And Rhea wondered, not for the first time, if her sisters conspired to kill her. “Unto the throne of Meridan, the chair of Declan the Giver—” they said. Suki struck a surly pose and mouthed the oath. Is she even speaking? “—on the occasion of the Treaty of Sister Queens—” Did Suki scoff? No one else seemed to notice but Rhea. Iren murmured the words in her half-present monotone. “—at the close of the War of Epiphany Rising and the unification of the four kingdoms of Pelgard—” Of the three, only Cadis stood and declared as a queen and general ought to have done. But is she playacting? Wouldn’t anyone half as clever as Cadis insist on her loyalty if she intended to stab in the dark? “—we queens pledge allegiance—” And they stepped forward, one at a time, dressed in their colors, both hands on their hearts. Suki, in a yellow summer gown embroidered with the roots of the bituin tree at the hem, up into branches that curled and twisted like flames. She had fought their seamstress like a banshee eel to have a red dress.
