The general frowned at his son. “Most unusual.” Although his expression remained troubled, he did not push further.
“I have called you here,” Elodie said, drawing the room’s attention back toward her, “because I have reason to believe we may soon face an invasion from the Republics.”
“Nonsense.” The general’s tone was incredulous. “Velle has been at peace with the Republics since the inception of the First. I see no reason why that should change.”
“The Sixth Republic has been sending me threats,” Elodie explained, gesturing to Edgar’s letter in the center of the table. “Edgar DeVos believes he is owed my hand in marriage. His intention is to unite our countries by matrimony and begin building an empire. Failing that, his contingency plan is to enlist the other five Republics to assist in physically claiming me.”
She handed the missive to the general for review. He took in a single line before he began to chuckle. As he continued to read, his laughter grew. Tal nudged her foot beneath the table, as though to say told you.
Elodie bristled at their amusement.
“He’s just having a bit of fun,” the general finally said, tossing the letters to the center of the table. “Edgar is a fine young man with a sound mind. He has a flair for the dramatic, yes. But what boy doesn’t when it comes to women?” Rob cleared his throat uncomfortably. “You hurt his feelings and so he has retaliated with a childish outburst. But your love life does not warrant military interference.”
Elodie turned to Rob. “You said that I should take him seriously,” she accused.
Her brother shrugged, avoiding eye contact with the queen and the general at all costs. “I just told you to apologize.”
“But I didn’t do anything,” Elodie said through gritted teeth. “He’s the one threatening me.”
“Wars are not waged over bruised egos, Elodie,” the general said, none too gently.
“‘Your Majesty’ will do.” She was losing control, not only of the room but of her patience. “Tal?” She turned to the one other person with military experience.
“It’s a waste of resources, Lo.” Tal at least sounded apologetic. “Think of the soldiers you’d have to feed and clothe and arm.”
“You all would have him take me, then?” Fury spewed from Elodie’s tongue, hot and metallic and impossible to swallow. The night of Brianne’s coronation, Edgar had cornered her in the garden. She could still smell the peich-nat on his breath, trace the pattern of the bruises his fingers had left around her wrist. “You would subject me to life as a hostage in the Sixth Republic?”
General Garvey, too, was losing his patience. “The Republics are complex governments, Majesty. They do not have time to cater to the whims of a boy obsessed with some silly girl who broke his heart.”
With her last few ounces of composure, Elodie kept her voice measured. “We’ll see how silly I appear when Edgar steals me from my bed. When this novice despot burns our castle to the ground with the help of his neighboring allies.”
Rob stifled an eye roll. “Surely it won’t come to that.”
“No, it won’t,” Elodie snapped. “Because your father is going to send troops to patrol our border.” She used the top of her palm to smack the table the way her mother had once done. The sound was resonant, and better, it did not hurt. “You will not let Edgar DeVos cross the line, General. That is an order, from your queen and commander.” If her council was not willing to protect her, Elodie had no choice but to take her safety in her own hands.
The general sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. At last, he nodded. “As you wish.” He got heavily to his feet, his medals tinkling as he adjusted the collar of his uniform. He turned to his son. “Robin, should you care to accompany me back to the front lines, there is always a place for you by your brother’s side.” The silence that ensued was louder, even, than the red blooming on Rob’s cheeks.
“No, thank you, sir,” he mumbled. “I have no interest in war.”
“Most of us don’t, son,” the general said wearily. “But the world gives us no choice.” He cast a rueful glance at Elodie.
“General.” Elodie dipped her head in dismissal, folding and unfolding her hands upon the tabletop. “I look forward to your reports from the field. Take strength.”
Using the final drops of her patience, Elodie waited for the door to close behind General Garvey before rounding on Tal and Rob. The two of them had been so useless as to be offensive.
“If this is how you treat your queen,” Elodie spat, embarrassed by the general’s dismissal of her fear, “I’ll have you expelled from my council. Speak in my defense or not at all.”
“El—”
“Lo—”
“Do not undermine me with pet names at a time like this.” Rob opened his mouth, but Elodie held up a finger to stop him. “You do not know what it feels like to be preyed upon by a man who confidently intends to own you,” she continued, “a boy who thinks he deserves you as his birthright. You have never needed to imagine what happens if he wins.” The release of her anger left her cold. “Get out of my sight.”
This time they obeyed, leaving Elodie alone with her sisters.
“Do you really think he’ll come for you?” Brianne whispered.
“I don’t know, Bri,” Elodie admitted.
At this point, she had no choice but to take the threat seriously. More and more it seemed that being queen meant defending unfavorable opinions, fighting to convince others of a truth they could not—or would not—accept. As a monarch, she had expected to be met with collaboration and partnership. Instead, Elodie had never felt more alone. How had her mother lived like this for over twenty years? At this rate, Elodie might not survive a single season.
“Thank you for defending our presence.” Cleo was picking at her cuticles.
“I always will, Cleo,” Elodie said, looking at her sisters mournfully. “You have my trust and you are my comfort. And so, I hope that when I ask you both to leave me now, you understand that it has nothing to do with either of you, and everything to do with me.”
“We know, Ellie,” Brianne said, almost reverently, as she got to her feet.
“Do not stew so long that you lose your tenderness,” Cleo said, tapping Elodie on the nose.
That elicited a laugh from the queen. “What does that even mean?”
Cleo shrugged as she headed for the door. “Something Artur Anders said.” Although her smile was placid, her eyes glittered mischievously. “I assume it has to do with meats, but what do I know of cookery.”
Once alone, Elodie again resisted the urge to tear Edgar’s letter into shreds. His slanting scrawl taunted her. She could not bear to look at the poisonous promises but knew better than to destroy the record of such a potent threat. She went searching for a hiding place, rattling the wooden panels and rifling through the sparse drawers.
She had nearly given up when she noticed a discoloration in the paneling where two walls met. The wood stain was a single shade too dark, the difference in color difficult to perceive where it rested near to the floor.
She squatted down, using her fingernails to peel back the wood, levering it until it gave. In the crevice sat a stack of letters tied up with string.
