Page 60 of Obsidian Throne

My father had not yet shown up to the Council Room meeting, which already didn’t bode well for the day. Mikhail was sure to comment on his absence, sure to needle at every possible reason behind it, too.

Not for the first time, I wondered what exactly he and the others suspected or knew about my father’s condition.

The morning became even less fun when the pseudo-king himself strode in, still wearing his ridiculous ostentatious crown, along with another set of purple robes.

He took his time settling into an ornately carved chair at the head of the table before giving the rest of us permission to sit, and I swear, even his brother suppressed an eyeroll.

The long, elegant table was laden with decanters of vodka, each of them a mix of crystal and polished silver shaped like the animals of the clans that were present.

Instead of helping myself to the bear decanter, I reached forward and grabbed the long narrow one in the shape of a snake that Andreyov had just served himself from, pouring some into my own chalice.

I was well aware of the distrust in Iiro that it showed, the insinuation that he would try to poison me, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

Iiro glanced at me with something between glee and malice, making the space between my shoulders itch. I didn’t trust him or that expression.

And it hadn’t escaped my notice that I was here with only Iiro’s allies and none of my own. And that he had effectively separated me from Rowan.

For at least the thousandth time since I sat down, I reminded myself that she was armed and not half as reckless as she used to be. He wouldn’t touch a clan wife, even with only his own allies around.

She was safe.

Still, I was already on edge when he began to speak.

“I have different matters to discuss with each of you, but certainly the most pressing is taxes on imports.”

A muscle twitched in my jaw. I had wondered what form his attack was going to take. The only clan importing anything was Bear, so clearly, this was targeted. Iiro met my gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“There will now be a forty percent tax on goods that come through the pass. Naturally, this applies retroactively to the goods you have already received.”

I fought to keep my expression neutral, though fury burned through my veins. “Those weren’t all traded goods. Much of that was the princess’s dowry.”

“Nonetheless, I would hardly be a fair ruler if I allowed Bear to hoard the resources our united kingdom so desperately needs.”

“We are hardly hoarding them,” I gritted out.

It was true. We had already sent substantial amounts to at least four other clans.

“But it is well within Bear’s purview to oversee their distribution, as it is any future goods that we negotiate the purchase of.” My tone settled into a better imitation of its usual nonchalance. “The crown is, naturally, free to pursue its own negotiations.”

“That sounds rather like an un-unified clan position. We must start seeing ourselves as one,” he said sanctimoniously, making an encompassing gesture. “And you know as well as I do that even Lochlann’s food sources are not limitless. Once they give preferential trade to Bear, are the rest of us to starve?”

There were murmurs of agreement among Mikhail and Andreyev, though Korhonan’s features gave nothing away.

“Again, I’m sure negotiations can be made.” My voice was icy calm. “But Bear will not be agreeing to donate forty percent of its goods, under any circumstances.”

Iiro looked far, far too satisfied, considering I had just publicly disagreed with him, and his power was by no means secure enough to punish me for that.

“Your father has already lent his support of my initiatives.” He let that statement linger in the air before he went on. “Telling you here was a mere courtesy. He sees, as I do, that it’s more important for the whole of Socair to stay strong than to feed a few stray villagers.”

Meaning that the food would go to the armies, as I had suspected, rather than the starving women and children who needed it.

Was he lying? It was impossible to know what my father had agreed to at any given point.

But I could hardly voice that aloud, nor could I disagree with the duke of my own clan. For all the times Rowan had been furious about not having a voice, she certainly wasn’t the only one.

“He has signed off on this law?” I asked.

Iiro still needed the support of the dukes he was making laws for, at least until the other two clans accepted his rulership.