“Maya’s close,” she said sharply. “There isn’t much—”
Boom!
12
The Sovereign
Standing at a window looking out over the harbour, Lukys struggled to contain the pounding in his chest. At any moment, he expected the alarm to sound, for soldiers to come rushing into the room and take them hostage, or worse. Wallace and Zayaan sat around a table behind him with a growing number of nobles, but the most important of their number had yet to join them—the officer in charge of their defences.
“This has been the strangest of times,” Wallace was saying to Sophia who sat with them at the table. “Hidden Gods and traitorous kings and all.”
He doesn’t know the half of it, Lukys sent the silent words to his partner, and sensed ripple of her mirth in response.
Earlier, Wallace and Zayaan had led them through the streets of Mildeth. The queen might have left with most of their army, but Lukys couldn’t help but notice the frosty manner of the populace, the suspicious glances they cast at the strange group moving through their midst. Most relaxed when they noticed Zayaan, but Lukys still sensed their distrust in the sickly green of their aura.
Think of their reception, Lukys couldn’t help but question his plan, whether the four of them would be enough. Even if they took hostage the members of this room, would the people on the streets submit willingly? Or would they rise up against the invaders?
“A strange time indeed,” he said finally, moving from the window to join those gathered at the table. “Though I am glad to find Flumeeren hospitality has not changed.”
Taking the seat alongside his partner, he allowed his eyes to roam over the gathering. Wallace and Zayaan had been joined by half-a-dozen others, minor officers and nobles from the south that had fled the Tangatan threat. Most of those with higher ranks would have marched with the queen, but Amina must have trusted at least a few of these men and women, to have left them in command of her capital.
“Indeed,” Zayaan replied. “Though I admit, I had not thought them strange enough to merit your noble presence in our city, Sovereigns.”
Lukys narrowed his eyes as the queen’s advisor spoke, sensing the man’s suspicion. Zayaan had seated at Lukys’s side, while Wallace took the spare seat alongside Sophia. It was clear these two carried some measure of authority over the others, though neither were military men. He glanced at the door, but there was still no sign of the officer in command of the city guard.
“It has been some time, has it not, since your last visit?” Zayaan continued.
Sensing the question in the man’s words, Lukys allowed himself a smile beneath the veil. It took a moment to find the memory he needed—those more recent seemed easier to uncover.
“Ten years,” he agreed, “Not since the gathering of kings have we stepped foot on the mainland.”
Zayaan smiled at that. “I must say, I find your attire…puzzling. The veils must be quite the advantage amongst negotiations. I can hardly tell which of you is the man and which the woman, let alone the thoughts behind your words.”
Sophia and Lukys turned their eyes upon the man. Though neither spoke, Lukys could sense his partner’s unease. They both recalled the near disaster of their arrival in Perfugia, when Tasha had torn the blindfold from Sophia’s eyes, revealing her true lineage.
Thankfully, Wallace came to their rescue, as his face grew red and he spluttered something unintelligible at the elderly Zayaan.
“My apologies!” he said finally, turning to them, “I am sure Zayaan meant no offence with his words.”
Lukys proffered an exaggerated sigh beneath his veil. “It is a tradition of our people, you understand,” he replied. “Only our own—and royalty, of course—may look upon the likeness of the Sovereigns.”
That was only partly true. The memories he held recalled many occasions when the Sovereigns had revealed themselves, but there was no need to make exceptions here. At least, not yet. Not until all had gathered in place.
“Fear not, good Sovereigns, we in Flumeer respect the traditions of the ancients,” Wallace proclaimed, flashing Zayaan a glare as he spoke. “Why, the good queen has often remarked to me the loyalty of your kingdom. Perfugia has never missed a tribute to the alliance.”
Lukys’s heart twisted at the man’s words. He knew all too well what Wallace was referring too—the recruits like Lukys that Perfugia had sent each year to fight on the frontline. Only…
“It is a welcome arrangement for us all,” Lukys forced out the words, though they made his intestines squirm. “Your generals receive more fodder to slow the Tangatan advance, and we…rid ourselves of wasted mouths.”
Lukys, you know that is not true, Sophia’s concern sounded in his mind, a wave a warmth accompanying her reassurance.
He smiled beneath his veil and sent back his silent agreement. Outwardly, he said nothing, though he saw shock in the expressions of some around the table.
“You are surprised at our candour,” Sophia offered, picking up the conversation. “We believe one should always talk openly amongst allies—least distrust be allowed to enter relations.” She raised her drink to offer a toast.
Lukys raised an eyebrow at her words, but the others were already following Sophia’s lead and raising their cups to toast her back. With a sigh he did the same, though it was difficult to pass the cup of liquor beneath his veil.
But as he sipped the burning whiskey, an idea came to him. Looking at those seated around the table, he realised they didn’t seem so different from the Flumeerens he’d once fought with in Fogmore. Richer, certainly, but not the greedy nobles he had expected of those who followed Amina. Rather, their loyalty seemed…misdirected, abused by a woman who had abandoned them here, helpless to defend
