The King's War

12. Threats

NATHANIEL

Everyone was assembled in the cabinet room. The dukes with their anxious faces, Melanie with her eager readiness, and Frost with his cocky grin. He wouldn't be grinning for long once the guest of honor showed up.

I was worried that after she vanished the other night that Daphne Sinclair wouldn't show, but she'd made good on her promise. She'd appeared in my office while I was busy reading my emails and scared me half to death.

I'd taken the chance and asked her who'd contracted her to kill me, but she'd been tight-lipped on the subject. I resigned to solving that mystery later. Right now I had an emissary to deal with.

"I'd like to thank all of you for joining me here tonight," I began. "I believe I've come up with a solution that will benefit everyone in the long run."

The dukes scrutinized me, Balthazar in particular. Calm down old man, I thought. I'm doing exactly what you told me to.

Frost looked skeptical despite his placid smile. "King Abel and I have been awaiting your response with utmost eagerness."

My lips tightened in response. "Yes, I'm sure you have. But before I say anything else, there's someone I want you all to meet. You especially, Mr. Frost." Frost frowned, regarding me warily. I turned towards the door. "Please come in, Miss Sinclair."

"The Queen?" I heard someone whisper, and I couldn't help but smile. They may share a last name, but they were two very different women.

The doors to the conference room burst open so wide they threatened to blow off of their hinges. Behind them stood Daphne, who glanced confidently around the room before striding in and taking a stand behind me.

Murmurs erupted among my councilmen. James caught my eyes and shook his head slowly, his face grim. Balthazar blinked, looking both impressed and curious. Frost simply sat frozen, his face drained of all color. He'd met Sheridan and could see the family resemblance. They all could.

I gestured to the witch. "This, as I'm sure you've already guessed, is Daphne Sinclair. The very same witch whose deeds are on everyone's lips. You're probably wondering why she's here. I'll let her explain."

Daphne took another glance around the room before speaking. "I've agreed to lift the spell on New Orleans and to stand aside so that order may be restored to the South and its surrounding territories," she began, meeting my gaze directly. "On the condition that I choose who rules and that no action be taken against me for toppling the old regime."

This wasn't what we'd agreed to. The South would not like that at all. But... if that's what was necessary to ensure her cooperation, so be it. I looked towards Frost, who appeared to be trying to rein in his anger. I looked pointedly at him. "If King Abel or anyone else intervenes, they will be dealt with swiftly. If you do not heed this warning, the consequences will be dire."

The emissary glared back at me with open contempt. "So you've managed to turn the witch into your personal attack dog. Bravo."

The witch —it felt wrong to use her name, somehow— strode over to him and leaned in close to his face. "Maybe I'll get my point across better if I sent the King of Texas your head in a box." Frost stiffened, but to his credit said nothing.

"That won't be necessary, will it Mr. Frost?" I asked, unable to keep the smirk off of my face. Seeing the emissary knocked off balance felt so good.

"Certainly not," Frost said, smoothing his tie. He stood up. "Your message has been received loud and clear. Good night, Your Majesty." He spat the words out and strode out of the room with utmost haste.