“How many?” Rayghast asked his commander.

“Our numbers far exceed their own. And the men they do have are untrained peasants, Your Grace. Nevandia has so few true knights left.”

“Are those Nevandian prisoners down there?” asked Silex, peering closely at a cluster of men surrounded by Tacornian guards. His lips spread into a pleased smirk at the sight of the thin, dirty men, in nothing but rags and bare feet.

“Yes, we captured these men on their way to join the Nevandian army. The prince this morning sent out a call for all able-bodied men.”

Silex gave a patronizing scoff. “Able-bodied is too polite a term.”

The Tacornian guards split up the men, dragging them across the grass to different stations. The prisoners howled and screeched in terror; their fear sent Rayghast’s magic aquiver. Archers took aim. Arrows soared. Target practice into real flesh. A giant Tacornian soldier threw a spear straight into the chest of a screaming prisoner trying to run away. One final soldier decapitated the remaining prisoners in a swift, brutal assault. It was an excellent show of skill and might.

Soon, all Nevandians would end up like those prisoners. Even the bravest would be too cowed with fear; they, too, would succumb to his might.

A messenger appeared on horseback. He quickly leapt from his horse and bowed deeply before his king. “Forgive the interruption, Your Grace, but Princess Eriu of Varana’s carriage is pulling into the city.”

“Ah, finally,” said Dobbs, clapping his hands together. “Shall we return to the castle to inspect the girl?”

Rayghast climbed into the saddle of his massive warhorse and galloped back to the fortress; the council and Silex in tow. A blue and gold carriage sat in the courtyard surrounded by six soldiers with Varanese flags. Blue water dragons stitched across the fabric served as the Jade Emperor’s insignia.

Rhia knelt in the dirt courtyard hugging a pudgy, little girl, dressed in fine Varanese clothing. His wife had yet to see Rayghast and his entourage approaching. Quite unusual for her, as she was always observing, always aware. Her sister, today, held her full attention.

“Let me look at you,” Rhia said, pulling away, squinting back tears. Rayghast had never seen his wife show such emotions.

“The journey took ages,” the little girl said in exasperation. “I’m starving. And smelly. Can I eat supper in the bath?”

Rhia then caught sight of Rayghast. Immediately, her warm demeanor shifted. She stood to full height, altered her face into its usual indifference. This was the first he’d seen of her since she’d discovered his magic. There were no new rumors floating around, none of the staff treated Rayghast any differently. It appeared Rhia was keeping to her word. Now that her sister was here, Rayghast had even more leverage to keep her silent.

Rhia addressed her little sister with a stern, regal voice. “You are a princess, Eriu. You must behave. I’m glad to see you left your dolls behind.”

Rayghast was mildly pleased to hear her scolding the obnoxious child.

“Because Mother forced me to,” Eriu said, twisting her mouth. “Do you know who I’m to marry? Is he old? Is he grumpy? Does he smell like moldy cheese and sour milk? Where’s the king? Can I meet him?”

“The king is here, child,” Dobbs said in a commanding tone.

Rhia dropped into a curtsey. Eriu spun around, staring at Rayghast like a largemouth bass. The child, despite being a princess, was physically unimpressive and had a nasal, irritating voice Rayghast wouldn’t be able to tolerate.

 Rhia quickly yanked her sister down into a curtsey. Rayghast ignored Eriu’s lack of immediate respect. She was clearly dim-witted.

“She’s arrived, then,” Rayghast said.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Rhia replied, frozen in her curtsey.

Rayghast’s gaze didn’t linger on Eriu long. His attention strayed to within the castle where the door to the dungeon opened. A soldier and Wattling appeared as a wretched female scream from below pierced the air. Eriu jumped, eyes opening wide.

“What’s down there?” Eriu whispered.

“The dungeons,” said Rayghast. “For people who disobey.”

Eriu shrunk back towards Rhia.

Dobbs frowned as he stared down at the girl. “Your sister didn’t inherit your beauty, I see.”

“She looks as I did as a girl. Princess Eriu will grow into herself,” Rhia said evenly, although Rayghast detected a spark of anger.

Dobbs replied with a skeptical hmmm. Lord Silex’s nose wrinkled in distaste as Cronhold hobbled down the steps towards them; Wattling followed behind with a sour expression.

“Good, good,” Cronhold said. “She’s here. I trust you had a pleasant, uh, journey, Princess?”

Eriu rolled her eyes.  “Oh, yes, a nice, long, trip.”

Spoiled brat.

Cronhold’s sniff echoed around the courtyard. He gave one hacking, phlegmy cough. Eriu made a face, receiving a nudge from Rhia, and the girl cleared her expression.

Cronhold swept a careless hand in the air. “The wedding will be in five days’ time. You may go settle in your rooms.”

“Forgive me, Husband,” said Rhia before Rayghast had even taken a step, “but who will Princess Eriu be married to?”

Rayghast said nothing, but gestured to the nobleman beside him.

Silex prowled forward with formidable hauteur, and pointed at Eriu. “Let me see you.”

Eriu’s eyes darted between all the men, fingers fidgeting with the bell sleeves of her dress. Silex circled her twice, no doubt noticing every flaw.

Rhia’s sister was Rayghast’s gift. An encouragement for Silex to continue supplying coin, men, and support for the war. It was the highest reward Rayghast could offer. A princess would bring Silex power and esteem.

Silex frowned and sighed dramatically. “I suppose she’ll have to do. Her dowry is significant, and that’s the most important matter.” He stared pointedly at Eriu with disdain. “You’d better give me sons.”

Rhia’s eyes tightened as she said, “Come, Eriu, let’s get you settled,” then ushered her sister inside the castle.

“I don’t want to marry that man,” Eriu said in a loud whisper. She used that bratty, childish tone Rayghast hated. “Please, don’t make me marry him!”

“Women don’t dissent here,” Rhia replied, matter-of-fact, taking one last glance at Rayghast. “You will do whatever the council and Lord Silex demand.”

Once the sisters were out of sight, Wattling pulled Rayghast aside in a conspiratorial manner. “Your Grace, I would speak with you.” Checking over his shoulder to see that Cronhold and Dobbs had Silex engaged in conversation, Wattling produced a small vial from his pocket. “While conducting the search on Queen Rhia’s rooms, as requested, we uncovered this in her bedside drawer.”

Rayghast took the small bottle of plum-colored liquid in his fingers. “What is it?”

“We summoned an apothecary, who said this is some sort of tonic that women use to . . .” Wattling’s voice dropped to a low murmur. “To rid themselves of a child. We’re questioning one of the queen’s servants right now—”

Taking the stairs three at a time, Rayghast burst through Rhia’s bedroom doors, fury blazing inside him. Eriu was lying on the chaise, crying into a pillow. Rayghast’s wife sat at her vanity as one of her ladies brushed her long, straight hair. Rhia vaulted from her stool and into a low curtsey. Eriu, her ladies, and servants froze in place.

“Take the girl and get out,” Rayghast growled to the nearest maid. The woman quickly escorted Eriu from the room, closing the doors behind her. Rayghast pulled the vial from his pocket. “Recognize this?”

Rhia glanced from the vial to the floor. “No, My King.”

“I had men search your room this morning while you ate breakfast with your ladies.”