Page 35 of The Witch Queen

“It will take more than Your Grace’s forces to defeat Rycinthia,” Warbeck returns.

“And here I assumed you were an earl, not a general.”

“My father is right,” Gavin speaks up. “Riven needs change.”

“Rivenbelongs to the line of White,” Margaret snaps.

“Only because Braxos claimed it,” the boy says. He looks around at the crowd. “We all know the story. Before Braxos took the throne, the realm was dying, just as it is now. Malum running rampant. The witches against us. An open trial, a new leader, is finally what ended such misery.”

The mutterings of the crowd begin to shift from suspicion to interest.

“A fine speech,” Margaret drawls. “But you’re forgetting a very important fact: the only reason those trials were called is because there was no heir. We have one here who is more than capable.”

The duchess gestures toward Blodwyn, but the princess stands frozen like a statue, her expression inscrutable.

“She is no prince,” someone at the back calls. “Riven is a realm ofkings.”

“And look what happened to ours,” yet another person adds. “Not just King Callen, but his father before him. The other princes—Arthur and Tiergan.”

Curse,the word eddies through the room in undertones.

Margaret scoffs. “If you’re just going to spout superstitious nonsense—”

“It’s not nonsense, Your Grace,” another courtier calls. “Not with the king’s condition. Malum is only worsening. Warbeck’s right. An open trial can help us find a proper heir.”

The court grows even bolder, many shouting their agreement or banging their fists on the tables, rattling the dishes. I watch the scene unfold in silence, my shadows weaving around me as I attempt to calculate my next move.

“This is ridiculous.” Margaret throws up her hands. “If it’s so simple to abolish the royal line, then why hasn’t it happened before?”

That’s a very good question. I look to Parnell.

“Because while the council approves the trials themselves,” my steward replies, “a challenge to the original claimant can only be granted by the king.”

And no king would be idiotic enough to agree to such an allowance.

“There you have it,” Margaret says, matter-of-factly. “With Callen in such a state, he cannot possibly give his consent. This is—”

“The kingorthe regent,” Parnell amends.

All at once, the weight of the hall’s attention settles over me. Margaret turns slowly, like an animal who has just sensed that its predator isfarcloser than it believed. Malum shivers to life behind my sternum. This ismydecision, I realize.

A thousand thoughts and possibilities swarm in my mind. Common sense tells me to refuse. Warbeck should be punished, and swiftly, for this betrayal. But another idea begins to take shape:

If Ididopen the trials, the challenges would no longer be ceremonial. Blodwyn could lose. And if she does lose, or if Margaret believes someone else might snatch the throne instead of the princess, it might persuade the duchess to bargain with me. It’s a gamble—a large one. But an open trial may serve me better than permitting Margaret to run rampant through this court. The duchess assumed she could swoopinto Riven, declare the trials, and rule through her niece. I’m not going to let that happen. Not without a fight.

Yes,my shadows seem to whisper.Show her who you are.

“As you said,” I begin, speaking directly to Margaret, “Riven has an heir who is more than capable. Let her prove herself so. The challenge stands.”

The hall cheers and I savor the spark of fury in Margaret’s eyes. The knowledge that, at least for the time being, I’ve won the upper hand. But then my attention catches on someone else: Blodwyn. She stands at her place, practically vibrating with rage.

Without a word, she turns on her heel and bolts out of the hall.

Chapter Ten

Blodwyn

The vehement, green-eyed gaze of a witch glares up at me.