The Emperor of Arindale was a man who, when backed into a corner, did not gracefully surrender. He looked for a softer target.
With his eldest son holding the military and the treasury hostage, and his new daughter-in-law sitting on a velvet throne right beside him, the Emperor turned his wounded, festering pride toward the one person in the palace who still flinched when he raised his voice.
"Prince Beckett has been summoned to the Emperor's private study," Caspian reported, slipping into the royal bedchamber and closing the heavy oak doors quickly behind him. "And the Dowager Duchess of Kent has also been called for."
Aeron, who was sitting in a leather armchair polishing a ceremonial dagger, stopped.
Kaia looked up from the velvet settee where she was reading. "The Dowager Duchess of Kent? She is sixty years old and famously carries a riding crop to strike servants who step out of line."
