The Reckless Reign (Book 3, The Culled Crown Series)

Chapter 40

Reubinon Palace, Pellarmus.
One week after the attack.

Britta sat at the head of the table; her palms pressed flat to the smooth wooden surface between us. Maps littered the tabletop, maps of Pellarmus, Haniver, Vayelle, and Erydia—the curling corners of them weighed down with stacks of handwritten letters and what appeared to be piles and piles of typed out transcripts. Little figurines and pins dotted each land mass and ocean, painstakingly marking each known ship or unit of troops.

I hadn't expected to be allowed to see any of this, but Britta was in the middle of sorting through the day's messages when we arrived and she didn't seem worried about hiding them from us. It was refreshing, I thought. There was a casualness to the way she cleared boxes and rolled documents from the chairs around the table, before she beckoned us to sit with her. Footman stepped forward to help her but she shooed them away, muttering something about being a fully-grown woman.

Once our places were cleared, she was back in her own seat, her expression turning focused again as she examined the letter she'd been reading. We'd only just taken our chairs on either side of the table when a maid came in and set a tray of tea and biscuits on the maps before the queen. Britta didn't even bother to look up, she was too immersed in the papers she held.

The maid spoke quietly, her Erydian stilted and shaking. "The king said you must eat."

Britta glanced up then, those blue eyes dancing with annoyance and another emotion, something softer. "I'll eat once I've finished here."

The woman pursed her lips and said, "I—I am supposed to report to him if you don't eat something now. He says you...you cannot—"

"Over do it, yes." She set her papers down on the map before her, nearly knocking over a few of the figurines as she snatched a biscuit from the tray. She made a show of adding butter and then some sort of jam. "See?" She lifted the pastry so the maid could see. "Eating." And with that, she took a bite and went back to reading.

The maid bowed once more and retreated from the room without another word—off to report to her master. Heidi and I exchanged a look, but Nadia was only smiling to herself. "You know," my friend said to the queen, "he really is right, you need to—"

Britta cut her off, her attention snapping up to us. "Sleep well?"

Heidi shifted a little uncomfortably in her chair. Britta's tone with Nadia had been curt, dismissive, but not unkind. While it was clear that Heidi and me found this a little alarming, Nadia was still smiling, unphased, as she reached forward and fixed a cup of tea.

Allies, I realized.

Nadia and Britta were already allies—friends, even.

"I slept well enough," I said.

My gaze went to the transcripts nearest my elbow. I hesitated a moment before I picked up the small stack and riffled through them. Most of the smudged typing made little sense to me, but it was clearly some sort of radio communications between the rebels in Erydian and those here in Pellarmus.

Nadia set the cup of tea in front of Britta, her lips pursed to keep her smile from turning wide as she said, "To your good health, your majesty."

Britta snorted at that and set her biscuit down on the tray. "He's such a mother hen. He fusses over me constantly. It's enough to drive me crazy."

"He loves you and wants you to rest."

Britta sighed. "Yes, well, love and resting won't win this war, will it?" She took the cup of tea from Naida and said to her, "I don't think I can bare it if you start clucking over me too."