Page 160 of North Queen
Norah opened the door and moved to take the tray from the small table that had been set up by the wall. She stopped. On the tray sat a bowl, and inside were three small, rolled parchments.
She pulled open one of the parchments, and her heart thrummed in her chest. Then she quickly glanced over the rest. Her hands trembled.
There were three.
Three annulments.
For three wives.
And they bore the king’s seal.
Her silk shoes fell silent on the stone floors as Norah hurried through the castle with Vitalia close behind her. Her heart raced as she went. The king had annulled his marriages, which she’d doubted he’d do. Despite his coarseness, he cared. And what surprised her more was thatshecared. The commander was wrong. Shedidknow him.
They reached the throne room, but the king wasn’t without company. Norah paused in the wing, watching out of sight.
Mikael sat on his throne, listening to a man in an emerald-green cloak. An embroidered golden crest on the chest of the man’s jacket caught the light as he moved, but she wasn’t able to make it out fully. His skin was darker than that of the Kharavian people, but not black like the people of Etreus. He wore his hair cropped short but his beard long.
“An envoy from Serra,” Vitalia whispered. Her breath came shallow. “Perhaps it would be better to speak to Salar later.”
Vitalia was afraid. But of what?
“Who is that—Serra?”
“It’s the slavers’ kingdom. South. Across the Aged Sea.”
Norah swallowed. The kingdom that dealt in slave trade. Her own revulsion swelled. She watched them. Norah understood the man’s words as he spoke to the king. “They speak the Northern tongue?”
“The Northern tongue is the Common tongue. Almost all kingdoms use it for trade and relations.”
That meant everyone spoke the Northern tongue. After what had happened with Bremhad, she’d known it was that way in Kharav, but she hadn’t realized it was a common language across kingdoms. A bitter taste crept over the back of her tongue and down her throat as she thought about the lord commander. And as if thoughts made him appear, her eyes found him. He stood to the right of the king’s throne, looking murderous, as always.
“King Milar disagrees,” the envoy told Mikael as Norah started to listen in. “He proposes a reduction of Serra’s share by one third, or an increase in provisions from Kharav.”
“They talk of trade?” Norah whispered to Vitalia.
Vitalia nodded, visibly upset. “Kharav trades slaves with Serra and provides provisions to support them.”
“Go back to the sanctuary,” Norah told her. “I’ll return after I’ve spoken to the king.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Norah whispered. “Go.”
Vitalia left her standing in the wing, and Norah turned her attention back to Mikael.
“He awaits your answer,” the envoy said.
“I’ve already given it,” Mikael replied. His face didn’t show the anger that Norah heard in his voice.
“King Milar says this is unacceptable.”
Mikael rose from his throne. He walked down the stairs, calm and composed. Then, in a single movement, he pulled his sword from his scabbard and cut down the Serran guard beside the envoy. Norah’s heart leapt to her throat, and she clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry.
Mikael grabbed the envoy by his jacket and forced him to his knees as he swept the tip of the blade to the man’s neck.
“No!” Norah called out, stepping forward from the shadows of the wing.
They all turned at the sound of her voice. Mikael’s eyes met hers, and he stopped.
