The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire, #1)(25)
Kol slowly tore his gaze away from the woman and found two guards standing on either side of the gate, their hard expressions daring the Eldrians to make a wrong move.
“Who approaches the queen’s castle?” the guard on the left, a woman with wide shoulders and green eyes, called out to them.
“King Kolvanismir Arsenyevnek, son of Ragvanisnar the Third, holder of the sky scepter and supreme ruler of Eldr requests an audience with Queen Irina of Ravenspire at the queen’s earliest convenience to discuss a matter of dire importance.” Jyn’s voice carried over the awful choking sound of yet another apple rising out of the woman’s throat, but still Kol flinched inwardly.
What kind of crime did this woman commit against her queen that she deserved a punishment so horrific?
“Greetings, my lord. Please come inside the gate while I alert the castle steward,” the guard said.
Moments later, a tall man with black hair, blue eyes, and a calm, inscrutable expression met them on the wide drive that led from the gate to the castle’s entrance. The man’s brow furrowed as he studied Kol for a moment. “King Kolvanismir?”
Jyn took a deep breath. “It is with deep regret that we inform Ravenspire of the untimely passing of King Ragvanisnar the Third, along with his wife, Queen Linneayaste, and firstborn son, Prince Ragvanisnar.”
The man nodded slowly. “My deepest condolences on such an unfathomable loss, King Kolvanismir. My name is Viktor. The queen is scheduled to leave for our northern lands shortly, but she can give you a few minutes.”
Moments later, Viktor led the Eldrians into a long rectangle of a room with candles lit in bronze sconces along the walls and a huge table surrounded by chairs in the center of the floor. Queen Irina sat in a high-backed chair at the far end of the table, her spine stiff enough to make Master Eiler proud and her pale hands pressed flat against the tabletop on either side of a sheet of parchment. There was an enormous black viper loosely coiled around her shoulders, his golden eyes staring at the Draconi.
Even with the creepy snake as a necklace, Irina was beautiful—the kind of beautiful that stole a boy’s words and made it hard to remember how to walk without tripping over his own two feet. Hair like sunshine, eyes like the midday sky, and pale skin that glowed against her delicate bones—it seemed impossible that someone so dainty and pretty could have used her magic to force an old woman to choke on apples all day long.
Irina smiled warmly, and Kol’s hearts kicked hard against his chest.
“Please come in, King Kolvanismir, and be seated at my side.” Her voice was soft and welcoming. “Your dignitaries may take any seat they like along the left side of the table. My official witnesses will be on the right.”
She gestured toward Viktor, who sat at her right hand with a quill, an inkpot, and a few more sheets of parchment. Two other men, both dressed in guards’ uniforms, sat down across from the Draconi as well.
Once everyone had taken a seat, Irina folded her hands on her blank sheet of parchment and turned to Kol, her blue eyes intent.
“I am deeply saddened to hear of the loss you recently suffered. I suffered a similar loss years ago. It was devastating.” Her gaze slipped from his as if looking at some faraway moment of her own. One warm hand reached out and covered his, and then her gaze snapped back to his. “But we are royalty. We cannot grieve as others grieve. We must move forward and take up the mantle of leadership for the good of our kingdoms, yes?”
He nodded and then realized that if he wanted to be treated like an equal, he had to act like one. Pulling his hand from hers, he said, “It is for the good of our kingdoms that I’ve come to you.”
She inclined her head as if waiting to hear more.
Kol’s posture matched Irina’s, and his voice was clear and strong as he said, “For the sake of time, I’ll be blunt. Ravenspire’s people are starving because of the blight that is plaguing your country. Your people, driven by starvation and desperation, are becoming violent toward one another other and toward you.”
Irina’s eyes narrowed.
He softened his tone. “I know you’ve done everything in your power to help them, but you cannot produce food where none exists.”
Trugg made a noise in the back of his throat, and suddenly Kol was sure everyone in the room was thinking of the woman lashed to the castle wall, gagging on apples as they rose from her gut and tumbled out of her mouth.
He hurried on. “You need resources to meet your people’s immediate need and to deal with the subsequent food shortages over the coming years as you rebuild your agriculture.”
“Is that what I need?” Irina’s voice was still quiet, but there was a note of power that hadn’t been there before, and Kol didn’t have to glance at his friends’ strained faces to remember that he was dealing with a mardushka.
“Eldr has need as well.” He looked Irina in the eye. “We are being invaded by an army of unnaturally strong ogres. We believe they were unleashed by the dark magic that has enslaved the kingdom of Vallé de Lumé to the south of us. The ogres are overcoming our armies because they have somehow managed to master use of that magic and are turning it against us. Without powerful magic of our own, Eldr will be overrun.”
“And so you propose a trade?” Irina asked.
“Yes.” And, skies above, please let her agree to it. “We will give you enough of Eldr’s treasure to purchase goods from Súndraille to feed your kingdom for the next ten years in exchange for you using your magic to flush the ogres out of Eldr and seal them back into Vallé de Lumé.”