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accept a non-heir to the throne. Do you
really believe they’d choose your gods over peace?”
    “By not accepting us, you weaken our stance
against New Hope,” Mothelamew added.
    I glanced at Lochlen, and his yellow-green eyes
met mine. His gaze gave me strength “No,” I disagreed, my eyes
flicking to the mage. “By not respecting our wishes, you weaken
yourselves.”
    “Infidels,” Eirick, a male scribe of Sadeemia,
muttered. “You seek to destroy the country we helped you
save.”
    Anger surged in my blood, and I felt it call to
the gods, to the power I’d been working hard to learn to control.
Thanks to Cadeyrn, I understood it much better than I had
before.
    My hand fisted. Through the arrow slit windows,
vines crawled, their movements sinister. Beyond the palace, wolves
howled. Thunder clapped. No rain fell, but the skies
darkened.
    “Call me an infidel if you must, sir,” I
seethed, “but remember that power doesn’t come from the strong. It
comes from the forgotten, from those who need to be heard. It comes
from ancient roots, old texts, and nature.” My free hand fisted,
and the table suddenly glowed, an ancient word appearing in the
wood. The new power startled me, and I stared at the etched
text.
    “By the gods,” Daegan gasped.
    My palm opened against the table as smoke rose
from the word.
    “What does it say?” Catriona
breathed.
    The word was Medeisian, an ancient one that was
rarely used anymore.
    “Fight?” Maeve guessed.
    “Courage?” Daegan replied.
    “No,” Cadeyrn interjected. “It means wisdom.”
The prince’s gaze moved down the table, his shoulders back, his
gaze ending on mine. “Continue this stance, and we have two wars
ahead of us. An imminent disagreement with New Hope and civil
war.”
    “You’d weaken us so?” Gryphon asked
me.
    My eyes locked with Cadeyrn’s. “Medeisia needs
a tolerant ruler, Your Majesty. It is not our goal to weaken. Give
us a ruler we can trust, and we will fight with you. We’ll die to
protect our nation and yours.”
    We stared too long, his eyes studying my face.
To those surrounding us, I hoped it looked like a power struggle
and not what it really was; unresolved feelings and differing
responsibilities.
    “I vote to remove the dragon and his consort
from the council,” Madden said suddenly.
    “Aye!” Eirick agreed.
    “Aye!” Lucrais intoned.
    Cadeyrn’s gaze remained on me, his eyes full of
unspoken words. He’d warned me this would happen. I wasn’t going to
get Sadeemian support.
    “Would you rather a war with New Hope without
the support of the Medeisians, or an internal war with the
dragons?” I asked. I was banking on their fear of the
Dracon.
    “I vote to remove the dragon and his consort
from the council!” Madden repeated, his words full of
fury.
    Cadeyrn continued to stare, his gaze finally
sliding from mine to Lochlen’s.
    “They’ll remain,” he stated. “This council is
weak. With New Hope’s threat, we cannot afford the enmity. I’ll
keep your sentiments in mind, Prince Lochlen. Until the
disagreement with New Hope can be resolved, I’ll remain in power in
Medeisia. After that, we’ll put a vote to the people.” He glanced
at me. “What you do then will be upon you.”
    I knew from his gaze that it was the best he
could do. He was doing more than he should, and I wasn’t the only
one to notice.
    “You have the right to dissolve the council now
and make your own judgments,” Mothelamew fumed.
    Cadeyrn’s gaze swung to his teacher. “And who
do you think the people of Medeisia would choose then?” he asked.
“Do you believe they’d be content swapping one dictator for
another? The council prevents civil war.”
    “This is madness,” Catriona hissed. “I’ll be
expected to return to Henderonia before the baby’s
birth.”
    Cadeyrn stiffened. “Which you shall. I’ll be
leading a delegation to New Hope to discuss Dragern’s betrayal with
my grandfather, King Brahn. We’ll make a landing