Page 139 of War Queen
Norah’s mouth dropped open, and she scoffed. “First, Caspian was an accident.” She cast him a glance. “Sorry again.”
Her justice smiled. “It’s all right.”
“And Mikael”—she eyed her husband accusatively—“in fairness, you were kidnapping me.” She looked back at Soren. “As were you.”
Soren’s deep, rumbling chuckle came again.
Norah narrowed her eyes at him. “Keep it up and I might give you another scar to reminisce about.”
The smile still didn’t leave his face.
“What if his intentions are true?” she asked, shifting them back to the matter at hand. “What if he wants to talk about a possible treaty?” Didn’t they see? This was an opportunity to change the course of war—perhaps a very small opportunity, but an opportunity nonetheless.
“His intentions aren’t true, Salara,” Mikael said.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know,” he said firmly.
She could only stare at him with her mouth slightly agape. “I’m just to tell him no?”
“You’ll tell him nothing.”
“So… I’m to send his messenger back withnothing? That’s the same thing as telling him no.”
“You won’t send his messenger back.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Soren said.
She dropped her napkin down beside her plate. “Absolutely not. I won’t respond to a letter of peace with blood.” That certainly wouldn’t help prevent war.
“I can do it without blood,” Soren said.
She scowled at him. “I said no.” She needed to buy more time to talk to Mikael, to get him to see reason and to convince him of the value of diplomacy. “Put him somewhere until we can decide what to do with him. Not the cells. Somewhere comfortable.”
The center of Mikael’s brow creased. “You would put our enemy’s messenger somewhere comfortable?”
Soren snorted. “Is that a rhetorical question?” he asked, drawing a sharp glance from Mikael.
Caspian shifted his gaze from Norah to Mikael, then back to Norah again. “I will put him in a guest chamber.”
Norah kept her eyes on her husband. He had an objection—she could see it. But he only took a drink from his chalice, yielding. It was a start.
Norah pulled her fingers from between Mikael’s and balled her fist against his palm to get more of his warmth. They walked the long hall of the castle, toward the study, and she was cold. She was always cold, it seemed. Castles were cold. He chuckled and pulled her hand over his arm and covered it with his own. Gods, she loved his warmth. She shuffled closer to him.
“Any word from Soren’s Aleon king?” he asked.
“They’re almost to Songs. Making good progress.” The corners of her mouth turned up.Soren’s Aleon king. She hadn’t been sure that Mikael would accept Phillip, and in many ways he hadn’t. As a no-choice ally, yes, but not as someone he trusted, and certainly not as a friend. But he accepted him as Soren’s, and so accepted him as a man that needed to remain alive and well. Soren loved Phillip, and Mikael loved Soren. Perhaps that protected Phillip more than any alliance.
As they neared the end of the hall, Caspian and Soren came around the corner, their strides full of purpose.
“A letter,” Soren said as they reached them. “Another one. From Cyrus.” Caspian held it for Norah.
She broke the seal and found the words. Her heart beat faster.
Queen Norah,
My letter goes unanswered, but as my messenger has been treated kindly, I don’t believe this to be a complete refusal. Perhaps it’s not a refusal at all; perhaps it’s only hesitation, which I understand. To show my intent, I’ll come meet you in the outer reaches of Mercia, on your terms. Let’s meet and speak, for I’m sure we’ll find common ground.
