Red Hood's Revenge

Her family had never stooped to such drama.
    Burgundy carpeting covered the floors, woven with intricate geometric designs in gold and silver thread, now marred by large hoofprints. The pillars were trimmed in gold leaf, as were the arches supporting the high vaulted ceiling. Each section of the ceiling had been painted with an image of Lakhim’s family.
    Talia tensed as she spotted the portrait of Prince Jihab. The artist had painted him in front of the accursed hedge, sword gleaming in the sun as he prepared to cut his way into the palace.
    Danielle touched Talia’s arm and pointed to the right of the throne, where two children stood in the shadows.
    Talia’s nails dug into her fists. She could have passed her sons on the street and never would have recognized them, but who else could they be, dressed in the gold-and-green robes of nobility, their faces all but identical. They had their father’s deep set eyes and angular jaw, but their faces were narrower, reminding Talia of her own brothers. Their hair was cut short, dark bangs swirling flat against their brows. She had no idea which twin was which.
    “Talia.” Lakhim spat the name as though it were a curse. The years as queen had taken their toll. Her hair was grayer, her face more wrinkled than Talia remembered. She stood with a slight hunch, making her appear shorter. She wore a golden circlet, the crown of the haishak, the regent for the princes.
    The twins stared at Talia, fear and confusion plain on their young faces. They hadn’t recognized Talia, but it was clear they knew her name.
    Danielle jumped from the horse. “Lakhim, I am Danielle Whiteshore of Lorindar. I’ve come to discuss an end to your vendetta against Princess Talia.”
    Lakhim stared at Danielle, her expression stone. “This woman murdered my son.”
    Lakhim’s speech was heavily accented, but she spoke the language of Lorindar well enough for Danielle to understand. Danielle met her glare without flinching. “And your assassin murdered my people. Her actions resulted in the death of my stepsister.”
    “Roudette was sent to retrieve a killer and a threat to Arathea.” Lakhim glanced at Talia. “Apparently she failed.”
    “Shall we debate whose was the first sin, Lakhim?” Danielle strode forward. If Talia hadn’t known her, she never would have seen how nervous Danielle was. Her tutelage under Queen Beatrice had paid off. “What of Talia’s family, preserved with her behind the hedge? Whose hand slit their throats as they slept, killing even the smallest child?”
    Lakhim rose. “You dare—”
    “Zestan is dead,” Danielle said. “As is your assassin. Arathea has already jeopardized its friendship with Lorindar by sending a killer to our land. Would you sever that relationship altogether for the sake of vengeance?”
    The queen clasped her hands together, changing tactics. “Lorindar is a beautiful nation, but a small one.”
    “True,” said Danielle. “But Lorindar does not stand alone. Alynn and Francon of Lyskar recently found themselves in our debt. Not to mention our close ties to the undine.”
    Lakhim waved her men back a step. “You would enter my home and threaten my land? What makes you think I won’t have you both killed for this intrusion?”
    Talia brushed a hand over her cape. “What makes you think your men would survive such an attempt?”
    “You won’t.” Danielle glanced at Talia, the warning obviously meant for her as well as Lakhim. Danielle raised her wrist, tapping the mirrored bracelet. “Not while my husband listens through this glass.”
    Lakhim studied them both. Talia could almost hear her calculating the odds. Finally, she brought her hands together and said, “So long as Talia lives, she is a threat to Arathea.”
    “Rescind the sentence on Talia.” Danielle turned around, and for the first time her composure cracked. She mouthed the words I’m sorry before raising her head to say, “In exchange, Talia will renounce her claim to the throne of Arathea.”
    “No.” Talia had expected something like this, but the whisper slipped out before she could stop herself.
    “My son is dead. You would ask me to let his murderer go free?” Lakhim glanced at the princes. “You are a mother yourself, Danielle. Could you forgive the one who took your child away?”
    “Will war bring him back?” Danielle countered. “Will more death change what happened?” She stepped forward, shedding her formal court manners. “I can’t