the time to wait.
We bow our heads for the moment of silence. After a few seconds, I look up to find S?ren watching me. Everyone around us has their eyes closed, so I mouth, “Midnight tonight.” His gaze is heavy on mine as he nods once before bowing his head again.
I WALK BACK TO MY ROOMS alone after the banquet, though I’m sure everyone I pass assumes my Shadows are nearby. That’s the good thing about having guards prized for their skill at going unnoticed—no one misses them when they aren’t around.
The pounding of my heart thunders through my body, but I’m not sure if it’s caused by excitement or panic or dread or some combination of the three. Despite the chill in the air, my skin feels clammy, and my sweat mixes with the ash flakes from my crown, causing it to streak down my face. With shaking hands, I wipe it off, my palms coming away black.
It’s almost over, I tell myself. Almost. But no matter how far I get from this place and the Kaiser, I know I will never forget tonight, the leer in his eyes and his hand on my knee. I wonder if I’ll ever sleep peacefully again.
I reach the door to my room and push it open, almost letting out a scream of surprise. Blaise and Heron sit on the edge of my bed, waiting in anxious silence.
Heron shoots to his feet at the sight of me, peppering me with questions that I only half hear, but Blaise just looks at me, his eyes boring into mine. He doesn’t have to ask questions; I think he sees my every thought written plainly on my face.
I don’t know what to say to them, so I say nothing, crossing to my vanity and looking at my reflection in the mirror—a wild-eyed girl in a garish dress with black streaks covering most of her face.
“Here,” Heron says quietly, appearing behind me. “I can hold your hair back, if that helps.”
“Please,” I say, barely louder than a whisper.
His fingers are gentle as they rake through my hair, pulling it away from my face. Ash is there, too, coating the top of my head in a sheet of gray, but there is nothing to do about that. S?ren won’t be long, and now, more than ever, everything needs to happen perfectly. With Heron holding my hair, I splash water from the basin onto my face, washing away the sweat and ash and cosmetics.
I give myself one more moment as I pat my face dry with a towel, and Heron steps away from me, letting my hair fall down around my shoulders again. When I turn around to face them, I am strong and sure and ready to rise. I am Queen Theodosia.
“It worked,” I tell Heron and Blaise, looking between them. “Better than I expected, even. The Prinz made a scene—called the Kaiser selfish and laid the lives of his fallen comrades at his feet. Honestly, given the way the Kaiser was looking at him, he might kill S?ren himself, though that’s not a risk I’m willing to take. S?ren will be here soon and the plan is on track.”