Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(15)
“My queen,” he said, straightening up. “Is everything proceeding according to your satisfaction?”
I stared at the platform. The guards had slipped the ropes around the geldjagers and were slowly hoisting the bodies into the air. “Yes. Thank you for seeing to it on such short notice.”
“Well, perhaps if you had told me that you were planning to leave Xenia’s finishing school without any guards and kill a bunch of assassins, I would have been better prepared.” Auster didn’t bother to keep the dry sarcasm or chiding tone out of his voice. He hadn’t been happy that I hadn’t informed him of my plans.
“I didn’t want you to worry, and I didn’t want a bunch of guards marching through the plaza and potentially scaring off whoever came to the meeting.” I sighed. “But most of all, I hoped that the rumor was true, and that another Blair was still alive.”
Auster’s face softened. “I would have hoped it too. I still do.”
His voice came out as a low rasp, and the scent of his salty grief washed over me. Like me, Auster had also witnessed the Seven Spire massacre. Even worse, he’d failed in his duty to protect Queen Cordelia, something that would always haunt him, just like it haunted me.
Thinking about the dead queen made me turn and stare up at Seven Spire palace on the other side of the river. The palace was the crown jewel of Svalin and the kingdom of Bellona, and the structure spiraled up, out, and into the side of Seven Spire Mountain before ending in seven tearstone spires that seemed to reach all the way up to the moon and stars. Balconies, terraces, and metal lifts adorned the outside of the palace like strings of fluorestones, honey cranberries, and cornucopia balls on a yule tree, but my gaze locked onto the massive columns that supported the structure.
In tribute to Bellona’s history, gladiators were carved into the columns, along with swords, shields, daggers, and spears, as though the warriors and weapons were all frozen in some epic battle that stretched across the entire face of the palace and was threatening to spill over onto the surrounding mountains.
Gargoyles with curved horns and long tails tipped with arrowlike stones were also carved into the columns, along with strixes, hawklike birds with wide wings that looked just as sharp as the gladiators’ swords. A few caladriuses were also scattered across the columns, as though they were hiding amid the chaos of the perpetual battle. The tiny, owlish birds might be much smaller, but they were just as powerful as the other creatures.
The artistry of the carvings was exquisite, but what made the columns truly eye-catching was the fact that they were made of tearstone. In addition to both absorbing and deflecting magic, tearstone also had another dual nature—it could change color, going from bright starry gray to deep midnight-blue and back again.
Given the evening hour and the soft light streaming out of the palace windows, the columns were such a dark blue that they almost looked black, although the gladiators and creatures still seemed to move back and forth, lifting and lowering their weapons and wings, and fighting for supremacy.
Despite the beautiful scene, my heart started to ache. The shifting colors represented the Summer and Winter lines of the Blair family—a family that seemed to be extinct, except for me.
I turned away from the palace. “You still think another Blair is alive?”
Auster shrugged. “I don’t know, but I plan to keep searching. I might not hear as many whispers as Xenia, but I have my own spies, and I’m going to investigate every single Blair rumor that they bring to me. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to hope, does it?”
But that was the problem—it did hurt to hope, more than I’d ever imagined.
Auster gestured at the scaffolding. “Are you sure about this, Evie?”
“Yes. The DiLucris and the Mortans need to be reminded what happens to people who are foolish enough to cause trouble in Bellona. And not just them, but all the other kings and queens and anyone else who thinks that Bellona is weak—that I am weak.”
The words left a bitter taste on my tongue. Oh, I knew that I wasn’t weak, not after everything I had been through over the past year, but others didn’t feel the same. Most people in Bellona and beyond still believed that I had only lucked into the throne by accident, and my perceived weakness when it came to both my reign and my magic was the source of many of my problems. Displaying the geldjagers’ bodies was the first step to fixing that. I had other steps in mind, especially when it came to the upcoming Regalia, although I wasn’t quite sure how to accomplish them yet.
“Weak is a word that I would never use to describe you, my queen,” Auster said.
I huffed. “You’re my captain. You have to say that.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”
The strong scent of his lime truthfulness washed over me, and I inhaled the aroma deeply, even though it burned my nose. Auster’s quiet, steady belief meant far more to me than he knew. Now it was time for me to earn that belief—and the respect of everyone in Bellona and beyond.
“I want more guards patrolling the plazas, just in case we didn’t kill all the geldjagers. Coordinate with Xenia, pool your spies, and see what news your collective sources have about the geldjagers, the DiLucris, and the Mortans. Also, have Halvar and Bjarni step up their work with the palace guards. I want them firmly in command and ready to defend Seven Spire when we leave for the Regalia.”