The Crown of Embers Read Online Free Page A

Majesty,” he says. “It isn’t safe for you.”
    “Did you order the palace lockdown?” I ask, breathless from the quick climb.
    “No. The mayordomo did.”
    I peer into the conde’s face, trying to read any deception or nervousness there, but he is as preternaturally calm as always.
    “I want the gate opened,” I tell him.
    “I’m not sure that’s a good—”
    “They’re our people. Not our enemies.”
    “They’re panicked. Panicked people do horrible things.”
    “Like dropping the gate against those we’re supposed to protect?”
    His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. He leans forward, eyes narrowed, and I resist the urge to flinch away. Do not back down, Elisa. Below, the mob has quieted. They have no doubt spotted me. They’re waiting to see what I’ll do.
    Finally the conde straightens. “As Your Majesty wishes,” he says.
    I lift my chin to address the command toward the crowd. “The citizens of Brisadulce are most welcome. Raise the gate!”
    The cry echoes throughout the yard. Gears shriek as the portcullis grinds upward. The garrison soldiers make way as the people of my city rush into the yard. But the initial panic blows itself out quickly, and after a moment, everyone filters through with orderly haste. My shoulders sag with relief. Until this moment, I was only mostly sure of my decision.
    If the conde has a reaction to the quieting crowd, he does not show it, “There is much to discuss regarding today’s events,” he says.
    “Indeed,” I agree with equal calm. “I’m calling an emergency meeting of the Quorum.”
    He bows from the waist, then turns on his heel and strides away along the wall.
    I watch him go, wondering about the flicker on his face when he first saw me, at his hesitation to follow my orders. Then I turn my back on him and the crowd gathering in the courtyard to look out over my city. I need to feel wide-open space, cleaner air.
    I sense Hector beside me. He leans his elbows onto the wall so that our shoulders almost touch, and he says, “This is your first major crisis as sole monarch. You are weathering it well.”
    “Thank you.” But I clutch the wall’s edge with misgiving. I gaze out across the flat rooftops of Brisadulce. They hug the downslope like massive adobe stairs, lush with garden plants and trellises. Beyond them, the ocean horizon stretches and curves, as though someone has thumb-smeared the bottom of the sky with indigo paint. “Hector, you know how when clouds roll across the sky, everyone turns an eye toward the docks to see if the water will leap over them and flood the streets? To see if the coming storm is actually a hurricane?”
    “Yes.”
    “I fear that’s what this is. Merely the heralding surge.”

Chapter 3
    I hate Quorum meetings.
    Calling one is the right thing to do; we must deal with this incident decisively. But the lord-general and the lord-conde have been in power for decades. I’m the upstart—a seventeen-year-old queen reigning by royal decree rather than inheritance. On a good day, they talk over me as if I’m not there. On a bad one, I feel like a pesky sand chigger in danger of a swift swatting.
    I’m the last to arrive. My entourage of ladies and guards stops at the threshold, for only Quorum members are allowed inside. Mara forces an encouraging smile as I swing the huge double doors shut and slide the bolt home to lock us in.
    The Quorum chamber is low ceilinged and windowless, like a tomb. Candles flicker from sconces set in dusty mortar between gray stones. A squat oak table fills the center, surrounded by red cushions. The air is thick with unyielding silence, and I feel as though the ghosts of weighty decisions and secret councils press in around me, telling me to hush.
    Hector is already seated on his cushion, looking stern. We always arrive separately, for it would be gauche to flaunt our close association. He lifts his chin in cold greeting, giving no hint that there is any warmth between