I accepted their pledges and dismissed them. No caste would be welcome in the royal palace until some time elapsed and I sent my spies to test their loyalty. There might be more chaos on the horizon, more structural reorganization necessary before I could be content with the strength of my rule in the city.
Heartsblood, the Imaron knight, came last. He was a little smaller than Greydusk, but otherwise indistinguishable apart from the aura of tangible power he radiated. “You have shown my caste great honor,” he said in greeting.
He dropped to his knees without being asked. I read fear in his alien face and a silent question. Greydusk had been serving me faithfully since the beginning; would I reward him for that? It was not beyond the realm of possibility that I would wrest power away from Heartsblood and bestow it upon my favorite—a capricious decision, yes, but one worth considering. In ages past, I would’ve done it without a second thought. I let the knight kneel in terror for several long moments while I regarded him thoughtfully.
“How would you reward one such as Greydusk? He is my right hand.”
“There is no higher honor,” Heartsblood rejoined.
Ah, clever. I decided I liked this Imaron. With five slim words, he intimated that his own station was already lesser than the one Greydusk had attained through his own merits, and therefore an insult to him, should it be offered as a prize. In the same breath, he honored me; the compliment was well crafted—masterful, truly.
Amusement shone in my expression. “You are kind to say so.”
“I would swear my oath, if it pleases Your Majesty.”
“It does.”
He was quick again, this time when he knew the right words without my prompting. Heartsblood trotted them out as if he had been studying, but with every indication of sincerity. When he finished, I said, “On your feet, Knight of the Imaron. I am pleased with your alacrity. In time, I will host a ball to inaugurate this glorious new era. Until then, be watchful on my behalf and report anything that troubles you.”
“Do you expect insurgency, Your Majesty?”
Here, I hesitated. While his wit was pleasing, I didn’t trust him. “It is always best to anticipate trouble. That way one may be surprised for the better and prepared for the worst.”
The Imaron knight flashed a mouthful of teeth. “Spoken like a true queen.”
“You will keep your finger on the city’s pulse?”
“I swear it.”
I dismissed Heartsblood then. Perhaps he esteemed me enough to keep his word on that alone; and if not, then gratitude might do it. I could have replaced him with Greydusk, knowing his loyalty was absolute. Instead, I chose to give Heartsblood an opportunity to prove himself. That might be all the rope I needed to hang myself, but I couldn’t rule this city without allies. Some would come through fear, others through respect.
Deep weariness trembled in my muscles. I glanced at the Hazo standing motionless on either side of my throne. They must be exhausted too; it had been a long day—and how odd that I would consider such a thing.
“Go to your barracks now,” I said. “I am retiring from the public eye. Clear the hall and the antechamber. I’ll see no one else today.”
Mustering the last vestige of regal dignity, I swept from the throne room and down the hall. Demons on their hands and knees already, scrubbing the tiles to a high shine, lowered their faces so they could see nothing but the hem of my robe. I missed the freedom of the trousers and boots I’d worn on the streets, but since I wouldn’t be engaging in personal combat, I bowed to tradition and wore more impressive, ceremonial garb while holding court.
Deep down I hated it.
Some parts of this, I loathed. Unexpected, that. I’d thought once I pulled together the shambles of my court, the painful dissatisfaction would fade. But it hadn’t. With a soft sigh, I went to my rooms to change.
The future lay before me, surprisingly bleak and endless. I don’t want to be queen. I want—the thought was too foreign for me to finish. It didn’t even feel like my thought. My head ached in the worst way, and I dug my knuckles into my temples. Nausea rose to accompany the pain. I didn’t know how long I sat like that, but a soft touch on my shoulder roused me.
My vision was spotty. I turned, wondering what they needed now. “Yes?”
“You don’t look good.” Shannon sat down across from me; she and Chance were the only ones who entered my rooms without knocking. “Headache? I guess you can’t get Aleve here.”
“No.” And I feared taking a demon remedy. It might affect my human body in some unpredictable way. In time, I would deal with that problem, research reliable magickal alternatives. And I needed to think about the question of aging, as to how it pertained to the three of us. Demons had much longer natural life spans.
“Have you been avoiding me?” That was like her, some distant part of me recalled. Not letting anything get in her way. And I respected her for it.
“Definitely not. There’s just so much to do.”
But I had been, because I didn’t want her to realize how different I’d become.
“Are you sure it’s not because of Jesse?”
For a moment I didn’t even know what she was talking about. Then the memories filtered through: a tall, lean cop with a cowboy’s walk, tawny hair, and a Texas drawl. But I didn’t feel much of anything about her being with him. He didn’t belong to me. Never had.
“Honestly, I don’t mind at all.” I dug deep for some memories and the pain in my skull eased. “I was never really with him anyway. Not like you.”
“But he was into you. Not me. I just walked into the vacancy.”
That sparked a stronger response, a chemical reaction in my tired brain. The pain blossomed into a full shift, and suddenly I was on the right side of the glass, no longer screaming in silence. Oh, gods and goddesses, I’m me again.
“There must’ve been something, Shan. Maybe he focused on me because I was suitable. You’re the one he’s not allowed to have without people judging.”