Free An Oath Of The Kings (Book 4) by Valerie Zambito Page A

that Mila and her son, Kellan, were together Kiernan dismissed as just that—rumor.
    “As I was saying, Your Grace, we need more grain from Bartlett if we are to keep the flocks in good health. The fat bastard has no problem asking for the wool, but when—”
    “If you will excuse me, Lord Hamilton,” Kiernan interrupted. “I must speak to my husband.” She left the flummoxed lord behind and arrived at Beck’s side just as Lady Stowe placed a hand on his arm and he leaned down to hear her words.
    Lady Stowe jumped back as though burned when she caught sight of Kiernan. “Your Grace.” She nodded politely, cheeks aflame.
    “We should take our seats,” Kiernan told Beck without acknowledging the noble. Petty, perhaps, but necessary for the girl’s sake. At least that’s what she told herself as she walked away on Beck’s arm.
    When the Court members noticed Beck and Kiernan walking to their chairs on the dais, they hastened to their seats as well.
    “Must they be here?” Lord Hamilton growled as he walked up the wide platform steps, jerking his long chin toward the two Dagarmon standing at the bottom of the stairs.
    “You may not like what they represent, Johan, but you would be the first to crouch behind them in a fight,” Duncan Bartlett taunted with a laugh.
    “The tip of a sword is all I need stand behind,” the old man declared with more bravado than Kiernan knew he actually possessed.
    Kiernan signaled to the guards in the back of the room, and they moved to seal the doors. A slight scuffle broke out as several people tried to push their way in before the doors could be properly closed, but it was quickly subdued.
    Master Asher, the royal scribe, lifted the sides of his robes and rushed up the aisle to take his position at a desk near the front to record her words for dissemination throughout the land.
    As soon as he sat, the room fell silent.
    Slowly, Kiernan rose to her feet, walked to the edge of the dais and looked out at all the faces of her people. The adoration in their eyes could not be denied and sudden emotion overwhelmed her. They loved her just as much as she loved them. It had not always been that way, or at least she wasn’t sure at one time how they felt about her, but today, at this moment, she knew. It took her a moment to clear away the raw burn lodged in her throat.
    “My fellow citizens, it is with a heavy heart that I stand before you now. Iserlohn lost a great King yesterday, and I lost a great father.” Soft murmurs of agreement spread through the crowd.
    “My father taught me early on in life about the importance of resiliency in the face of adversity and I heed that lesson today. I can tell you without hesitation that House Everard stands firm before you.” A cheer rang up from the citizens around the perimeter. “In a few moments, the noblemen and noblewomen of this land will expect me to ask them for their swords, but I will not do so.” Shocked gasps and horrified sputters of disbelief built to a low tremble. Kiernan calmly waited until a hushed silence descended once again. “No, I will not ask for their swords,” she repeated and thrust a fist in the air. “I will demand them!”
    The crowd went wild at the boldness of her statement.
    “Why do I demand? Because our King was murdered, that’s why!” Although the speculation had been there, to hear Kiernan say it out loud caused a few outraged shrieks—some from the nobles behind her.
    “Yes, murdered,” she said softly. “For no other reason than greed and envy. Someone wanted what he possessed and killed him for it. I tell you now that Iserlohn must stand firm and whole in the wake of this tragic event lest others believe that murder is an acceptable means to an end.”
    Roaring applause resounded throughout the hall, this time from all sections of the room.
    Kiernan turned around to face her father’s vassals. “It is time. Please take your places.”
    Beck came to stand next to her while the lords and