‘I should have let my brother kill you!’ Astrid cried over her shoulder as the guards led them away.

The man pursed his lips at this, as if weighing her words. ‘Yes, Princess. I really do think you should have. Still, we all make mistakes, don’t we?’

‘Come to bed,’ Queen Favner said, patting the pillows beside her. She was sitting up, surrounded by countless cushions. Her hair hung down over the front of her shoulders and the white, high-necked gown she was wearing. She smiled and beckoned to him from across the room.

A shiver ran through Glaeverssun. The thought of marrying this woman repulsed him. The queen was deranged, he had no doubt about that. He’d watched her slow decline as her wits deserted her over the last year or so and she was getting worse.

He had managed to turn the situation to his advantage, of course. King Mirvar, uneasy at rumours coming out of this region, had sent him here as an emissary. He had no doubt that Favner had committed wicked and terrible deeds on her way to the throne, and these acts had corrupted her soul and left her grip on reality broken. Instead of reporting this to his king, however, he’d kept the information to himself and had used his visits to wheedle his way into her affections. She trusted him more than many of those in her own court.

When he had come to her following his exile from Stromgard, Queen Favner had listened to his story of betrayal and treachery, and quickly come to his defence. The marriage proposal had come from her – but the seed had been planted by him long ago.

‘Bed?’ she suggested again.

‘Not now.’ He turned his attention to the black blade. The sword sat on the table, still sheathed. He’d not plucked up the courage to pick it up yet, but he knew it was a weapon of great power. What had the boy called it? Dreadblade. It was a weapon that, wielded by someone like him, could make his dreams of controlling all six Volken kingdoms come true.

‘You haven’t looked at me since my men brought you that dreadful sword,’ Favner said. ‘I think –’ a small smile curved her lips – ‘yes, I think I will have it taken away and thrown into a lake somewhere.’

Her eyes widened when he spun round to face her, a furious expression on his face. ‘You will do no such thing!’ he said. ‘This weapon will be the start of Vorneland’s rise to power. It will bring my – our – enemies to their knees. It will elevate us to new heights, and—’