that my lack of peerage had anything to do with Thomlinson's disdain.
"We here on the council have the most gratifying and sacred duty of safeguarding the interests of the crown and championing progress in Kimmery. With the dowager queen now, most mournfully, deceased," Thomlinson droned with a hand over his heart, "we are a generation shorter on the queen's line. And as I'm sure you're all aware, there is some dispute as to the…succession of our next queen."
Fuck. I sat up straighter, hands gripping hard at the arms of my seat, my eyes tracking the slow passage of Thomlinson's notes from one pair of hands to the next.
"Is there, my lord?" Sir Weston growled.
"Well, naturally. There is no clear tradition, nothing written, that might prevent the younger princess from taking the throne."
"And certainly nothing that would warrant Princess Bryony from being overlooked," I barked, and Jack kicked my foot briefly beneath the table.
"Of course, but that does leave the situation…sticky," Thomlinson said with the kind of magnanimous smile that only meant a man was up to something truly despicable.
"Does it? There's absolutely no reason to suspect Queen Peony won't name her eldest successor," another man said slowly. Lord Garret was not always my ally, but he wasn't always Thomlinson's either and I respected him for that much.
"Gentleman, it is our duty to see to Kimmery's welfare. To its future prosperity. To its longevity," Thomlinson continued, a hand rolling through the air with every edition.
"Spit it out man," someone muttered.
"I'm only asking that we vote that no princess be named successor until she has provided an heir to the queen's line," Thomlinson said, grinning in his false and friendly manner.
My stomach dropped to the floor. No, to several stories down from this meeting room. Jack sat up a little straighter at my side, and I think he understood the same danger I did. This could pass. It was already on the men's faces, as they glanced at one another. Even the ones who supported Bryony might not find this too abhorrent a measure.
There were eyes on my face, I could feel their stare boring in and I glanced up. Sir Weston was staring back at me, yes, worry in his gaze, but it was Thomlinson and his ugly grin who was really watching me.
"What does Queen Peony say of this?" I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting the others to hear it too.
"She could hardly object," Thomlinson said.
I arched an eyebrow, trying to keep a lid on my panic. "So you haven't even mentioned this to her."
"She is mourning, my good fellow."
Half-mourning, I corrected mentally.
"It is not unreasonable," one man said, looking over the text Thomlinson had provided. "It is securing Kimmery's crown to the queen's line."
"It is meddling a little higher above our duties than I should think the queen appreciated," Sir Weston said, taking a look around the table, trying to win back men's minds.
Stars, was Camellia already pregnant? Was that why Thomlinson looked so smug, or—
Or did he only know that Bryony was intentionally preventing herself from becoming with child still? It wasn't a single one of these men's business whether she was or wasn't, but I was almost sure a majority of them wouldn't see it that way.
"For however reasonable this measure is, it isn't a light one, Lord Thomlinson," Jack said. "The council has never involved themselves with succession."
"A queen's greatest duty, and a Chosen's highest honor, is of course providing Kimmery with an heir," Thomlinson said delicately, and a few of the men turned in my direction.
Of course. Of course he would make that dig. Camellia, whatever she was really about, certainly made an appearance of trying to get with child. Bryony, on the other hand, let her Chosen run about the palace, dealing with guards and mages and taking a seat on the council. She was political, and whether these men would admit it or not, she intimidated them.
"I propose a vote to delay," I said, holding Thomlinson's gaze, feeling a slight measure of relief at his flinch. "I agree that this is not something to be voted on lightly, and I doubt our intentions on the matter if we aren't interested in our queen's opinion."
"I second the delay," Jack said quickly.
Sir Weston and another both offered their support, and Thomlinson scowled briefly.
"You're mad, absolutely mad!" Aric growled.
"Aric, it isn't a decision I've made already," Bryony said gently.
I paused in the doorway, drinking in the sight of everyone, surprised by relief to see