Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,204

been summoned. Standing off to the side, as if waiting for us, are Beast, Maraud, Aeva, Father Effram, Lazare, and an older man I have never seen before. The air of solemnity is thick enough to cut with a knife and serve on a slab of bread.

When we are before the dais, both Sybella and I sink into deep curtsies.

“I have invited you all to this private meeting for reasons that shall soon become clear. All that I am about to explain has been written down, ratified by my seal, and witnessed by four members of my council. It is,” he continues, “real and enduring. It shall outlast even me.”

Unease begins to work its way inside me, for if a law or proclamation has been fashioned to live beyond the king who signed it, it is near impossible to have undone.

“This has been a year of learning for all of us.” The queen shoots him a brief but bemused glance. “And that includes me most of all.” He stops, takes a deep breath, and then says, “Let’s dispense with the formality, shall we? In essence, my lady wife was correct. The crown should use you—your skills and talents. The crown will use you. I have created an Order of the Nine, a select cadre of individuals who have been chosen due to their skill, cunning, bravery, courage in the face of obstacles, and anything else I find worthy of rewarding. But,” he continues, “these nine shall also honor the nine old saints of Brittany. I think they—and their duchess—have demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt their loyalty and commitment to the greater good of the people of the land. Because two of the nine are not able to serve, I have adjusted the numbers accordingly so that there will be nine of you—always nine.”

He rises then and reaches for a black embossed box that lies on a small table between him and the queen. He carefully takes from it a simple gold chain with a nine-pointed star fashioned of three interlaced triangles. Each point of the star holds a different gemstone favored by one of the Nine. He crosses over to Maraud. “Sir Crunard, in thanks for your honor and loyalty, risks taken, and horrors endured. I am honored to offer you this seal of office.”

Maraud bows his head and accepts the chain.

The king moves to Beast next. “Sir Waroch, for being the embodiment of honor in a world that tried so hard to strip it from you, and for serving your queen no matter the cost.”

Aeva is next, for her skill in battle and knowledge and power of the earth with which she lives so closely, as well as her loyalty to the crown.

“And for you, charbonnerie, for using your most extraordinary knowledge on our behalf and for coming to the queen’s aid when few else would.” Lazare’s face when the king places the chain around his neck is such a mixture of surprise, disgust, and pleasure that it is all I can do not to laugh.

When the king stops in front of Father Effram, a wry smile plays about his mouth. “Father Effram. You serve a trickster of a saint and always manage to be where you have not been invited, yet your advice is worth its weight in gold. Thank you for being the voice of reason when so many others could not find it in their hearts.”

Next he comes to the older man I do not know, who turns out to be one of the mendicant priests who serve the patron saint of travelers. “As this is a crossroads, it is right that we have one who serves Saint Cissonius on this council, to advise us on all the crossroads to come.”

When he removes the next chain, he crosses the room to the queen, who sits in her chair looking faintly surprised. “And who better to represent Saint Brigantia than my own queen, who was dedicated to her at birth and has shown that saint’s wisdom throughout the entirety of her life.”

A knot forms in my throat then, for I can only imagine how much this means to the queen after how hard she has worked to get the king to consider her counsel. She quietly murmurs her thanks.

The king moves to Sybella next, and the knot in my throat grows so large that I can hardly swallow. “Lady Sybella.” His voice is low and filled with sorrow and remorse. “No matter how ill you