The maid continued, explaining the risks. After all, Quinlan just claimed he was leaving three hours ago, and that he did not know when he'd return. "He could flee. He could turn against us. He could vanish and leave Elvardia holding a bill paid to the Covenant for nothing."
The queen's eyes went wide. Her lips parted. Her head tilted. The expression on her face was that of a woman who had genuinely, truly, not once considered this possibility.
Verenthia's gaze flattened. She had known this queen for far too many years to eat the act up. This woman was messing with her.
"My queen."
Myrasyn held the expression for three more seconds, then let it dissolve into a grin.
"Old friend. You should consult the royal elven library and look up the definition of the word 'bet,' which was exactly what I have called this decision of mine on four separate occasions."
Verenthia stared at her.
The stare lasted a long time.
"You are insufferable," the maid said.
"I am your queen."
