Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
The silence after Ferria's departure felt heavier somehow, weighted with all the problems they still had to solve. Briar watched Arion return to his position at the head of the table, his expression settling into something grimmer than before.
"The second matter," he said, his gaze moving to Briar, "is the bargain that binds you to Malus."
The autumn marks at her throat seemed to rustle in response to being mentioned, copper leaves chiming softly against her skin. She resisted the urge to touch them, to feel how deeply they'd rooted themselves into her flesh.
"I don't understand how he can claim her," Arion said, frustration threading through his voice. "The bargain was with you, Eliam. How does overthrowing you give him rights to it?"
"The wording," Eliam said, his voice flat.
"When Briar made the bargain, it wasn't with me specifically.
It was with 'the Forest King.'" He paused, letting that sink in.
"Words matter in fae law. The bargain doesn't care who I am.
It cares about the title. Malus holds the title now, so the bargain is his. "
"That can't be right," Sian said, her voice carrying more hope than certainty. "Surely there's some clause, some way to—"
"There isn't." Thaine's tone was gentle but firm. "Fae bargains are absolute. Once made, they stand."
Arion's expression darkened. "So transferring the throne transferred the claim."
"Yes." The word came from Eliam, sharp and bitter. "And as we saw at the border, he has no intention of releasing it."
Briar felt Eliam's hand find hers under the table, his fingers lacing through hers with almost bruising pressure. The warmth in her chest pulled toward him, seeking comfort, seeking home.
"There has to be a way to break it," Sian said, though her voice carried more hope than certainty.
"The only ways out are death of the bargain holder, willing release, or completion of terms," Eliam said. "But her bargain has no completion terms. She gave her life. That means it holds until she dies."
The words settled over the room like a shroud. Until she dies. Decades, if she was lucky. A lifetime of belonging to Malus.
"So we kill him," Karse said from his position against the wall. "Problem solved. Next?"
"He's the legitimate Forest King now," Eliam said. "Protected by laws and loyalties I no longer command. Getting close enough to kill him would require an army."
"Which would mean war," Arion said. "Something we're trying to avoid."
Briar found her voice, though it came out smaller than she wanted. "What if I just... went back? Maybe if I cooperated, if I didn't fight him—"
"No." Eliam's response was immediate, absolute. His hand tightened on hers. "That's not an option."
"But if it would prevent war—"
"I said no." His eyes had gone dark, that possessive fury she'd seen before rising to the surface. "I don't care if it would prevent the apocalypse. You're not going back to him."
"What about another bargain?" Halian suggested carefully. "If Briar made a new bargain that superseded the old one—"
"With who?" Karse asked. "And what would she trade that she hasn't already given? She bargained her life. There's nothing larger than that."
"She could bargain with me," Arion said quietly.
The room went completely still. Briar felt Eliam go rigid beside her, his hand turning to stone around hers.
"No," Eliam said, his voice deadly calm.
"It's an option we should consider," Arion continued, his eyes on Briar rather than Eliam. "I have the authority as a ruling prince. A bargain made with me could potentially—"
"She's not making a bargain with you." Eliam's words carried the weight of absolute refusal.
"There might not be another solution," Arion said, finally meeting Eliam's gaze. "If she's bound to Malus and we can't break that binding, then perhaps binding her to another court—"
"Would just add another chain," Eliam cut him off. "She'd still belong to my brother and to you. That's not freedom, that's making things worse."
Arion was quiet for a moment, and when he did speak again, his voice low.
"And when exactly did you start caring about her freedom?
You kept her in your court, in your bed, under your control for months.
You marked her, claimed her, paraded her in front of your entire court as your possession.
So forgive me if I find your sudden concern for her autonomy a bit convenient. "
The temperature in the room dropped. Eliam went completely still.
"Careful," Eliam said, his voice deadly quiet.
"No, I don't think I will be careful." Arion leaned forward, his expression harder than Briar had ever seen it. "Because this isn't about her freedom at all, is it? This is about the fact that she doesn't belong to you anymore. That Malus has what you consider yours."
"Arion—" Halian started, but the prince held up a hand.
"Tell me I'm wrong," Arion pressed. "Tell me that if I offered her a bargain that gave her actual choice, actual freedom to leave any time she wanted, you'd support it. Tell me you wouldn't fight just as hard against that as you're fighting against this."
Eliam stood slowly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Say one more word and hospitality won't save you."
Briar felt the warmth in her chest pulling frantically between them, confused and distressed by the conflict. She opened her mouth to speak, to stop this before it escalated further, but Sian beat her to it.
"This isn't helping," Sian said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. "Fighting about who's wronged her more doesn't solve the problem of Malus."
"She's right," Thaine said quietly. "We need to focus on the actual issue."
Arion and Eliam continued to stare at each other across the table, neither willing to back down. Briar could see the argument wasn't really about her, or not just about her. It was about something else, something in how the warmth responded to both of them.
"Eliam," Briar said quietly, squeezing his hand. “Sit, please.”
For a moment she thought he might refuse, might let his rage carry him into something he'd regret. Then his jaw clenched and he sank back into his chair, though his posture remained rigid, ready to lash out if the occasion called for it.
Arion followed suit, but his expression stayed hard.
"The bargain transferred once already," Thaine observed quietly. "When the title changed hands. Could it transfer again?"
"To who?" Karse asked. "His majesty there doesn't have the title anymore."
"Not officially," Thaine agreed. "But I've seen the forest respond to him for centuries. Titles are political constructs. The forest itself might see things differently."
Eliam shook his head. "The forest answers to Malus now. It's letting him rule, letting him command its full power. That's answer enough."
"Is it?" Thaine pressed. "The forest took years to fully accept you after you took the throne. What if it simply hasn't decided yet?"
"That's speculation," Eliam said flatly.
"Most solutions to impossible problems start as speculation," Karse said from the wall.
Eliam's jaw worked, his hand still gripping Briar's. She could feel him thinking, working through possibilities with that sharp mind that had ruled a court for centuries.
"A new bargain could work," he said finally, reluctantly. "Worded to acknowledge the existing one but allowing the forest to choose who holds it. If the forest recognizes me despite the political situation, the bargain would transfer back. If it doesn't..." He stopped, his expression darkening.
"If it doesn't?" Briar prompted.
"Then the existing bargain would fight the attempt," Eliam said, his voice carefully controlled. "It would interpret a new bargain as an attack, a violation. The marks would defend themselves."
"How badly would it hurt her?" Arion asked, voicing what everyone was thinking.
Eliam's hand tightened on hers. "I felt it when the bargain first transferred to Malus.
The marks changing, reshaping themselves.
The pain was..." He paused, clearly choosing his words carefully.
"Considerable. And that was the bargain accepting a legitimate transfer.
Forcing it against its nature would be worse. "
"How much worse?" Briar needed to know.
His eyes found hers, and she saw the war happening behind them. The desire to protect her from pain fighting against the knowledge that she deserved the truth.
"The marks would constrict," he said finally. "They'd try to enforce the existing bargain, to punish what they see as rebellion. It would feel like drowning, like being crushed."
The room had gone silent, everyone processing what that meant.
"But if it works?" Briar pressed. "If the forest chooses you?"
"Then the marks would change again," Eliam said. "They'd recognize me as the rightful holder of the bargain.”
Briar thought about Malus's voice at the border, the way he'd promised to call to her through the marks, to make her feel him no matter where she ran. She thought about belonging to him for the rest of her life, about what he would do with that power, with that kind of access.
"I want to try," she said.
"Briar, you’re still recovering," Sian protested.
"I want to try," she repeated, meeting Eliam's eyes. "Because doing nothing means I'm his until I die. At least this way there's a chance."
She saw him wanting to argue, saw him ready to refuse, but something in her expression made him stop. His jaw clenched, and she watched him wrestle with the desire to protect her from pain and the knowledge that protection wasn't what she needed right now.
"The wording would need to be precise," he said finally, the words coming out rough.
"Acknowledging the existing bargain while asking the forest to choose.
Something like..." He paused, working through it.
"'My life was given to the Forest King in bargain.
I ask the forest to show me its true king, and to that king alone shall I belong. '"