I lifted my chin and met Hugo’s pleading gaze. “Can I count on your vote?”
He shook his head in disbelief. “What do you mean?”
“I am asking for your vote, My King. When the time comes in Conandra, will I be able to count on you?”
“You’re serious?”
“I am.”
His shoulders sagged and his expression was marked with concern. But I could also make out the twinkle of surprise in his eyes. “You have my vote, Tessana Allisand of Elysia. And you have my support. No matter what you decide.”
I nearly collapsed. His words were powerful relief that I had not realized I needed until they were in the air.
“Thank you,” I rasped.
His expression hardened once again and he said, “Think about my offer, child. Think about a life here. It would not be a bad one. You could have everything you ever dreamed of. I’d even be so kind as to revisit the marriage contract I signed all those years ago.”
“Father!” Taelon boomed.
Hugo kept his gaze steady on me. “You could still be queen, Tessana. Maybe not of the realm, but of Soravale. And that is not a small offer. Think it over.”
I dared not look to Taelon. “I will. Thank you, Your Highness.” I curtsied, too flustered to be embarrassed about my lack of grace. “Please, excuse me. I have much to think over.”
The men bowed and I fled the room. I felt Haemon close on my heels, but I did not turn to speak to him, even when he had to point out the way.
I didn’t stop moving until the door was safely locked behind me and the bed soft and stable beneath me.
Then the true debate began. Me against myself.
20
Oliver and I had been invited to dine with the King and Queen and their family. It was a high honor, but I was a little suspicious that this was a subtle ploy to convince me to stay in Desmondin.
Oliver had been giddy when he’d pounded on my door looking as polished as I’d ever seen him. I had already banished all help and servants and anyone that needed or wanted anything from me, except for Shiksa.
“We’re invited to dinner!” he grinned. “With the King.” He leaned in and gave me a suave look. “And the Queen.”
“Well, I assumed she’d be there as well. It’s rumored that she eats supper almost as often as her husband.”
My sarcasm didn’t dampen his good mood. “And I bet,” he went on. “That it will be a good supper as well. Baked puddings. And meat pies. And soft Quirick eggs over plump potatoes.” He flopped into one of the sitting chairs and let his long arms droop lazily over the sides. “And think of the desserts, Tess. I wager not one of them will be burned.”
His happiness was infectious and I smiled. “I should hope not. Lest someone lose their hand.”
He bounced into sitting. “Is that true?” I thought he would be appalled, but a slow grin spread across his face. “If they risk losing a hand, then I would stake my own hand that nothing will indeed be burned.”
“You concern me,” I told him. “I’m quite positive you’re mad.”
His gaze narrowed with a new thought. “What of your quest for infamy and glory? How long will we reside as Soravalian royalty before we head off into the sunset?”
“I’m not sure infamy and glory belong in the same sentence.” I frowned. I had not shared anything with Oliver about this morning’s meeting and I wasn’t quite sure where to begin. “We shall leave as soon as we are able to,” I answered. Although even I did not know what that meant yet.
Oliver’s brows drew down low over his brown eyes. “Taelon and his father are supportive of your plans to be Queen of the Realm? Just like that?”
“I do have the crown.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, sure, you have a crown. But what else, Tessana? No army to fight this battle should any of the kingdoms revolt against a sudden change in monarchy. You have no widespread support. Or even small-spread support. You have nothing but a crown and the claim that you are part of a bloodline that is all but extinct.”
Doubts swirled in my gut. “I thought I at least had your support, Oliver the Silent.”
He rolled his eyes again. “Of course, you do. Of course, you will always have my support. But who am I? I’m nothing but an anonymous commoner that cannot even testify to the validity of your claims. I expected more from your meeting with the king is all. I expected a plan and an answer to all of these unanswered what ifs.”
“Hugo doesn’t want me to go back. It pains me to say this, but several of his opinions reflect yours. Apparently, there is a trial called Conandra. My uncle does not have to hand over the throne as soon as I arrive on his doorstep. He is allowed to call for Conandra and contest my claims. All of the remaining sovereigns would be summoned to hear my case.”
He stared at me while he processed what I said. “And if you lose this trial? If they decide that you are not fit to be queen?”
“Imprisonment,” I whispered. “They would imprison me as an imposter to the throne, as an anarchist and insurgent, for the rest of my life.”
He slid to the edge of his seat and clasped his hands in front of him. “Tessana, you are seventeen-years-old. That would be a very long time to suffer.”
So far my mind had been stuck on the disappointment of losing. I had yet to imagine what all of those remaining decades of my life would look like rotting in the pits of the palace dungeons.
“Dragon’s blood,” I hissed.
“We can return to Heprin,” he offered. “To the Temple. The Brotherhood would welcome you back with open arms and not one of them would give away your secrets.” When I chewed on my bottom
