Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Peace. Cion loves to use that word. Some of it is her pride, I think, to remind me she was the one who created it. Certainly, she shares the credit, but the true burden was borne by two gods, heirs who looked like newborn stars as they disappeared in fire before my eyes all those years ago.
—Lady Anabeth, Consort to Her Majesty Cion Livii, Queen of Aren, D’anna
Nya.
The voice floated to her across a void filled with sparkling constellations.
Every single burning, dying star was tended to by her.
The light they were formed of was not warm, rather, so cold, it hurt as she cradled one against her chest. Someday, she would take a single breath, and when she blew it out, all of them would extinguish in a silent, empty supernova.
Vaguely, she knew she was dreaming, because this place was familiar.
It was where she had gone nearly every night of her childhood, and it was where Varax had found her four years ago, staring at the deepest, darkest part of the void for just a little too long, wondering what would happen if she reached for it, just as she was doing now.
Perhaps it would be for the best if she let go, emptied out the magic she had been granted by the gods who had made her, and just disappeared as it returned to the night sky where it belonged.
A quiet death, wreathed in fire.
Nya. Nya. Nya!
The voice was more insistent now, almost irritating in its repetition.
She sighed softly, her fingertips dancing over velveteen darkness.
A slip of fate; that was all she was. Death was her destiny, and it would be the finale in a circle that had been turning, turning, turning ever since Nyx had refused to marry the king.
Nya, please.
Oh, but that voice…
It made her hesitate, caused her to cling to another thread of fate, this one still wound tightly within the circle of tragedy and loss but steeped in the promise that she was not alone in her destiny.
She could ignore it. She could have ignored it many times now, but, just like all the times before, she caved, allowing the fear of loneliness to weaken her.
All she had to do, all she ever had to do, was turn around, and he was there, pulling her away from the void that might save him, if he only let her go.
Her eyes flew open, and she heard someone very close to her murmur, “Shh…I know, I know. You’re alright.”
She touched her own face to find her cheeks damp with unnaturally cold tears. Her body was trembling and aching, as if she had just run a long distance, and her heart was racing, the uneven, harried beats making her breath catch.
Waking up like this was not unfamiliar. She’d had nightmares since childhood, had often woken in a panic, though she never remembered what they were about.
When she was small, her parents would rush in and soothe her, but as she grew, she learned to deal with the aftermath alone.
Except she he wasn’t alone now, and it took her a moment to remember why.
“I’m still here,” she muttered, sweeping her gaze around Morgen’s room before sitting straight in the bed. His bed, where she had slept next to him all night, while he was drunk off his own magic.
“It’s alright,” he said, and she finally faced him as he scrubbed a hand over her jaw. “My mind is sane again.”
She glanced at him, remembering all the times she had wondered what it would be like to wake up with him.
“You were acting like you smoked a lot of gardroot,” she finally settled on.
She had once tried to convince him to try the plant with her, which he had blatantly refused. She had smoked it only once, just before she left Mise for D’anna, and had cried for hours straight in a mind-haze and then fallen asleep on the floor.
He lifted a shoulder, his shrug nonchalant and his voice flat when he said, “I’m sure I was. And I’m going to assume Carus explained why?”
“He did.”
“Good, then. You need to—”
“Why?”
He paused, tilting his head to the side. “Why what?”
“Why did you portal twice in a row like that if you knew it would do that to you? I called for Varax, not you, and I was perfectly fine waiting for her to fly to me.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he looked away. “I needed you here. We have to get started with negotiations, and that requires your presence.”
“Well, you lost just as much time as it would’ve taken Varax to fly to me and back flopping around drunk and sleeping off the effects of what you did instead.
I’m going to venture to guess you knew that would happen, though.
” She squared her jaw, seeking out his eyes.
“So, try again. Why did you do it, Morgen?”
He shook his head and muttered, “I don’t have time for this,” before rolling off the bed.
She scowled, watching as he pulled off his shirt and traded it for a fresh one then knotted half of his hair back. He was moving too fast to feign being relaxed or uncaring now.
“You need me to cooperate, right?”
He turned, his expression flat, though the embers were bright in his eyes. “You know I do.”
“Fine, then. Answer my question, and consider it your ticket to me shutting up today while you use me for your plans.”
He scoffed. “You never shut up, Nya. I don’t expect that to stop just because I indulge your curiosities.”
The words hit her like a slap in the face. She was talkative, especially around him, and she had always assumed he liked listening. But maybe he had just been tolerating her all those years, biding his time until the moment was right.
“Right, of course,” she said quietly. “It doesn’t matter anyways. I’m at your disposal no matter what. You made sure of that.”
His expression clouded slightly. “You know I didn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what you meant. Let’s just get on with the manipulation for today. I’m too tired to play games.”
He didn’t reply this time, turning and walking to the door. She assumed he wanted her to follow and had just forced herself to get off the bed when he paused, a hand braced against the cavern wall.
“I did it because I was worried. Blood binding is old magic, and there isn’t much information on how it works or what the toll can be at a distance. You were far away and had been gone for more than a day…” He sighed sharply. “I didn’t do it with the intention of hurting you.”
“Why did you do it?” she dared to whisper.
But apparently, she had pushed too far for now, because he didn’t respond, pushing the door open and striding into the hallway.
She caught up to him, and they walked side by side, neither of them deigning to speak to each other as he led her gods knew where.
When they entered the cavernous dining hall, full of soldiers talking and eating breakfast, her steps slowed.
He was heading for one of the tables in the center, and nearly every pair of eyes in the room were drifting to her—and not all of them appeared friendly.
Morgen was obviously respected, but she hadn’t expected him to eat in the mess hall, nor did she like the visibility.
“Go on and sit,” Imeria said in her ear, causing her to jump. “They all know you’re married to him, and even if some of them aren’t happy about it, none of them would dare lay a finger on you.”
Nya would have rather run the other way, but she appeared to have little choice in the matter, so she gingerly slid into the spot next to Morgen.
He’d already filled her plate with food, and she ate quickly, ignoring the openly hostile stares of two soldiers across from her at the table over.
Morgen talked quietly to Carus, who sat on his left, Imeria occasionally interjecting from her spot across the table.
When Nya finished eating, Morgen said in her ear, “Done?”
She nodded, keeping one eye on the soldiers whispering amongst themselves as they glared at her.
“Good,” Morgen said.
She hardly had time to register what he was doing before he’d portaled behind the soldiers, punched one of them in the face, and shoved a dagger in the other’s belly in quick succession.
All at once, the dining hall fell into complete silence. Morgen snatched one of the soldier’s napkins off the table and wiped the blood from his knuckles while the soldiers groaned in pain below him.
“Anyone else whispering about secret plots to murder my wife?” Morgen’s voice boomed through the hall.
“If you are, congratulations: you are at least less of an idiot than these two.” He glanced down at them, his expression twisted in disgust. “If I catch wind of anything, you’ll both be implicated immediately, since you had the gall to think I wouldn’t hear you from a single table away.
You know I value all of you, but…” He looked back at Nya and lifted a brow.
“Your lives become void if you threaten hers.”
He returned to their table, this time without the portal, and offered her his hand.
She took it, telling herself again and again the whole display had just been for show.
It would make sense why he did it; if he allowed insubordination amongst his ranks, it would only cause larger issues down the line.
He obviously understood how to gather not just an army, but loyal fighters she didn’t doubt would die for him and whatever it was they all believed in.
When they left the cavern, Carus followed them, keeping a few paces behind until Morgen led her into what appeared to be some sort of war council room.
A large, circular table took up the center of the space, its surface filled with carved indents and overflowing with maps and charts, most of them unfamiliar to Nya upon first glance.
Morgen let go of her hand, and Carus sat in one of the numerous chairs scattered around the table, leaning back as he twirled a small dagger in his hands.
“You really shouldn’t have portaled so soon after what happened yesterday,” he said, gaze flicking between her and Morgen.
Morgen strode over to the table and placed his palms flat against the surface.
Nya watched, eyes widening as the grooves in the table lit up, flowing with tiny rivulets of what appeared to be some sort of liquid gold.
That was when she realized the table itself was a map too.
She saw the words Gods’ Aisle carved near the edge and noticed the word ‘veil’ in several places. The table must be a map of Arcadia.
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion,” Morgen said flatly to Carus.
Carus leaned forward. “Yes, well, I don’t recall requesting to babysit your magic-drunk ass.”
“You were not there when I woke up,” Morgen said, tilting his head to where Nya still stood near the entrance. “She was. So, I presume you were not burdened with the task for too long.”
“Yes, I left. After I caught you when you fell off Varax then dragged you through the halls while you whined and flopped about like an overgrown child having a tantrum.”
Nya’s lips twitched, unable to stop the small laugh that escaped her even as Morgen scowled.
Carus grinned, pointing at her. “See? She thinks I’m funny.”
“Incredible. You’ve finally found yourself a captive audience.”
Carus burst out laughing, slapping a hand against his knee, and Nya pinched her lips together. She should not laugh. The joke was made at her own expense, and it was true, after all. She was trapped here. Maybe her mind was becoming a bit loopy with the confusing whiplash of emotions.
“So,” Carus said, clearing his throat and placing a folded piece of parchment on the table. “The letter was drafted while you were having your sleepover. The other generals and I settled on three days.”
Morgen gave a short nod. “Fine.”
Nya glanced at the letter, already having a feeling what it was, but still, she asked, “Three days for what?”
This time, when Carus smiled, though it was not kind or amused but calculating. “Three days for the principals to meet our terms and accept Morgen as king. Otherwise, we’re ready to send our armies.”