Eagle’s Nest, two words she would remember forever. A children’s story that made Hannah feel almost silly. She was sure she had heard the same tale when young—but hadn’t realized it held truth.
“Give him the coin.” Then she moved to perch on the edge of the stage. “Everyone leave us. Sir, would you care to join me?”
He did, and while he settled himself after dusting the edge of the stage with a lace kerchief, he watched her. His phony smile remained, but despite his foppish manners and insincerity, she found she liked him. He was over thirty, but not by much. He had led a privileged life, but she noted several scars on his hands. He’d worked in his lifetime—or learned to fight with a stern teacher.
After allowing her time to examine him, he stood again, bowed from the waist, and said, “I believe we are related.”
“In what way?” Her skepticism was enough to draw her back to reality.
“Your mother and my mother were sisters, mine far younger. Other than parents and children, I think that is about as close as two people can be.”
Her senses were on full alert. He wanted something. “You earned your gold coin by betraying your King, what do you want from me?”
He held the coin up to face-level and slowly spun it around, allowing the light to glisten off it. “Beautiful,” he said. Then, when she was totally unprepared, he tossed it at her.
Reflexes made the grab.
He was still smiling. “King Edward has been a thorn in my foot since we were small. Even as a boy, he was hateful and spiteful. He was destined to be King, and I a leech to depend on his graces for my every meal.”
“You did this to get even?”
“That will never happen, but as luck would have it, I was blessed with an innate sense to determine when someone is lying. I developed and used that skill to gamble. Despite my meager and humble beginnings, over time I amassed nearly as much gold as my King. Eventually, I loaned him gold to pay his costs for the war he refused to end, and I still own more gold than people believe exists.”
That explained the odd looks from King Edward to him—but she still didn’t know his name, and his story sounded as fanciful as his clothing.
As if reading her mind, he said, “I am Tranter, only son of the late Lady Ellsworth. It’s all in that scroll you held, you and I, and our relationship.”
“How far are we from sitting on the throne?” The words escaped before she could hold them back.
“Ah, you wish to be the Queen of two kingdoms? Well, that isn’t going to happen unless about a hundred people who are listed above us were to die. And before you think too badly of me, I do not like my King which I have told him many times. I wish for a peaceful, prosperous land to live in, and I have twice traveled to Wren and enjoyed it immensely. We met once, you know, at the Earl’s Castle. Your mother was married, but raising you alone for reasons she didn’t explain.”
The entire conversation blanketed her in a mass of confusing thoughts. She’d come to request help, not overthrow a King. She had not expected to locate family, and if she had, it wouldn’t be the dandy of a man sitting beside her.
She shifted positions, and in the process, her left hand moved across the hilt of the knife at her waist. Tranter’s hand slipped closer to the hilt of a knife he wore hidden inside his waistband. Hannah only noticed it when he moved to protect himself.
It was the action of one well-trained in warfare and fighting. He had earned the scars on his hands while learning to fight. A practice sword slipping past a guard left those types of scars, all on the outside of his fingers, on both hands. Expert swordsman.
“Why did you agree to come here and meet with me?”
He said, “Calverton is my home. Peermont used to be a wonderful valley, a good place to live. It can be again. With your help.”
She leaped to her feet and stuck out her hand to shake. “And with yours, cousin. How would you go about ending this damnable war?”
“I like your plan.”
“Mine?”
He rolled his eyes as if she was a child. “In short, take the Peermont Army across Eagle’s Nest and secure your crown. When that is accomplished, send them back accompanied with troops of your own, if that becomes necessary.”
“Necessary? Why wouldn’t it?”
“Because you will realize that in me, you have an emissary you can dispatch to the King of Ansel to negotiate a treaty. Ansel has barely managed to defeat Peermont to the degree they have, but if Wren allies with Peermont, Ansel cannot possibly win. Their King might learn your plans of both a sea invasion and one by land. A greedy Queen like yourself might see that she can rule three kingdoms instead of one.”
“I don’t want to do that.”
“He does not know what you want, or what you’re capable of doing. Remember, I earned my wealth by knowing the weaknesses of others. I believe that if properly explained to the Ansel dog of a King, he will quickly agree to sign a peace treaty. Of course, we will give him a worthless portion of the lowlands so he may claim his great victory to his people. He may give us a worthless section of upland so we may claim the same.”
“You really are good at this.”
“I am. I believe it is a family trait.”
Hannah paced the room several times, keeping an eye on Tranter and trying to determine if he was like all he projected—or was he after something else. She reviewed their conversation, point by point, and couldn’t convince herself that her plans and his meshed so perfectly.
The Role of Succession would easily establish their roots, but she was concerned with more than that. Princess Elenore had spent half a dozen years searching for, and sending assassins, to locate and kill Princess Hannah so Elenore could be crowned as Queen of Wren. Hannah spent years of slinking around, avoiding all but the most trustworthy, fleeing across a sea, and scared for her life at any new or unexpected noise.
Mages had watched, offered rewards, and cast spells. Gold exchanged hands. All girls near her age had been sequestered and questioned. The search had expanded to new lands, always with the single purpose of killing Hannah.
She didn’t think of herself as vengeful, but she had a temper, and she had reached her tipping point years ago. Her cousin, Princess Elenore, and those who supported her actions would pay. Now, for the first time, she had a lead that might take her to Elenore and Jeffery—and if the man known as the young mage was still alive after his swim in the sea, she might attempt to kill him again.
But it was more than personal. They had created a faction that opposed the King of Wren, forcing an underground revolution. Royalty took sides. People died, including her King, his son, and her father and then her mentors. If anyone stood in opposition to the revolution or supported Hannah, they often died in accidents.
She said, “Do you really believe you can sign a treaty with Ansel?”
Tranter nodded and waited for a breath before speaking. “Their King won’t have a choice with our two kingdoms combined. You take me for an ambitious fool but consider my circumstances and how I’ve thrived. I will take on this task, not for you, but for my homeland and family. Within these halls are fifty who share my blood—and yours. I will do it for them.”
The humor had fled along with the impish smirk. The man she spoke with now was different, despite the outlandish clothing. She believed him. “What do we do now?”