mages today. Simon is convinced, so I think they've ganged up on Nathan."
"Nearly there," Daniel murmured, offering me a smile.
But we were still all tense. Nothing was promised. Not after my mother's shock at Thomlinson's revelation. An uncomfortable twist of shame sometimes wormed through my belly now, and drinking the tea in the morning made me nauseous. I was certain that I'd made the right choice for myself, but doubts about whether or not it was best for Kimmery were beginning to creep in. I did want children. If it secured the crown??/p>
"Bryony."
The queasy feeling in my stomach vanished as I looked up over Wendell's shoulder, Aric marching fast down the hall, Owen and Cosmo fast behind.
"The queen has called for an audience," Aric said.
I stood frozen for three full heartbeats, stunned by the announcement. I'd expected my mother to remain sequestered, even to perhaps reemerge and pretend that there had been no conflict in the first place.
"Oh, come on!" Morgan barked from behind us. "Don't you want to know?"
I wasn't sure that I did, but her shouting did the trick and I hurried forward, Wendell's hand clutched tight in mine.
"Where?" I asked Aric.
"Throne room."
I sucked in a breath. A real audience then. Had she already made her decision? I wasn't sure if that boded well for me. But no, Morgan had said she'd been resisting the efforts to persuade her to name Camellia. There had to be hope still.
My heart was pounding faster and louder in my ears than our footsteps on the tile. The halls weren't empty, they grew thick with courtiers the closer we got to the throne room. It was one of the oldest rooms in the castle, part of an older building with darker stone, and I could only recall seeing my mother and grandmother in it once or twice before. It was where coronations took place, significant proclamations.
Ones like which of two princesses would be named successor.
Thomlinson was already there at the front of the room, but my mother had ten of her Chosen around her, ensuring he couldn't bend to her ear in this moment. Her eyes met mine as I walked up the center aisle of the room, galleries of seating on either side, filled with nobles. I wanted to feel hope at my mother's look, but there was an uncharacteristic blankness, steel even, so I bowed my eyes and reached her dais, sinking into a deep curtsey, feeling the shadow of my Chosen bowing at my back.
"Your Majesty."
"You may stand," Mother said delicately, and her hand gestured to my right, opposite Thomlinson and Sir Weston and some of the other councilmen.
The air seemed thick around me, my movement sluggish, and I wondered if everyone in the room could hear the labor of my breath as my Chosen and I moved to the side. Wendell had a hand on my elbow, steadying me. Thao gripped my waist, reminding me to stand tall. Cresswell stood ever so slightly in front and to the side, prepared to leap in as a shield. The others were close, their touches grazing my back, the waistband of my fencing pants, reminding me of their support.
My mother's eyes remained forward, watching the doorway, and it wasn't until Camellia appeared, thin and ghost pale, eyes red and a rosy pink dress nearly hanging off of her, that I realized I'd been holding my breath.
Camellia's stride was quick and stiff, her shoulders pinched in close to her ears. There were men at her back, but they seemed as little aware of her as she did of them, as if they only followed out of force of habit.
"Do you think this summons interrupted the doctor?" Daniel whispered, but none of us knew the answer.
Camellia's curtsey was quick, head bowing, a murmured greeting passing through clenched teeth.
"Daughter," my mother said again and I thought she would dismiss Camellia as she had me, but she sat forward on her throne. "Do you want the crown, Camellia?"
Camellia blinked at my mother, head jerking back a little. "Of course."
"Tell me why?"
The whisperings of the court died. Neither my mother or Camellia were bothering to lift their voices, and the entire room held its breath to listen.
Camellia's gaze flashed to the council first, and then to me, narrowing. She forced a smile for my mother, an imitation of simpering that was more of a grimace. "To serve Kimmery with the great strength of my Hunger, Your Majesty." She curtseyed again, and perversely, the room clapped for