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“Brothers, welcome,” said Gabriel. Whatever else could be said of the man and of his kingly ambitions, he certainly looked the part. His black hair was offset by the occasional streak of gray, and he always kept his broad chin cleanly shaven. He filled his scarlet vest quite well, and a golden trim along his white sleeves traced his shoulders perfectly.

“Why are we here?” said Meriwether. He was the smallest man in the room, yet somehow still the loudest. His voice had no trouble carrying across the table. “Our last meeting was a mere five days ago. Must you constantly seek our approval like some uncertain rube?”

“There is news of Helen Belgrant,” said Gabriel.

That last name was a particularly sore point for everyone, David knew. To him, it was a mere formality, but to his brothers, and indeed, to most members of the House Lumenbel, the name Belgrant was the one that stole the title of the Royal House of Atreya. Which wasn’t even the Belgrants’ doing, really. Helen and William had been married long before she became Queen, and the Belgrants surely never expected the marriage to make their son a king.

David remembered Helen’s ascension fondly, though he suspected no one else in this room shared that sentiment. As often as he’d been at odds with their father, appointing Helen was one of the wisest things the man had ever done, as far as David was concerned. It was also, without a doubt, the most hilarious. Gabriel had always been the pretentious, overeager fool he was to this day, and seeing him suddenly lose his right to the crown was one of David’s most cherished and satisfying memories.

So when he learned that Gabriel was responsible for the assassination attempt and subsequent departure of the Queen, David had been far from pleased. But by that point, the wheels were already in motion, and he realized that the only thing left to do was to climb aboard. And perhaps see about sabotage later.