Chapter 3 #2
I snap my attention from Rowan and lock eyes with Abrum at the end of the table.
He shifts and runs his thick fingers over his face before slicking back his gray hair.
The lines on his face are deeper than normal.
Bags frame his brown eyes—eyes that remind me of Raelle’s.
They are thoughtful, compassionate, and determined.
I asked him to retire from his position as the general of the Pliris army and take the post as the commander of my guard.
I’d hoped that the new responsibility would give him more time with his family and lessen his stress, but it doesn’t appear to be working.
“We will bring her home, Your Majesty,” Greer says with a glare that dares someone to contradict her.
She sits tall in her olive jacket, wearing it like she was born to lead the army.
Her mahogany hair is shaved at the sides and the long strands are plaited from the top of her head down the middle of her back.
I thought I was an intimidating general, but my best friend puts me to shame.
Leif slides a map into the center of the table, drawing us deeper into the matter at hand. “I understand that we’re lacking details on the island where we believe the Allaji are holding her, but that’s what makes it the perfect prison.”
The small island sits off the west coast of Allaji, meaning that my army would have to cross the expanse of the shifter’s kingdom and then the water to get to it.
Pliris doesn’t have the resources to continue to guard our land and a military campaign of that magnitude.
If the Allaji get wind of our intentions before we rescue Raelle, Pliris could be at war with scattered forces.
My kingdom wouldn’t survive the first battle.
Borin taps his deep brown finger on the map. “We have the means to retrieve her with minimal soldiers needed. We will just have to take to the water.”
His deep voice rumbles through me, and my stomach turns so violently that the contents of my last meal threaten to reappear. I hate the water, the unsteady waves and losing sight of the land. It’s a recipe for disaster. Especially the type that requires a pail and a mop to clean up.
“There has to be a better way,” I say.
“Borin is right.” I lift my gaze to Abrum, and he continues, “If you want to save time and resources, this is how it must be done.”
“We have the most seaworthy fleet of ships on this side of the five kingdoms,” Borin says, coaxing my churning stomach to relax and soothing me with trustworthy words.
As my top advisor, Borin has never sugarcoated the truth.
If he thinks my decisions are rash and have the potential of harming our kingdom, he says so.
The moments my rule pleases him, he offers me a curt nod.
And if I fall into the pit of despair due to my separation from my parah, he’s quick to remind me that I have hope of seeing her again.
Perspective. The man always gives me a new perspective.
“Pardon, Your Grace,” Greer says, meeting Borin’s dark stare.
“We have merchant ships, not battleships. It’s the reason we keep to the waters along the east coast. We’re not equipped to take on the outlanders who infest the western sea.
They are very territorial and will attack if they suspect anything of value on board. ”
“And you know this how, general?” I ask.
Greer leans back in her chair and crosses her arms with a smug smile.
“While you all were reading books, I was looking for answers in questionable places. Two men, who your mother sent to sail in the west, washed up on shore almost a week ago. They said outlanders commandeered their vessel, and they were the only survivors of a thirty-person crew.”
“What did my mother send them out to do?”
“Our conversation didn’t make it that far. They were eager to drown the memories in the whiskey I bought them. But they made one thing very clear: only a fleet of battleships will survive on those waters.”
“Esspress is the only kingdom which can take a war to sea,” says a man with royal blue hair—one of the few council members that once served my mother.
“Fuck,” I mumble.
The kingdom of spirit speakers has been unresponsive to my pleas for help, as has their neighboring kingdom, Sara.
The only land that has given me a response is Sibyl—the home of the Statera’s sacred temple and the Divine Sibyl.
The Sibyls have never tampered in the affairs of the other four kingdoms, claiming it is their duty to act as the embodiment of the Statera and remain impartial in political matters.
All they have offered me is the Sibyl who sits at the back of the room.
The hood of their pale blue robe hides their face while they scribble in a leather-bound journal, observing and noting my first months as ruler.
The archivist falls into the category of “useless.”
“I don’t suppose you have questionable means for reaching the Esspress emperor?” I ask.
Greer shakes her head. “My connections are more the sordid sort, not the kind of people the emperor is inviting to brunch.”
“I may know someone who can bend the emperor’s ear and obtain an invitation to the Esspress palace,” Borin says. “But she will require a favor in return, and her requests are scandalous.”
“Who is she?” I ask.
“His sixth wife, Lasandra.”
I cock a brow and lean in closer with a smirk. “And how are you familiar with her tendency to ask for scandalous favors?”
Borin bows his bald head and fidgets with the gold buttons on the front of his royal blue coat. “In the early days of Lucent, Micah approached the Esspress emperor for supplies. He originally declined his request, but Lasandra offered to use her sway with her husband if...”
“If?”
He drops his voice to a whisper and says, “She requested to be a spectator during an intimate moment between Micah and me.”
“And you let her watch?”
“When Micah said he would do anything for his kingdom, he meant it. I supported him in any way I could.”
I clear my throat and relax into my chair, taking in the pink cheeks and mumbled exchanges between Pliris’ leaders.
It isn’t so shocking to learn my uncle would go to such extremes, but Borin?
He was the soft voice of reasoning to Micah’s firm demands, the still shadow in the corner of the room when all eyes were on his husband.
Borin strategized the rescue of the Cyffreds from my mother’s oppressive rule, and Micah braved the tunnels between Stigian and Lucent to liberate those who wanted freedom. Borin was the calm in Micah’s storm.
I admire the collected way Borin carries himself, but the king I strive to be was shaped by the selfless bravery of my uncle.
Unlike my mother, he taught me to govern for my people, not over them.
Many at this table have never lived under a ruler who put them first, but they do now.
I will do whatever is needed to protect my subjects and give them the opportunity to flourish.
These are the lengths I will go to for them.
But what I will do for Raelle is unmeasurable.
“Send word to Lasandra that I’ll meet her demands if she gives me an audience with her husband,” I say.
Borin shakes his head and presses his knuckles to his full lips. “Are you sure, Kyron? Her requests are always sexual in nature.”
“I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
The people around the table bow as I exit the room.
I’ll never get used to the show of reverence.
I spent the greater part of my life as an outsider—a child of the rival kingdom, fighting alongside those who despised what they thought I was.
The respect I had as the Lucent army’s general was earned with blood and sweat on the battlefield.
Nothing was handed to me until the day I returned to Stigian. And I hate it.
With brisk steps, I clench the Eporri and hurry through the opulent hallway, ignoring the lush paintings adorning the walls and the gilded molding arching across the high ceiling.
I need space to digest everything I learned during the meeting—undocumented islands, traveling by ship, and consorts that want to fraternize with people that aren’t their emperor.
It’s a lot to take in, and I need a solid plan to move forward.
“Kyron, I need to talk with you.”
Footsteps pound into the gold and cream rug, until Raelle’s brother reaches my side and matches my stride.
From the corner of my eye, I glance at the young soldier.
His sister forgave me for breaking her heart, but Rowan isn’t ready to release the grudge he has against me.
We have exchanged little more than pleasantries since he arrived in the capital.
Every time he must bow or show a sign of respect, his eyes darken with contempt.
I can almost see the conflict between what he must do and what he wants to do.
Unless this conversation is ending with him impaling me on his blade, I can’t imagine what he needs to say.
“What do you want, Rowan?” I ask.
“I want to join the rescue mission to save Raelle.”
“You’re still in training, and it’s too dangerous for you. I’ll be calling the most experienced soldiers to accompany me on this mission.”
Rowan clenches my bicep, bringing me to a stop. “She’s my sister, and no one will care about her safety as much as me.”
I glare at his fingers, but he only digs them harder into my leather jacket.
It takes what’s left of my patience not to lose my temper and pin him to the wall.
My jaw clenches and through gritted teeth I say, “I tolerate your blatant disrespect because I understand your anger. Nobody hates me more for inflicting pain on Raelle than me.”
“That can be debated,” he snaps.
I firmly pry his hand away from me. “Do not question what your sister means to me or imply that I can’t love her more than you. You can’t comprehend what I’m going through without her. Nobody, absolutely nobody, wants her home more than me.”
He doesn’t shy away from my harsh tone, lifting his chin and squaring his shoulders.
I fight back a smile at his defiant stance.
It reminds me so much of Raelle. And like his sister, he doesn’t back down.
“Raelle and Papa have always run head first into any situation that threatens our family, and I’ve stood by with instructions to watch over our home and protect Mama and the girls.
This is my chance to pay back Raelle and Papa for their sacrifices.
Let me be a part of this mission, even if I do nothing more than shine swords and lay out the armor.
Don’t make me sit out my turn to give back to my family. ”
The air between us is always thick with Rowan’s dislike for me.
It’s suffocating, slowly choking me with his hatred.
It would crush Raelle to return to find nothing had changed between me and her beloved younger brother.
I broke his trust when I betrayed his sister, and he won’t easily forgive me for that, but I have to try.
“I’m not putting you in harm’s way, Rowan. Raelle would kill me if something happened to you. But if General Rojas says she thinks you’re up for the task, I’ll allow you to go as my attendant.”
He looks me over with a skeptical eye. “Attend to you? You want me to lay out your underthings and brush your hair?”
“Perhaps, if the moment calls for it.”
“You’re going to be a dick to me.”
“You can count on it,” I say, not in the mood for mincing words. “This will be a dangerous mission, and we don’t have room for novice mistakes. Take it or leave it.”
Rowan doesn’t hesitate to say, “I’ll take it.”
“Good.” I pick up my pace again. “I suggest you get back to your unit and train. If you think I’m an asshole, Greer is ten times worse.”
“I’m aware,” he mumbles, taking off in the opposite direction.
I can only pray to the Statera for the bravery Raelle’s brother shows.
The risk I’m taking with so many lives weighs heavily on me.
I’m a creature of certainty, a master at precise strategy, yet I’m marching my army into the unknown, taking them to the sea and fighting our enemy on unfamiliar land.
It terrifies me. I’m risking those in my care and may fail those who are hoping I’ll save them.
I’m gambling with lives for the possibility of bringing Raelle home.
The odds aren’t in my favor, but I can’t help taking the chance.