Majesty plants her flag on a few more hills and stakes out claims on any future Stars that might fall, the Prince gains experience and credibility as future King, all the while collecting for his precious repository of knowledge, the Shadow Monarch is thwarted, and the stirrings of rebellion are smothered in their cradles. She plays a very deep game, the Queen.” Rallie’s voice was filled with obvious admiration.
Konowa locked his hands behind his back to keep himself from grabbing Rallie by her cloak. He looked for something to kick, but nothing appropriate was in the vicinity. Giving up, he paced to the left, then back, slamming his boots down so hard his spine hurt. He brought his hands back down to his sides and forced himself to stand still.
“Why. Not. Tell. Me!”
Visyna continued to glare at him. “Look at your hands.”
Konowa raised his fists, and his anger bled away as quickly as it had risen. Black frost fire wreathed his hands. Only then did he realize his breath was misting in the air and the black acorn against his chest was thrumming with cold power. He hadn’t noticed any of it.
“That, my dear Major, is our point,” Rallie said.
Chayii shook her head. “You are no longer in control of this, my son. Your anger clouds your judgment and She works Her will.” She held up her hands to forestall his protest. “You are proud, and you are strong, and you believe you can defeat Her, but you won’t. Not like this.”
Konowa wasn’t having it. “You’re wrong. I can control this. I do control it. The Prince is still alive, isn’t he?”
All three looked surprised, though it was Visyna who spoke. “And would he still be now if we hadn’t found you first? I do not see eye to eye with His Highness on most things, but he is the heir to the throne, so I try. You, on the other hand, see a few ships in the harbor and immediately go looking for a confrontation. What would you have done? You have a power you shouldn’t possess—the whole regiment does—but even they exercise more restraint than you.”
A hangover after a three-day bender with his friend the Duke of Rakestraw didn’t feel as bad as Konowa’s head did now. This really isn’t happening.
“I’m a grown elf. I lead a regiment of soldiers. I risk death and worse in service of the Empire, and yet I’m treated like a child. I’d cry, but that would only add to the agony.” Konowa pinched the bridge of his nose, checking first to ensure the frost fire was out, and shrugged his shoulders. He looked up at them. “Fine…the three of you seem to be well informed, so you tell me. What happens now?”
For an answer, Prince Tykkin strode into their midst. He was actually whistling. He placed a boot forward and doffed his shako while bending at the waist, sweeping his other arm before him. He was positively giddy, and Konowa understood why the three women had intercepted him.
He really and truly wanted to do harm to the bastard.
The Prince smiled as he stood up and fixed his shako back on his head. His face was browner and leaner, having lost the doughy-white complexion he’d had when they’d first met. It only added to Konowa’s fury to realize the sea voyage had actually agreed with the Prince’s constitution while Konowa had lost more meals than he ate.
“Ah, ladies, Major. Isn’t it a grand sight? You see, Major, there was a method to all of my meticulous planning,” the Prince said, his voice strong and assured. “It requires time to put together the men and material you see before you, and these are just the vanguard. To make all of this possible we needed time. Taking the seven islands gave us that time.”
“That time was bought in blood,” Konowa remarked.
The Prince’s smile wavered, but then brightened again. “I know, Major, and every fallen soldier will be honored. I have already written to the Royal Mint and instructed that a medal be struck commemorating the island battles. Every soldier in the regiment
Konowa locked his hands behind his back to keep himself from grabbing Rallie by her cloak. He looked for something to kick, but nothing appropriate was in the vicinity. Giving up, he paced to the left, then back, slamming his boots down so hard his spine hurt. He brought his hands back down to his sides and forced himself to stand still.
“Why. Not. Tell. Me!”
Visyna continued to glare at him. “Look at your hands.”
Konowa raised his fists, and his anger bled away as quickly as it had risen. Black frost fire wreathed his hands. Only then did he realize his breath was misting in the air and the black acorn against his chest was thrumming with cold power. He hadn’t noticed any of it.
“That, my dear Major, is our point,” Rallie said.
Chayii shook her head. “You are no longer in control of this, my son. Your anger clouds your judgment and She works Her will.” She held up her hands to forestall his protest. “You are proud, and you are strong, and you believe you can defeat Her, but you won’t. Not like this.”
Konowa wasn’t having it. “You’re wrong. I can control this. I do control it. The Prince is still alive, isn’t he?”
All three looked surprised, though it was Visyna who spoke. “And would he still be now if we hadn’t found you first? I do not see eye to eye with His Highness on most things, but he is the heir to the throne, so I try. You, on the other hand, see a few ships in the harbor and immediately go looking for a confrontation. What would you have done? You have a power you shouldn’t possess—the whole regiment does—but even they exercise more restraint than you.”
A hangover after a three-day bender with his friend the Duke of Rakestraw didn’t feel as bad as Konowa’s head did now. This really isn’t happening.
“I’m a grown elf. I lead a regiment of soldiers. I risk death and worse in service of the Empire, and yet I’m treated like a child. I’d cry, but that would only add to the agony.” Konowa pinched the bridge of his nose, checking first to ensure the frost fire was out, and shrugged his shoulders. He looked up at them. “Fine…the three of you seem to be well informed, so you tell me. What happens now?”
For an answer, Prince Tykkin strode into their midst. He was actually whistling. He placed a boot forward and doffed his shako while bending at the waist, sweeping his other arm before him. He was positively giddy, and Konowa understood why the three women had intercepted him.
He really and truly wanted to do harm to the bastard.
The Prince smiled as he stood up and fixed his shako back on his head. His face was browner and leaner, having lost the doughy-white complexion he’d had when they’d first met. It only added to Konowa’s fury to realize the sea voyage had actually agreed with the Prince’s constitution while Konowa had lost more meals than he ate.
“Ah, ladies, Major. Isn’t it a grand sight? You see, Major, there was a method to all of my meticulous planning,” the Prince said, his voice strong and assured. “It requires time to put together the men and material you see before you, and these are just the vanguard. To make all of this possible we needed time. Taking the seven islands gave us that time.”
“That time was bought in blood,” Konowa remarked.
The Prince’s smile wavered, but then brightened again. “I know, Major, and every fallen soldier will be honored. I have already written to the Royal Mint and instructed that a medal be struck commemorating the island battles. Every soldier in the regiment
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