It was unlikely a happy coincidence that these were the very two men his mind had gone to when considering who might’ve ordered the assassination of Queen Echevaria. And now, here they were, standing on his dais while the throne sat empty. “Clear the room,” Tomas demanded. When no one moved, he repeated himself, not raising his voice, but speaking more slowly so there could be no confusion. “Clear. The. Room.”

Feet began to shuffle, dresses swishing from the women and sturdy boots clopping on the stonework from the men. Gideon and Skinner started down the steps, but as soon as they reached the bottom, Tomas said, “Not you,” and then proceeded up until he was looking down at them.

“Your Highness?” Lord Gideon said, while Lord Skinner only offered a smirk, using a hand to comb several locks of golden hair away from his eyes.

“Where is the king?”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Lord Gideon said, though he didn’t sound like he hated it at all. “But your father has taken ill.”

This was concerning, of course, but Tomas didn’t allow it to reach his expression, which held firmly as the stern and unwavering glare of a monarch-in-training, a look he’d perfected in the mirror a long time ago. “And while he’s been bedridden, you’ve…what? Held court on his behalf? Rallied your supporters in the court of public opinion? Positioned yourselves while presuming me dead?” His tone was scathing, just shy of berating, although Tomas knew his mood was sour enough that if pushed, he could easily lose his temper, something he wouldn’t shy away from in this one particular instance.

Skinner’s smile remained plastered on his face, while Gideon’s false concern only seemed to deepen. “My gods, no, Your Highness. We were just making plans to secure your rescue,” Gideon said.

“Rescue from whom?”

“Why, the Kinkallians, of course. When we received their missive, we could only assume that you were their prisoner.”

If the man was lying, he gave no sign. Not to mention any deceit could be uncovered as easily as speaking to any one of the other members of the court that had been present a moment earlier. “They explicitly stated I was their prisoner and demanded what? A ransom?”

“Not exactly. They stated that you’d assassinated Queen Echevaria and demanded that blood be met with blood. We assumed, wrongly it seems, that you had been captured.”

“I didn’t murder my mother.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Skinner said, his first words since Tomas had crashed their little highborn party. As usual, they were heavy with sarcasm. “Boldness isn’t exactly in your nature though, is it?”

“You will address me as—”

“Your Highness,” Skinner said quickly, as if he’d always planned to say it but just hadn’t been given the chance.