EMBER’S POV
There is a beat of absolute silence.
And then Queenie makes a sound like a balloon dying, one long helpless wheeze, and Nathaniel’s mouth twitches for the first time all day, actually twitches, and I have to slam my knuckles against my lips because I am going to lose it.
I am going to completely lose it, because the most feared man on the continent, the Lycan whose name empties council chambers, is standing in his own study, visibly hurt that a bunch of rogues throw eggs at a doll of him once a year.
“It’s not funny,” Knox says.
“It’s a little funny,” I manage, my voice completely strangled.
“It is not—”
“I’m sorry, I just—” I have to cover my mouth with both hands because my shoulders are physically shaking. “I’m just picturing a room full of heavily armed, lethal carte
