Chapter 29 Meryn
MERYN
Back at Weisenstat, the war tent is dimly lit by a brazier. The glowing illumination casts shadows over the canvas that flicker and tremble. But I’m steady as I stand above the war table and stare down at various maps of the border region.
They’re all marked with the current positions of both Nocturnan and Siphon forces, and none of it is good.
Siegrid doesn’t mince words. “The Astreonan offer seems like a trap. A ceasefire in exchange for the simple act of handing them our queen?”
Stark shifts beside me and leans his hand on the table, his eyes flicking over the maps. Kryptos Alpha Hannelore watches us quietly, her attention flitting from Siegrid to me and Stark and back again.
“I agree that it’s blatantly suspicious,” I admit, “but let’s acknowledge the reality here.” I punctuate the statement with a gesture to the bleak maps before us. “What alternative do we have?”
Siegrid’s face is stony. Hannelore nods, her brow tight.
I straighten and shake my head. “This ceasefire is necessary right now without Phylax to help hold off Astreona. They have the upper hand entirely. And if they decide to direct more forces here and take Weisenstat, all of Nocturna will suffer.”
“Final assessment?” Siegrid presses.
“We are outnumbered and outmaneuvered,” I explain, “especially with the Phylax defection. We could choose to go down fighting, and then what? There would be more Nocturnan deaths, and they will still enter our country. We want Killian’s head.
So do they, apparently. Why let them achieve that at the cost of our people’s lives, when we have the possibility of doing it together? ”
To my extreme surprise, Siegrid merely crosses her arms and says, “I agree.”
“You do?” I blurt out.
“I do,” she says. “I don’t see any other option. But we need to present our own terms. You are not stepping foot across the border without a high-level hostage from their end. We need someone important to them to be kept under our watch in order to guarantee your safety.”
It’s childish. I know it’s childish. She’s the right choice for political reasons, but my reasons are entirely personal. “Take General Navarro herself. We’ll only accept if she agrees.”
Siegrid nods. “Then tomorrow, we’ll let them know and you will travel to Astreona.” Her eyes dart to her son. “Stark will go with you. I can direct the Daemos forces in his stead with the help of his Beta.”
Stark says nothing, his face stuck in its typical, unreadable scowl. I can’t imagine that he’d stand by while I traipsed off into an enemy nation by myself, but… no reaction at all?
Pushing it out of my mind for now, I say, “My sister, too.”
Hannelore starts. “Surely the princess would be safer here.”
Siegrid gives me a heavy look—as one of the few people here who knows about Saela’s condition, she knows my sister cannot stay here without me.
“It’s fine,” the Sovereign Alpha says. A calculating shadow passes over her eyes, and she tilts her head as if listening to someone—likely counsel from Genicos.
“Take Venna and Noemi with you as well. Venna is loyal and gifted; she will be useful. Noemi is, shall we say, more diplomatic than you are. She may be helpful in the Astreonan court.”
Another surprise from Siegrid, but I’m not about to argue.
I couldn’t leave Venna behind, not with Izabel’s death still so fresh. And while I still don’t know Noemi well, I can’t deny that she’s tactful and smooth, qualities that might help.
Although—is that why Stark is suddenly withdrawing from me? Because of her?
I reach out urgently to Anassa and ask, “What’s the deal with Stark and Noemi? Stark said she was like a sister to him, but now he’s gone all silent on me. Cratos must’ve told you something, right?”
I sense Anassa’s distaste before I hear it in her voice. “He has told me, yes.”
“Anassa,” I beg. “We promised to be honest with each other.”
Anassa huffs. “I am being honest with you, but there is a difference between honesty and gossip. Direwolves do not gossip. It is an idle, lazy human trait. If you are curious about their relationship, you are welcome to act like the queen you are and simply ask them.”
Fucking wolves. Shaking myself out of my petty jealousy, as Anassa would call it, I refocus on the conversation at hand.
“I suppose you’ll manage in my stead?” I ask Siegrid, my tone edgier than I mean it to be.
She nods. “With constant communication to you, my queen. I will not make any decisions without your direct instructions.”
That’s a relief, although part of me knows she’d gladly take the power for herself.
With everything decided, the Alphas all bow and head out. For a brief moment, Stark and I are left alone in the tent.
His dark gaze is heavy on me.
I’m trapped by it, unable to speak, unable to look away. My heartbeat accelerates, and I forget what I’m supposed to be doing, where I’m supposed to be going. Fuck, is this how it’s going to be every time he looks at me now?
And then he turns abruptly and walks away.
What is his deal?
Irritation sparks, coupled with an ache in my chest. Was it foolish, opening myself up to him like that? Leaning into the connection between us, embracing it? It felt like the right choice at the time, but now I’ve been left reeling.
I’m too exhausted to chase after him, though.
I return to the sleeping quarters, where Saela is already asleep. My stomach twists as I sit beside her. It’s unfair that I’m about to change her life yet again. She’s just as caught up in this mess as I am, only she has no one but me to help her through it.
I just hope I’m not fucking up.
Taking a deep breath, I gently rouse her. She looks up at me, bleary-eyed, and mumbles my name.
“I have some news,” I say.
The frantic movement riddled through the camp the next morning matches my insides. There’s a resting sense of wrongness.
It was my decision to go, but the reality of our impending journey to Astreona, a land that has for centuries been enemy territory, is difficult to confront.
I don’t let my second-guessing show on my face, though. Too many eyes are on me. News has clearly spread through camp.
“All right, Sae,” I tell my sister, and lace my fingers together. She knows the routine now and braces her foot in my hands. At the same time, she clings to Anassa’s fur and lets me launch her up onto my direwolf’s back.
Then I pat Anassa’s side and stare up at my sister. Her shoulders are hunched, and her hands are worrying at Anassa’s fur. Since I told her about our father being alive and the inevitability of meeting him, she hasn’t spoken much.
Or at all, really.
I tried to assure her that she didn’t owe him anything and that I would keep her safe. It’s hard to tell whether she really heard me when she hasn’t lifted her eyes any higher than her own boots since this morning.
Distraction didn’t even work. I tried to draw her into a conversation about the Goddess Tears. After what happened when I took her necklace off, I’m itchier than ever to find out more about them.
The Mother Priestess said she thought the Tears had been lost to the Siphons. So… does that mean we might finally find our answers in Astreona? Maybe the Astreonans will know more about the metal that makes up the now-broken Dire Blade, too.
Or even… my bracelet.
But even these normally thrilling mysteries did nothing for her.
Reaching up, I gently adjust a strap on Saela’s travel pack. “Are you okay?”
She shrugs and stares toward the horizon.
Everyone else assembles and mounts their direwolves—Venna and Noemi. Siegrid. Hannelore, who is coming along to the handoff as extra muscle. And, of course, Stark.
Who still won’t look in my direction.
Apparently, I am a very regrettable lay. The pain of rejection has subsided, and now his gorgeous, broody face provokes annoyance alone.
I’d be burning with humiliation if my sister weren’t trembling like a leaf in front of me.
An hour later, we meet the Siphon delegation outside the agreed-upon meeting point outside Grunfall’s ruins.
The Siphons are clustered around Ruby’s tall, graceful form. With dismay, I notice they’re on horses. Siphons can move at impossible speeds, though it stands to reason that they can’t run long distances and need some form of transportation.
But horses are so slow.
I’m already bristling with agitation as the midday sun warms my leathers, and I urge Anassa toward the Siphon half of our cute little abomination of a group.
“Whatever you do, don’t eat any of them,” I tell her aloud as we approach.
Anassa sends a current of annoyed amusement back my way.
Venna scoffs as she draws up beside us. “Are you reminding Anassa or yourself?”
I laugh. “Both of us, obviously.”
When we’re close enough, Ruby half-heartedly bows and cranes her neck to look up at me.
“Queen Sturmfrost, this is Elias.” She gestures to a Siphon man who steps out of the gaggle of Ruby’s attendants.
He’s tall and bronze-skinned and has that recognizable Siphon beauty.
His hair is dark and shiny, cut short to his neck and exposing the dangling flash of an earring in his left ear.
“He will be your guide through Astreona.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say. I only barely manage to get the words out without stumbling over them because another figure emerges to stand before our wolves.
It’s my so-called father, and I’m mad all over again.
Saela instantly recognizes him. How could she not? She must see herself in him—in his hazel eyes, his dark hair, his strong nose. And she’s trembling slightly.
For a tense moment, no one says anything.
My father’s presence settles over us, suffocating and unwanted. He takes a hesitant half step closer as his eyes move over Saela.
I quickly rest my hand on her shoulder, and she leans into the touch slightly. Her fingers are deep in Anassa’s fur, scratching through it as if she’ll find what she’s looking for buried somewhere within.
“I’m…” He clenches his jaw, and his lips press together. He seems to be struggling with this, but thankfully he gets a hold of himself and attempts an approximation of a smile. “I’m Fredrich, your father.”
Saela makes a small sound, halfway between a confirmation and a squeak of confusion. Anassa and I both immediately bristle with protective instinct, and I squeeze my sister’s shoulder to tell her I’ve still got her.
“Hi,” she says. Then she ducks her head somewhat shyly and focuses on Anassa’s fur.
She’s overwhelmed right now. I tug her braid gently in affection, then turn my gaze against my father. He bows his head, backing away from us.
Ruby approaches. Her attention shifts between Saela and me. And then, with alarming directness, she says, “It’s interesting that you have a Siphon in your party.”
I do everything I can not to tense and turn back toward the Bonded. To keep my blood in my face where it belongs. But I quickly do a mental run of the bonds to make sure Hannelore didn’t hear that comment.
“Who is her sire? Who turned her?” Ruby asks.
Her interrogation catches me off guard. It confirms that Astreonans can somehow sense what Saela is despite her outwardly human appearance. My back starts to sweat.
I quickly weigh the risks of telling the truth—that my sister was sired by our common enemy—versus lying. What would be safer for Saela?
“She doesn’t remember being turned.” Truthful—kind of.
“Hmm. Well, that’s worth taking into consideration. Sire bonds can be strong. Lucien can aid you in managing it,” she replies. “There are ways to block it.”
“No need,” I tell her. “We have a necklace that seems to protect Saela from it.”
Confusion flashes across Ruby’s face, and then she says, “Make King Lucien aware of that as well.”
Then Ruby turns and strides over to my father.
She lithely wraps her arms around his neck, and the two of them proceed to engage in one of the most vomit-inducing public displays of affection I’ve ever witnessed.
Father looks like he’s trying to gag her with his tongue.
Ruby runs her hands down his back and squeezes his ass.
In front of his daughters?!
Saela makes a choked sound and turns away.
I’m green by the time they finally break apart.
With final arrangements in place, Ruby departs with Hannelore and Siegrid toward the Nocturnan camp. She leaves Elias and his group—mostly attendants and guards, plus my father and their sluggish horses—to lead my party across the border into Astreona.
The Siphons mount up, and their equine companions startle slightly and begin to bray as our wolves draw closer. I can’t blame them. They’re prey animals, and direwolves are the strongest predators out there.
If it isn’t an indication of incompatibility, I don’t know what is.
The gravity of what we’re about to do settles back over me. The jittery wrongness from earlier spiders up my arms as I rub Saela’s back. This will be the first Nocturnan diplomatic party to enter Astreona in five centuries.
That matters in a way that makes it hard to breathe.
Venna and Noemi fan out behind me on their wolves. Stark rides next to me, his presence like a silent, spreading shadow. I tighten my arms around my little sister and nod to Elias.
We’re ready to begin our journey into the unknown.