Gambit of the Glass Crowns: Vol. I of epic fantasy The Sundered Kingdoms Trilogy (25 page)

Bronwen sat in bed next to her husband. He had not touched her in several nights. She certainly did not mind, but she found it odd. Perhaps what Mara overheard was true? If Alric was indeed dying, he may not have the stamina to engage her in the marriage bed.

If that were true, she knew she must find some way to entice him. Were he to be dead within so short a time, her being with child was the only way she could keep her throne. That would at least bide her time until the child was born. If it were a son, she would be able to keep the title of queen dowager and rule in the boy’s stead until he was of age.

She still concerned herself with what Mara could have meant when she spoke of fate and pieces which fell into place. Bronwen did not like secrets being kept from her, but she also knew Mara to have always had her best interest in mind, no matter which actions Mara carried out in order to fulfill her needs.

Now that Connor was gone from Cærwyn, forever, as far as she was concerned, she could take her powers as queen to their limits. Alric already did everything in his power to please her. With his nephew gone, all of his attention would be on her, which gave her the opportunity she had waited for. She would have him doing her bidding before the month was over. It would be she who sat on the throne, with Alric as a mere figurehead.

If Alric were to die and she was without child, she must be prepared for every possible outcome. Rhodri would inherit Alric’s throne.

Was this what Mara spoke of earlier? If Alric were to die, and Rhodri was without wife, Bronwen could be Rhodri’s queen and not Alric’s. The thought pleased her immensely. She must speak with her father immediately.

Alric still slept soundly, and she knew she must not wake him. She slowly slid the heavy blankets back and slithered out of the bed. Not bothering with her mantle, she crept across the bare floor in her shift. As she gripped the handle of the door, she glanced back at her husband. He still slept. Ever so softly, she opened the door and stepped out into the drafty hallway.

Bronwen practically ran to her father’s room in the guest quarters. Once she reached his door, she knocked softly but rapidly upon the wood. She heard the sound of his blankets rustle about. Footsteps soon followed, and he opened the door.

“Bron‌—”

“Be quiet!” she whispered, pushing him back into the room and shutting the door.

“What is the matter at this late hour?”

“There are matters of great import which we must discuss.”

“What matters?” He sat on the bed while she sat in the chair across from him.

“Regarding the high king.”

Bronwen seemed to have gotten Braith’s attention who, until this point, had still been half asleep.

“Alric? Has something happened?”

“Not yet.”

“What do you speak of, child?”

“It would seem there are those who speak of the King’s death coming to him at a far greater pace than we once thought.”

“Those who plot against the King are treasonous.”

Her father seemed genuinely angered at the thought of harm coming to Alric. An honorable man, and a generous husband to her, Alric earned her father’s admiration despite the tremulous ties between the kingdoms.

“They do not plot against him, father,” Bronwen corrected him.

Braith looked at her, confused.

“Have you not noticed the King’s dwindling health?”

“Of course, daughter, it is a hard thing not to notice. He has grown so weak, it would seem.”

“Mara overheard Duke Gweliwch. He does not believe the King will live past a fortnight.”

“Are you yet with child?”

“No, my courses have come upon me.”

“Damn! A son is your only‌—”

“Not necessarily.”

“Of what do you speak?”

“Should Alric die without a son, Duke Rhodri would take the throne as heir presumptive, and the Lady Siana’s death has left him without a queen.”

“Aye.”

She looked at her father’s face, eyes wide in surprise. Did he not think her so ambitious?

“You managed to convince Alric to wed me, for the good of his people. Rhodri thinks in much the same way as his uncle.”

“So you want me to insist on his marriage to you upon Alric’s death?”

“Yes.”

“For the good of the people, of course.”

“Of course, father.”

Braith sat silently for some time.

“You are to return to Annwyd on the morrow. Would you not sleep more soundly with the knowledge I will sit on the throne after Alric’s passing?”

“I will do everything in my power to help you with such a marriage,” Braith assured her. “We must show the people that Cærwyn and Annwyd are a united force.”

“I thank you, father.” Bronwen took a breath, deep in thought about marriage to Rhodri. In a moment of fleeting altruism, she also agreed it would be in the best interest of her people were Annwyd and Cærwyn’s political ties even closer than they were at present. And, were she able to wrap Rhodri around her finger as easily as she had his uncle, she would be the one to rule the kingdom.

Everything seemed to be falling into place as she left her father’s room and quietly walked back to her quarters.

Kendric trudged down the hall toward the senatorial annex of Castle Rotham, the heavy heels of his boots pounding against the stone floor. With every step, he delayed the unknown. Never had he received a summons from Vaughn Garanth, so he had no idea what to expect when he reached the old man’s quarters.

He stopped just outside the door, his boot skidding across the stones. His hands instinctively made their way to his hips, to the hilts of the daggers kept on either side of his belt.

Shit! I have to be more careful.

His grip on the daggers loosened as he took a deep breath, lifting his hand to rap on the door three times in rapid succession.

From within the room, he heard the muffled sounds of Senator Garanth. The old man’s footsteps sounded heavy and downtrodden, thumping toward the door in time with the click-clack of his walking staff. Only when the shadows of his feet stretched out beneath the door did the shuffling stop, replaced by the harsh sound of metal scraping against metal. The door lurched open, and Senator Garanth stood before him.

“Ah, come in, Senator Pahne.”

“I was surprised by your invitation.” Kendric walked into the room and closed the door with the quietest of gestures.

“Do not be alarmed, I merely wish to speak with you. Please, sit with me.” Vaughn waved to the chair across from his own, before the fireplace.

Kendric sat, trying to seem calm, but he learned from his father never to trust another Annwydian Senator. Not that his father ever mentioned the Garanth House by name, although his father did show considerable disdain for the Boraste family.

Despite the Senator’s supposed equality, Senator Garanth’s authority over the Magisters made him arguably more powerful than the others, as even the Senators were not above the laws of the kingdom. That alone would have been enough to frighten him.

“Forgive me, but I do not understand the need for such subterfuge, my Lord Garanth.” Kendric sat, draping his dark, blood red cloak over the arms of the chair like wings.

“One could never make the argument you are not fond of bold gestures.”

Senator Garanth’s tone surprised Kendric. It became clear the older man was impressed with him, but Kendric did not know why.