Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Her heart skipped a little at knowing her son was close.
“Thank you, Wallace,” she replied, then bid, “Now please, I’m certain that was an arduous journey. Take the time before the prince arrives to refresh, have a decent meal, rest.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” he murmured, bowed, and after a glance at Bram, walked out.
Mercy glanced at Bram as well, before turning back to the window.
“Cassius and Elena?” she asked.
“They should arrive on the morrow,” Bram answered.
Excellent.
“Aramus and Ha-Lah?” she continued.
“We received word that their ship meets with part of Aramus’s armada at the mouth of Great Wohd. They should sail down it and be here no later than the day after tomorrow. Along with The Drakkar of Lunwyn, his Winter Princess and their dragons.”
Most excellent.
She looked forward to meeting The Drakkar and his Ice Princess. She’d heard much of them both.
More, she looked forward to seeing his dragons.
“Mars and Silence?” she carried on.
“They are at a show some children are performing for them today at a school.”
This surprised her, so she turned her head to look at Bram who stood to her right, but behind her.
“A children’s performance?”
Bram’s lips twitched. “Word got ’round that they’ve been busy in the city these past days. The children’s teacher put forward the invitation. Silence accepted. And what Silence wishes, Mars provides.”
That large, fearsome man did seem to be incredibly smitten with her niece.
And they had, indeed, been busy.
Bram, just the day before, had to ask Mars to stop deluging every museum and library they visited with donations. That king and his queen had even stopped at a place that looked after stray dogs, of all things, and had given them three gold coins out of his own purse, for the gods’ sakes.
He was overshadowing the donation True had made to the hospital that looked after Wodell’s wounded soldiers, and True’s support had not been insignificant in the slightest.
“King Mars, sitting and watching children sing,” she murmured, allowing some amusement to sound in her voice.
Bram did not hide his amusement. He grinned widely.
“They are the talk of the town, or will be, until True and Farah arrive.”
True.
And Farah.
She turned her attention again to the window.
“Is all in place?” she asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“It has been checked?”
“And double checked, and triple, my queen. It took me about five minutes to turn Carrington’s secretary. He detests his superior. Told me he’d been hoping for years someone would cotton on to this and ask about it.”
“Would that he hoped so much he came forward with the knowledge,” she noted.
“And be sacked or worse?” Bram asked, before he explained, “For as you know, the king has not ever given indication he’d wish to hear a word said against his advisor.”
This was a good point.
Mercy did not belabor it.
Bram went on, “There is no evidence of a link to the Go’Doan. But there is a solid trace of embezzlement. It’s indisputable. He’s been stealing for ten years.”
“The royal auditors?”
“I looked at the documents myself, Your Grace. They had no idea it was happening. Every chit is signed by the king. They could only assume each withdrawal was at the request of their monarch. Carrington could be forging his signature, and I am no expert, but I looked closely, and if he is, he has a skilled forger’s hand. Regardless, they are so true to the king’s own mark, if I were an auditor, I would not question it and not only because it’s not my place to question the king.”
Mercy drew in a delicate breath.
Then she nodded.
“In other words, all is in place. It is time,” she said.
“Yes,” Bram agreed, and she could feel him preparing to move with her.
She waylaid him with, “One thing.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
She hesitated, staring at the beauty of her realm, the gently rolling waters of the river. The winding lanes and jumble of quaint buildings. The hustle of carts and carriages, horses and foot traffic.
All her son’s.
All Mercy’s.
And soon to be…
All hers.
“Do you like her?”
“Sorry?”
She turned fully to her son’s man.
“Do you like her?” she repeated.
Bram studied his queen’s face.
Then he said, “Yes. She is funny, and she is kind. She is also savvy. Her grief for her mother was quiet and reflective, not dramatic and attention-seeking. However, it stated clearly she has a large capacity to love.” He paused before he stated, “And she loves him, Your Majesty. It is budding, but it is true. She looks upon him as if he is her whole world, and in a way, with the loss of her mother, he is. Even so, she gives in a way she does not wish to take. She makes him laugh.” Another pause before he concluded, “She is perfect for him, my queen.”
“And my son?” she whispered.
He gave her a small smile. “He’s been lost to her since Firenze.”
“She will make him happy.” It was a statement meant as a question.