Rachael watched in disbelief as the commander as well as his men fell to their knees, hands in fists over their hearts as a sign of respect. To her.
Next to her Cale grinned widely. She sighed. Times were strange indeed when a homeless orphan could become the Queen of Rifarne.
Epilogue
Disaster! What were the people of Rifarne thinking, putting her on the throne? They were no better than the cursed people of the south, who placed their beliefs in fake gods and goddesses—goddesses!—and who went about their unholy craft like any other person baking bread or knitting a jumper.
And now, Rifarne had followed suit by making her their queen.
Grinding his teeth, Arnost Lis balled his hands into fists as he threw the letter into the fire. Without a sound the letter burned to ashes—just as she would once he got his hands on her.
It just proved that he could not trust anyone to do his work for him. If you wanted someone killed, you had to do it yourself—there was no way around it. He had been foolish to think that this time, he might be able to rely on other people.
That Mist Woman, Aeron, had been supposed to murder the girl. Of course, had he actually contacted that cursed witch... Pah! It was no good now. What was done was done, but maybe a new plan would do the job just as well.
His thin lips broke into a smile. This wasn't a complete disaster. The Mist Woman had been out of his control, had acted on her own volition, but Shyla had performed rather well. Of course, she had not known what exactly she had given the new queen, but it had not been necessary for her to know. It had only been necessary that she would do as she had been told, and she had done beautifully. The necklace, the Ar'Zac, had been a gamble but it was worth it. Since she accepted this gift – his gift – he had been able to observe her. A bit of magic, a necessary evil. That fool late king of theirs had been right at least in one respect. In war, you had to use whatever means necessary to win, and he was not someone who shirked away from his duty. He had called in a witch and had asked her to enchant the necklace. Handing it to Shyla under the pretence of supporting those silly Sparrows had been too easy. Her own loyalty had surfaced that day, too. To think that someone here, in his country, supported those children playing at war was unacceptable. She had returned to tell him the good news, that Rachael had accepted her gift, and he had had her executed. He could not allow any disobedience from his people, and her death had served as a warning. Magic was a thing of evil crafted by the Dark One Himself, and he would not allow it in Tramura. King Aeric had finally danced to his melody, too, but Rachael was another matter. She needed to be dealt with.
“Erimentha!” He had let this go on for too long. It was time he acted. Time they acted. He turned as the door behind him opened, and his wife entered the room.
“My lord?” She was an exotic beauty from far-away Krymistis, her eyes and skin as warm and promising as the flames devouring the letter the Witch Queen had sent them. Their daughter had no doubt inherited her beautiful features, but time would tell.
“Erimentha, my love, it is time. We've been summoned to the White Palace a month from now and will need to make preparations.” Something played behind her eyes, something odd, but women were like that. It was nothing worthy of his attention. Given the circumstances, he could almost understand it.
“My lord. We have already begun to mix poisons and plan traps. Our best assassins have been hired and are awaiting your word, my lord.” Ah, Erimentha. Such a wonderful, faithful, obedient thing she was. He'd known they were meant to be together, rule together, when he'd first met her. A pity she was tainted and was unlikely to breed him many heirs. His son, Kleon, had been the only exception, and while he was still young he had not shown any signs of the taint.
He hadn't been the only child to be born to them, of course. There had been three others, a time ago, but they had all been born with that vile evil tainting their souls. Once they had found out he'd had them executed. He had ordered their deaths to be quick and painless. They had been his children, after all, even if they had been abominations.
“Send one now. Maybe we won't need to set foot into Rifarne, if he succeeds.”
She nodded, her hands obediently folded in front of her. “He will, my lord.”
Arnost smiled. Kleon was getting older and no doubt wanted a brother. All children wanted siblings, and it would do him good to be the oldest child rather than the only child. He would see to it later that Kleon would not be alone much longer.
“Don't be so sure, my beautiful Erimentha. She is Queen now—she will have guards protecting the very ground she steps on. Her Highness will be well protected.” He knew their best chance off success was the first attempt, before they could grow cautious. They would not expect it yet, but should the first try fail... Rulers were always more careful once one attempt on their lives had been made. Rifarne was still busy rebuilding and accepting its new Queen. Getting in and out would be easy.
“What do you wish of me in the meantime, my lord?”
He smiled at her unspoken offer. “Get yourself undressed and into our chambers. I will be with you in a moment.”
She smiled in return, nodded and bowed, and left him to it.
What a day this was! What had transpired in Rifarne was a disgusting disaster—there was no better way to say it—but maybe there were things to look forward to. Erimentha was always a good distraction for his troubled mind, and would give him another son. The sooner the better.
And in the meantime, while his wife was heavy with child, he would travel to Rifarne and kill his daughter who now sat on the throne.
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Acknowledgments
When I started writing this book in early 2015 I had no idea what I was in for. I knew it'd be stressful, I knew there'd be a lot of work, and I knew that, by the time the release date came around, I most likely wouldn't want to look at it anymore. Two of those are true.
I didn't know how incredibly welcoming and supportive the writing community would be—on Twitter, on Wordpress, and in several other corners of the internet, too.
THANK YOU to my thorough beta readers Kay, Faith Rivens, Paul Broome, Mollie Wallace, Kayleigh Osborne, Gerry Klabis and Sarah. Without them this book wouldn't have been the same.
THANK YOU to my editor Briana Mae Morgan. You've been a pleasure to work with, and I owe you a tea.
THANK YOU to Glynn from MonkeyBlood Design, who designed my awesome map and taught me a few things about cartography in the process.
THANK YOU to Rebecca and Andrew for my beautiful book cover. You were such a joy to work with, and I'll be back for the sequel!
THANK YOU to Claire Huston, Nicolette Elzie, Alan Morgan and Rhianne Williams.
A special THANK YOU to Sarah, who always had time to discuss idea with me when I was stuck, and who contributed more to this book than she knows.
THANK YOU to the incredible writing community on twitter and Cookie Break. You're all amazing, and I owe
all of you teas and cookies.
And, finally, THANK YOU to you, dear reader. There are so many amazing books out there, and I'm humbled that you've chosen to read mine. I hope you've enjoyed it, and if you didn't – no hard feelings. Thank you for giving me a chance.
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