Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
A little laugh shook through her. So her mother had not believed her too weak to be queen. Just too weak to face her uncle.
“I did wish that I had not promised to wait until Soren was dead—especially when this one seemed to fulfill the prophecy.” He gestured to Warrick. “But my vow was only not to allow you to return before that time. And in that way, I also kept you safe.”
“Then why not send Warrick ahead with his axe? Why take the slow route and keep us from Galoth?” The answer hit her like the lightning flashing in the distance. “You knew. You knew what the jewels were. And if we traveled through Galoth, the Stars of Anhera would be recognized and returned.”
“And you would die.” The serjeant confirmed her guess with that reply.
She shook her head, disbelief clawing at her gut. That he would conceal this. “You should have told me. Should have told me that people were dying and I had a way to help them.”
“At the cost of your life, my queen? That was a decision that should not be made. My vow meant I did not have to.”
“It was not your choice to make!”
“I had no choice, my queen.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “And no lasting harm was done. Everyone taken by the curse was returned.”
“No lasting harm?” She stared at him. “No lasting harm in the terror of watching your own limbs turn to stone? No lasting harm in watching it happen to someone you love? And what of the ones who hacked away part of themselves trying to stop it—those limbs did not return. What of the years lost locked in stone? The years they lost with their loved ones, and the years their loved ones lived without them, believing them dead? You have grieved, Serjeant. You know the agony of living and believing you will never again hold the person you love the most. Yet there was no harm done?”
Lowering his eyes, the serjeant said nothing.
“Do you know who stole them?”
Serjeant Iarthil seemed relieved not to have to answer Elina. “Soren paid to have it done. Your mother learned of his intention and intercepted the rings.”
Elina frowned. “Yet she did not return the jewels? She must have heard of the curse that fell over Galoth.”
“She kept them as protection against Soren.”
“Kept them,” Elina echoed, her heart suddenly sick and heavy. “Though she knew people were dying.”
“She would have died. Do not judge her without knowing, Your Highness. She never spoke of an intent to keep them forever. Only until she knew what her brother was plotting.”
Elina narrowed her eyes. “Do you truly believe that? You follow her in all things. If my mother had said anything of returning them as quickly as possible, regardless of the risk to her own life, would you not have also followed her in that and told me what my mother hoped to do? Instead you made the choice for me that she did for herself, because you believe it was the right choice for a queen to make.”
He looked away. After a moment he said, “In the end, it mattered not. Soren poisoned her. We fled while she still wore them. I know not what happened to the jewels before they landed in your lap.”
Poisoned her. Soren had known exactly how to get around the jewels’ protection. All that had saved Elina was Chardryn’s rampant pride, which would allow her to poison her queen but not in such quantities that the poisoning would be obvious and besmirch her family’s name. “It must have been quite the dose.”
“Or Anhera was not so inclined to protect her.”
“Perhaps.” Only minutes before, she’d been remembering how wise and generous her mother had been. To learn this of her now…Elina could not dwell on it. Her mother was dead, and Elina would have the rest of her life to sort through her feelings. Yet the serjeant stood before her now. “For two years, you let those people suffer. Did you intend to wait until I was dead to return them?”
“I would have first used them to defeat Soren, so the throne could return to its rightful line.”
“Would you have taken Warrick’s axe as well?”
“I had not yet decided.”
“Are you here to stop me from returning to Aleron?” As his vow still demanded.
He gave to her a pained look. “If this”—he indicated the demon—“is what Soren’s magic creates, nowhere near Aleron is safe, my queen. My honor requires me to take you away from here.”
“I am not your queen. I have never been your queen. My mother has always been, and by keeping your vow to her, you have wronged me. But you can right that wrong by letting me be. I will not forget the many times you have truly saved me.” Voice cold and firm, she made her decree. “But henceforth, you are relieved of your duty, Serjeant Iarthil. If you wish to return to Aleron, you will receive your pension. But I will not see you again. I know you believe your honor demands you to hold to your vow, but what you call honor is not honor at all. There is no honor in letting the people of Galoth suffer. No honor in lying to me instead of confessing your conflict. Should I trust a man who lies to his queen and leads her astray? I will not. Never will I trust you at my side again.”