CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT #2
Though he considered speaking with them about their requests to the Alliance, he decided against it. With their friends around, he knew Deckard wouldn’t want to discuss it, nor did he care to reveal his own thoughts on the subject.
The day flew by faster than Thom preferred, and before long, Calyn and Reyana went off together while the clerk escorted the rest of them to the throne room of Aulden Palace, where Brea was already waiting.
Situated on the palace’s lowest floor and at its very center, the throne room awaited them.
Its breathtaking design reminded Thom of the Keeps.
Eight tall, arching entrances lined the circular space.
Constructed from the same creamy stone as the rest of the palace, the grand room featured no columns for support, as it seemed to have no ceiling.
Rising high above, a glass and iron roof allowed sunlight to pour in.
Thin rectangular windows positioned along the room’s walls provided light to the other spaces in the palace.
Eight thrones were positioned on tall platforms, with stone staircases winding around their bases for easy access to the seats. Yet, both the thrones and the expansive platforms they occupied remained unoccupied.
The ministers were arranged in a semicircle on the far side of the room. “Good afternoon,” greeted Archminister Essen, her aged face lighting up with a smile. “I hope you all had a restful night and morning?”
A chorus of their approval resonated throughout the vast room. Thom struggled to concentrate amidst its overwhelming grandeur.
“We don’t wish to take up your whole afternoon, so we’ll get to the point, shall we? Do you feel you’ve each had ample time to consider your reward?”
A pause lingered as the troop exchanged glances. Ilain edged closer to Ethenn’s side while Vayden stood behind them. Brea turned to Thom, who pressed his lips together and shrugged before glancing at Evylin and Deckard.
After assessing the entire team one by one, Deckard stepped forward. “I think most, if not all of us, feel that we’ve had sufficient time to consider, ma’am,” he stated as if he were speaking to a commanding officer rather than an elderly woman.
Archminister Essen’s smile broadened, and her pleasure was reflected through the expressions of her fellow ministers. “Wonderful,” she said, bringing her hands together in delight. “Don’t hesitate to ask for anything you need or desire.”
Deckard turned back to the group, his gaze darting nervously to Evylin as if he were afraid to speak first.
Ilain stepped forward, her eyes sparkling with something like hesitation. “I suppose we might as well be the ones to get us started,” she said, flashing her husband a warm smile.
Ethenn’s neck flushed slightly, yet he nodded.
“Ilain and I have spoken, and we feel we must ask . . .” He paused, glancing at his wife.
At her nod, he smiled, encouraged. “We would ask that you allow us to spend however long it takes with the Order of the Day, seeking a cure for the Deep. It was the greatest wish of Highlord Magister Auden Calder that this task be accomplished, and together, Ilain and I would like to see that task fulfilled.”
Taken aback, the ministers exchanged confused looks. Thom himself was surprised at first, but knowing they were seeking a cure for Maura, he understood completely.
Archminister Dudleye spoke first. “Is this a refusal of the positions of chancellor and commander?”
“As we are incapable of being in two places at once,” Ilain said with a lighthearted apology, “yes, it is.”
“We could grant that the resources and effort be placed into this discovery for you, Highlady,” Dudleye said. “You needn’t go to Norhels yourself.”
“I must, though,” Ilain said. “I promised my brother I would see this done. If I don’t attend to it myself, I cannot feel that I’ve honored his memory with my best effort.”
A muttering of questions spread among the ministers.
They mentioned the idea of interim rulers in Ilain and Ethenn’s places, but the fact was, there was no guarantee of how long it would take for this cure to be found.
It could be months, years, or decades. Possibly even a century.
Ilain hoped it would be within a handful of years, for Maura’s sake, but she could not say with any certainty.
After a long, regretful conversation, the ministers granted the request. “You will,” Dudleye finally said, “henceforth be known as Highlord and Highlady Loxley until such a time as you have discovered this cure and chosen your next path. And we will pursue another couple to lead our people in Doorstunds Province.”
Ilain and Ethenn shared a contented smile, and Thom knew they’d made the right choice. Together, the pair would make excellent leaders, but this choice wasn’t about their personal desires or skills. In the Alliance, they made sacrifices, and this was their sacrifice.
“It seems,” Vayden said, setting a hand on Ilain’s shoulder, “that I’ve found my request as well. I don’t know what good I can do toward this cure, but my daughter and I would request to go with Ilain and Ethenn. Whatever their path, it is mine also.”
The siblings exchanged a warm smile as the ministers granted their approval.
Deckard offered his best wishes to Ilain, Ethenn, and Vayden before facing the ministers again. Evylin intertwined her fingers with his as they exchanged a long, curious glance, one that suggested both excitement and trepidation, as if they were on the brink of something significant.
A momentary flash of worry made Thom question if they would request some future that he would be incapable of joining.
“Evylin and I,” Deckard said, “have decided to accept the appointment as Chancellor and Commander of Loclight Province.”
Thom’s breath whooshed out of his lungs, and Ilain nudged Ethenn.
“This is the life we desire,” Deckard said confidently. “A life devoted to serving our people. We will do everything in our power to govern the province and the Order of the Heavens with honor and justice.”
“However,” Evylin said with a playful lilt in her voice, “we ask for the ability to travel regularly. We miss our friends and family, and many of them won’t be in Loclight with us.”
The ministers nodded readily, and Archminister Essen brushed her hand through the air. “We can make arrangements for that,” she assured them. “Is that all?”
“For now,” Evylin said.
“Very well.” She turned to Thom. “Should we presume that you’ll accept your post as well, General Deckard?”
Thom paused for an extended moment to consider this new path.
He had envisioned a situation in which Deckard and Evylin accepted the appointment but never thought it would actually happen.
Now, he found himself uncertain about his next steps.
He questioned whether he could be an effective head of the guard or if he’d fail as he’d failed so many things in life.
“I, uh—” Thom cleared his throat and took a single step forward. “I’m sorry, I know I want to stay with Jonn and Evie, but . . . I don’t think I’d like the position.”
Deckard watched him with his ever-steady brotherly affection while Evylin smirked. “You don’t want to protect us?” she teased.
“I tried that once,” Thom bantered. “It didn’t work out well.”
A moment of silence passed before Essen asked, “Do you need more time?”
Thom nodded. “If you don’t mind.”
“Well then, Captain, we’ll grant you an extension,” she said. “We do not wish to rush any of you.”
Thom gave her a small bow. “Thank you, ma’am. I greatly appreciate it.”
The archminister dipped her head in return, then straightened. “And Captain Lohen, what is your request?”
Thom took a deep breath, resisting the urge to turn back to Brea too quickly. She rested one arm on the other, her fingers touching her mouth in contemplation. Her deadpan gaze startled him, a look far too serious for his taste.
“Captain?” the archminister repeated.
Brea lowered her arms and walked past Thom toward the ministers.
With her chin held high, she spoke. “Ministers, I appreciate this opportunity and the trust you extend toward me with your offer to become a commander in our nation. You hold me in high regard, and I acknowledge that honor. However, I must decline your request.”
Thom’s stomach quaked. Had she just . . . ?
“I have no desire to be a commander,” Brea continued. “Mistakenly, I made a promise to the Alliance long ago when I was a youth, and I lost someone very dear to me because of it. I was prepared to keep that promise as a sacrifice. But I cannot do it.”
There was a moment of silence before one of the female ministers from the east gave Brea an encouraging smile. “While we are surprised, we fully respect your decision,” she said.
Brea bowed her head in gratitude. “I do wish to serve the Alliance,” she said vehemently. “Which is why I would ask that you allow me to become the head of chancellor and commander Deckards’ guard.”
While everyone else started in shock, Thom chuckled.
Brea turned to look at him as if seeking his permission.
“Take it,” he said, smiling. “You’ll be far better at it than I would.”
She paused briefly to smile back at him.
“If that’s the job you want, Captain,” Archminister Essen said with a warm, matronly smile, “then we would be happy to offer it to you.” And why wouldn’t they? Brea would undoubtedly be the finest general the world had ever known.
“Thank you,” Brea replied, yet she remained in place. She clenched and unclenched her fists at her side. “I have one more request.”
“You do?” Essen asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” Brea lifted her chin another inch. “In the past two months, I’ve made some wonderful new friends, but I also lost my oldest and closest one.” Brea and Vayden exchanged a somber glance. “If Isla’s death taught me anything, it’s not to let my fears keep me from what I most desire.”
She shifted her dark stare then, meeting Thom’s gaze as she concluded, “Or from the man I love.”