Chapter 37
CHAPTER
Saryn was lucky to be alive, lucky that Idris hadn’t ended him the moment he learned of his treachery.
Instead, Idris insisted that Saryn return with us to Artume, to rendezvous with Gia and the princess.
His decision seemed illogical to me, but I had a suspicion I was about to see his calculations unfold firsthand as Princess Embry lunged into her mate’s arms.
“Lazarus,” she cried, happy tears beginning to roll down her cheeks as Saryn embraced her. Idris had spared him any restraints as a courtesy, but had instructed Varro to subdue him at any indication of escape.
“Lazarus…” Idris repeated slowly, letting the syllables roll off his tongue with a velvety-smooth cadence. “I haven’t heard your born name in a very, very long time.”
Idris folded his hands idly in front of himself. “Not since you took your oath. And yet, here we are, the heir to the southern kingdom saying it with such wanton passion.”
Embry pulled back from Saryn’s embrace, but held his elbow tightly, protectively.
“I don’t care what name you call him,” she seethed.
“More importantly, who are you and what are you doing in my kingdom?” she retorted confidently, as if she had already ruled these lands her entire life.
Every day in those cells was one where she awaited the chance to take back what was rightfully hers and avenge her parents.
Idris let out a small and uncharacteristic snort of amusement. I knew whatever he was about to say next was not going to show any deference to her royal standing.
“I am the only thing standing between Saryn and Death’s door.” He paused, assessing her reaction, and when she didn’t blink or flinch, he added, “I could also be the reason that the histories say Artume’s last living heir never made it out of her cell alive.”
I began to shift my stance defensively, uncomfortable with Idris’ threats. The cramped space of the safehouse, plus the shuttered windows, made me feel uncomfortable given the number of very powerful individuals all confined in close quarters with emotions running so high.
Embry stepped forward to protest, but Saryn’s grip was firm, tugging her back to his chest. “You don’t intimidate me,” she spat, fearlessly.
“Princess, do you know what the sentence for treason is?” Idris stalked around her, like a wolf circling its prey.
Down the bond, Varro commanded me not to intervene, but I ignored him, choosing instead to see how this transpired before deciding whether or not to get involved.
I’d seen enough useless death for ten lifetimes, and I wasn’t about to stand by and watch this female die.
And for what? Loving the wrong person? Being born into royalty of an enemy kingdom?
When silence was the only answer to Idris’ question, he continued with his icy declarations.
“Your mate is oathbound for the rest of his life in servitude of King Aeon. And yet, his actions belied that oath. Aligning himself with the enemy.” He made a disappointed tsk tsk as he waited for Saryn to respond. He didn’t, but Princess Embry did.
“Please, whatever he has done or said, look at the result. We have won a great—”
“Won, your grace? Losses on both sides are likely in the thousands, including two members of the king’s own Order—loyal servants,” he enunciated, “until their last breaths.”
I shifted uncomfortably back and forth, trying to stanch the flood of painful images rushing through my head.
Saryn spoke in defense of Embry more than himself. “In war, difficult decisions must be made, and—”
“And you were trusted to make them honorably, in service of our king,” Idris argued, raising his voice.
Saryn hung his head in defeat and mumbled something inaudible under hist breath.
Idris ignored this and continued calmly, “Make no mistake, he chose death the moment he put you above our cause. He has only himself to blame for the punishment I’m required to bestow.”
Finally, Embry broke away from Saryn’s grasp, and as he lunged forward to restrain her, Varro sent him swiftly to his knees. Saryn quickly turned his gaze to Varro, his eyes pleading and seething all at once.
“No!” she shouted at Idris, who appeared entirely unfazed by a plea he had already anticipated. “You can’t. He is my mate! You’d be killing us both—please, just spare him.”
Idris lifted his hand and grasped the bottom of Embry’s chin delicately, inspecting her beautiful features—not endearingly, but rather as a polite insult to her youth. “A sweet flower you are… I care not for the foolishness of love and mates. A kingmaker hasn’t the time for such whimsy.”
He dropped his hand from her face, but she showed no signs of defeat. Idris turned his back and slowly walked away, continuing his pontificating aloud.
“Power, strength, riches. My dear, it is nothing if you cannot provide peace. I have counseled many kings in my lifetime. Those that have sought the former often find their heirs at an early ascension. There is only one thing you have of value.”
Embry’s fists balled tightly at her sides, pinning her crème dress to her bodice. “You ask for the southern seat in exchange for my mate’s life?”
Idris looked slowly over his shoulder.
“Peace takes time to restore.” Idris walked toward Gia, who was leaning against the wall, appearing tired and disinterested after her own ordeal with slaying the king. He eyed the full length of her stature up and down, like she was a prize horse.
“We have a gifted shifter in our midst. Perhaps one who even surpasses the skill of your own mate. The very one I hear freed you from the confines of your cells and delivered you to safety.” He paused, looking back at Embry to witness her reaction.
“You did know of his particular talents, right? Or did he keep that a secret from you too?”
“If peace is all you seek, then I offer you the southern throne for fifty years in exchange for my mate’s life.”
“No!” Saryn yelled. “It’s not worth it. Don’t do this,” he pleaded to his beloved.
I’d never seen Saryn cry, but I could see frustrated tears beginning to well in his eyes at the idea of his mate offering up her throne, all she had left, just to spare him a punishment he’d wholly earned.
Idris ignored Saryn’s interruptions entirely and continued to focus his negotiations on the all-too-eager princess.
“Princess, your people’s minds are poisoned towards the North.
These complex emotions cannot easily be undone.
But with one of our own on the throne, we may yet develop the antidote.
Still, it would be challenging…” His words trailed off as if he were no longer considering it.
“One hundred years in exchange for you and your mate’s asylum, confined to the Elorn Mountains. ”
Instantly, I knew what Idris sought to do. He would keep them both prisoners, warded at Basdie. She was not bartering for freedom—Idris would never grant that after what Saryn had done.
“Don’t do it!” Saryn begged. “My life isn’t worth losing your throne. You don’t know the things I’ve done.”
I could tell he was getting desperate to convince her, trying his best to push her away by any means necessary.
“I’m not who you think I am. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to live. Please do not give into these demands, Embry!”
She turned to her mate and knelt, meeting him at eye level, now on her knees facing him.
“If you would let me know you, truly know you, a throne is a small price to pay. In a prison cell, in the remotest of mountains, in solitude and in suffering, I would give up everything I have ever known…to know you.”
Embry’s words rippled along my and Varro’s bond.
An undeniable and relatable truth resounded from them.
I felt it. Varro felt it. Even as bitter as Gia was, I knew she felt it.
The indescribable tether of having found one’s mate was just as much a calling for life as was the duty to one’s kingdom or an oath of servitude.
The semantics of such nuance can only be known by those who have felt its power over them.
It’s why Saryn was powerless to his betrayal.
Slow tears began to fall down Saryn’s cheeks, matching Embry’s as he surrendered to her decision. Embry stood and stepped toward Idris, confident in her convictions.
“You have 100 years with your imposter queen to make peace between our lands. When that time is up, I will be back to claim what is rightfully mine,” she said through gritted teeth.
Idris smiled at her and nodded before turning his attention to the rest of us.
“Wonderful. It seems we have a coronation to plan. Embry will stay here with Gia this evening to provide thorough details of any essential knowledge before her installment. Tomorrow morning, I will begin transporting her and Saryn to Basdie.”
Gia began to fidget, and I could tell her displeasure came from being treated as nothing more than a puzzle piece in the matter.
We were all hoping to leave Artume as soon as the mission allowed, but now her fate had been sealed to the aftermath for at least 100 years.
I knew she wanted to scream and rip Idris limb-from-limb.
Instead, I witnessed her exert composed self-control.
“I know you all wish to properly mourn Trace, and it is my regret that I cannot stay to stand as witness. I do not take the death of one of us lightly. But it is important that I convene with King Aeon and share news of our plans, as well as ensure this traitor is returned to Basdie.”
Saryn dipped his chin in shame at Idris’ words, the truth of it too heavy to deny.
Before Varro even spoke, I knew he was going to ask the same questions swirling in me as I tried to ignore mention of Trace’s passing. “What of the rest of us? Are we to be stationed in Artume?”
“All of you will stay here and see to the coronation efforts. Once successful, Cairis will remain at Gia’s side as added protection. She is a valuable asset and your watch over her safety is imperative.”
Gia’s shoulders relaxed minutely, hearing that she wouldn’t be forced to carry on this charade alone.
One hundred years was a long time to play such a role.
I was eager to hear if Varro and I would also keep posts in Artume.
While I longed to smell the lands of Cambria again, to be free of this sand pit, there was nothing there for me anymore.
Gia, Cairis—outside of my mate, they were my family.
My hopes were crushed instantly. “Varro and Cress, at the culmination of the ceremonies, you two are to return to Basdie and await your next orders. Theory is likely to greet you.” There was relief in knowing we’d be travelling together, that we wouldn’t be separated, but nothing about Idris’ instruction made it clear how long we would remain that way.
What if we were sent off on separate missions?
I dared not question Idris or inquire further about the missions in front of Embry.
This would have been a grave misstep in his eyes, and since he was already sparing one Imperi life, I needn’t press my luck.