18. Krait
Chapter 18
Krait
A s she entered the courtyard, Sybilla looked tired. Bags had formed under her eyes, and for the past few nights, she’d tossed in her sleep, unable to find comfort. Each night, I would return to my bedchamber to sleep on the cot only after she’d fallen asleep. It felt less intrusive, a way I could offer her some privacy in the evening.
Also, I feared being in the confines of that room awake with her. While Sybilla and I often egged each other on into fury, there was a part of that fury that I found intoxicating—a part that could meld so easily into physical passion. It was evident in the way her breath hitched, the way that even when we argued our bodies seemed to gravitate toward one another.
The weight of Elsedora’s judgment had begun to wear on me. Any time we were alone, she reminded me: “You need to tell Sybilla what the prophecy entails. Tell her how she plays a part.”
I imagined how that would sound. “An old book says we must have a child, and they’ll be the one to end Caym’s reign for good.” She may throw actual daggers at me or, worse, whatever weapons she could spew from her mind.
I wasn’t ready.
Sybilla greeted me with a raised hand and no words.
“Good morning,” I murmured with sarcasm. My grip tightened on the thick leather bag of records we’d collected from those who wished to reenter Henosis.
We approached the Egress, and she cast a skeptical glance at the opening, her lips in a flat line. I offered her my free hand, which she took before stepping in beside me. “East Tower,” I directed.
The Egress pulled us from the Sahlms, and we descended into the tower that looked over the city of Laome. From my research of the new maps, the city sat in the coastal jungles of the East Corridor of Henosis.
We rounded many stairs to reach an awaiting carriage. Abundant greenery surrounded us, and sticky air filled my lungs. An unappealing nuisance of buzzing bugs circled overhead.
The neck of my formal red tunic already beginning to rub, I’d have done anything to get this over with quickly. I slung the bag containing the reentry requests into the carriage after helping Sybilla up.
This whole system was ridiculous.
Sybilla wore a blue heavy-wool gown with a ribbed corset tied tight—I imagined it was even less comfortable than my outfit. But the way it pushed up her breasts was overtly distracting.
“You should have El take you into the city to get something lighter than that,” I said.
“ Mhm. ”
She was quiet today. Had she taken a page out of my book with the short responses?
I wondered if apprehension about seeing the North King plagued her mind.
We took the carriage up the switchbacks of the dense jungle hills to reach the palace where King and Queen Nadiar resided. Vines cut up the great stone walls, and a swampy moat surrounded the squared structure. A drawbridge was lowered, and after crossing, we finally reached our destination.
King Landor and Queen Edia Nadiar sat side by side at the head of the dining hall table. Sybilla gave a deep curtsey.
“Thank you for hosting us in your home, King and Queen Nadiar,” she said and swatted at me to bow, which I did with a low growl. She’d briefed me on the rulers. The Nadiars had ruled the East Corridor together for twenty years and still favored formal, stiff courts.
“Welcome.” King Nadiar nodded for us to sit.
King Sheffield entered just after us, and instead of shaking Sybilla’s hand, he pulled her in for an embrace. “Queen Sybilla, looking as radiant as always. What’s this?” he asked, his thumb hovering over her healing cheek.
Sybilla answered too quickly, “Unfortunate archery incident—all is well. Here to tell the tale.” Sheffield was a seemingly good-natured, portly man with round cheeks and a grayed mustache that twisted up at the sides.
Sheffield’s gaze rested on the Luz-blue ribbon wrapped around her neck, but he nodded. Sybilla had told me that Sheffield, the South Corridor King, was her easiest alliance. Apparently, they’d bonded over their love of fine port and their hatred for her late father.
The newly crowned King of the West Corridor was already sitting at the table. King Haag Bringham had mussed brown hair and bloodshot eyes. He avoided greeting us. Bringham was the youngest ruler in their ranks at twenty-seven. He had also been the first of Sybilla’s father’s failed attempts to marry her off—Elsedora had slipped me that tidbit of information.
Queen Nadiar was sitting to the right of me. Her silken black bob, hints of gray at its root, glistened in the morning light. King Nadiar sat stone-faced—his narrow, drooping face showing neither objection to nor enthusiasm at us being there. This was an alliance that intrigued me. The East Corridor’s Griffiths were magnificent beasts of war. Hawk-headed but with feline bodies, they were fierce, loyal creatures.
“King Mattock informed me you have appointed advisors for the Central Corridor,” King Bringham said across the table to Sybilla. “Are you sure that Source-wielders are trustworthy enough to rule in your absence after all that has happened? The optics of appointing them…” He clicked his tongue. “Questionable.”
“Luckily for me, I care less about optics than results, King Bringham,” Sybilla said with a diplomatic smile that struck me as unlike her. She wore a mask here. I itched to see her tell him how she really felt.
“That much is clear,” a low voice from the doorway said. King Mattock stood with one hand on the pommel of his broadsword and the other running through his hair. My brow furrowed—I’d expected some tension between Sybilla and her former Constable but not outright hostility.
Having two ex-lovers at the table could prove difficult for her. And for me by association.
Yet I couldn’t miss the way Sybilla’s eyes had lit from within whenever they landed on Mattock. He stopped loitering by the door and sat at the table. “By the next meeting, I will also have appointed advisors in Helos. I apologize for my absence at the last meeting. The battle in Luz took its toll on my strength. But I am here now.”
Sybilla’s lips turned up at the sides as she watched Mattock like she was observing a bird fly for the first time. “That is wonderful news, Em.”
Mattock met her gaze with indifference. “It is King Mattock at this table.”
The light in Sybilla’s eyes dimmed.
I scowled at Bringham, unable to let go of his slight. “Why would Source-wielders be untrustworthy?” I ground out, holding my posture in a way I knew promised a threat.
“I meant no offense,” Bringham backtracked with raised palms. “But the Wasteland wards being down does not mean that Source power is welcome in all of Henosis. The Sisterhood and the Order may have dissolved, but the laws don’t change so quickly.”
My jaw tightened, and the room grew a bit darker.
“Tea?” Sybilla kicked me under the table.
Before I could respond, she’d reached for the pot and poured it for me. That earned her a pair of raised brows from Queen Nadiar, who motioned for a maid to pour the rest of the cups.
Sybilla cleared her throat. “My new advisors have proven themselves fierce protectors of the people of Henosis. They, along with King Darvanda, saved my Corridor from falling—which would have left each of yours vulnerable to attack. Let us break bread together today and determine the best path forward , toward unifying the realms in coming meetings.”
King Sheffield gave her a firm nod. “Wonderful idea, Queen Wymark. There is no need to bicker now before the trials have even started.”
I gave a nod of agreement, deciding not to bury all of Sybilla’s prior alliances in a shallow grave. If she could keep Sheffield’s and the Nadiars’ loyalties, maybe she stood a chance in helping me win water rights in the North before the canals dried up. If we survived Caym, then my people would need a secured future for their home.
Queen Nadiar whispered to her King who then said, “We will send fleets of Griffiths to help with the rebuilding in Luz.”
Sybilla beamed. “Thank you—that is appreciated.”
Sheffield cleared his throat. “Have you brought records of the first reentry requests?” he asked me. His tone was respectful. It surprised me to find even one Corridor ruler I didn’t despise.
I nodded and reached into the bag to retrieve a stack of paper as thick as a short novel.
“We’ll begin reviewing them today, and then make concessions and decisions at the next meeting,” King Bringham said.
The word “concessions” made me see red. As though my people had any more to give, as though they deserved having to negotiate their right to return to a land where they’d once lived.
The rest of the dull conversation about the logistics of re-opening Egresses in Henosis and plans for future meetings carried on. Nerves knotted my throat each time Mattock’s hardened gaze met Sybilla’s pleading one.
He would always be her weakness.
He might be her downfall.