Chapter 36
Ciana was severely underdressed.
Mud caked her boots as she scanned the arches of the throne room, rays of sun beaming down through panes of colored stained glass. Vines blooming with flowers crawled up the pillars, filling the air with a sweet, earthen fragrance.
Their Vathan escort had been surprisingly welcoming.
They’d allowed them the evening to rest on the Vathan side of the river, sharing a warm meal and skins of crisp, refreshing water.
They were led to the Vathan capital of Elyren that morning with a new sense of urgency.
They hadn’t been given a single moment to stare in wonder at the city—a city built into the towering trees, connected by suspended rope bridges above and smoothly paved roads below.
The Vathan King had ordered that they be brought straight to his throne room. Ciana had to remind herself that his eagerness was a good thing.
She wished, however, that she’d at least been given a half hour to wipe the grime of travel from her face and control the messy frizz of her curls, but she supposed not everything could go according to plan.
At least Sebastian had agreed to play his part.
He was also roughened from the road, but somehow the dirt didn’t stain his face and clothes the way she knew it stained hers. Somehow, his hair was still brushed and tidy, only a stray strand falling forward across his brow.
She wrenched her attention away before she could focus too much on that strand.
He wasn’t happy with their arrangement; of that she was more than sure.
But he was a good enough man—a smart enough man—to know the role he needed to play.
How important it was that Ciana be allowed to do what she needed to do.
Not only for Mariah, but for the world; for the future Ciana wanted more than anything to become reality.
For that future, Ciana would do whatever it took to gain access to the Vathan Archives.
Her gaze landed on the Vathan throne, positioned on a dais above them. A large, imposing chair wrought from smooth wood and more winding vines.
This place vaguely reminded her of the Onitan throne room. The cavernous hall. The throne on the dais. The pillars and darkened tunnels leading into the belly of the palace.
There were no lunestair pillars here, though. But curiously, light still flickered in sconces along the wall, and it wasn’t the wavering gleam of flame.
This place had something like allume, something like the sun-energy Kreah harvested. Ciana tucked that information away.
Quentin heaved a sigh. “How long do you think we’re going to have to wait—”
A herald’s trumpet wailed.
“All rise for His Majesty, King Niktael Zylfaren, Sovereign Chief of Vatha!” The herald’s cry echoed off the stained glass.
A bit dramatic for just the four of them—who were already standing—but Ciana could appreciate the entrance.
Still, she sank into a curtsy as the door banged open. Delaynie did the same, Sebastian and Quentin bowing at the waist.
Two sets of heeled boots echoed off the stone. Ciana glanced up through her lashes.
A tall, athletic man strode in first, dressed in rich, fine clothing of black and emerald green.
Precious gemstones glinted on his long fingers and a heavy pendant hung around his neck.
Atop a head of soft brown waves sat a bronze crown inlaid with garnets and sapphires, framing a classically handsome face.
The Vathan King.
Behind him was a tall man who carried with him a quiet, assured sort of power.
The kind of power that did not immediately strike you but settled low into your bones and wrapped around the very fiber of your being.
He walked as if he were one with the stones and earth around him, as if they were as much a part of his essence as he was of them.
Ciana had no doubts this was Ydros, the God of the Earth, and she wasn’t sure what to make of that. They’d been told very little of Ydros; only that he would likely be here, and that his domain was over the lands of the continent itself.
King Niktael seated himself on his throne, Ydros standing silently beside him. Guards emerged from the shadows, lining the throne room.
“You may rise.” The king’s voice was warm and welcoming, though there was an undercurrent of curiosity racing beneath it.
They rose. Ciana lifted her head, heartbeat quickening when she found the king’s gaze on her. He sat back in his throne, absently rubbing his chin with an elbow on the armrest.
“What a surprise,” he began, attention still on Ciana, “to wake up this morning and be told that four travelers from no place other than Onita had arrived at our Idrixian border and were requesting an audience with the King of Vatha.”
Emboldened, Ciana took a small step forward. “Not a bad surprise, I hope, Your Majesty,” she said with a dip of her chin.
The king smiled. “No. Not a bad surprise at all. But a curious one. After all these years of a closed border, why does your queen seek a relationship now?”
“Perhaps my queen—the new queen—doesn’t wish to see a continent divided any longer. Perhaps she is eager for change and unity.”
“New queen?” The king leaned forward. “So, the rumors are true. Queen Ryenne…”
“Is dead,” Ciana finished. “Queen Mariah Salis is ascended and crowned. Though she doesn’t currently sit on her throne, it’s still very much hers.”
The king shared a sidelong glance with Ydros. The earth god remained silent, only giving Niktael the smallest of nods.
In agreement? Ciana hoped so. Ydros hadn’t fought in the First War, but Rulene said he’d stood against Kol in his own way.
“We mourn the loss of Queen Ryenne,” the king said, “but we look forward to a new relationship with Queen Mariah. It is our honor to welcome members of her court to Vatha.”
Relief swept through Ciana. First step, done.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said. “I am Lady Ciana Visseau. And this”—she gestured to Delaynie— “is Lady Delaynie Albellane.”
King Niktael smiled warmly. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Ciana and Lady Delaynie.” His attention shifted past them. “And your…companions?”
Gods, Ciana hoped the boys weren’t giving this king a death stare.
“We are accompanied by Sebastian and Quentin, two members of Mariah’s Armature.” Shuffles behind her told her that they bowed.
That was good, at least.
Niktael’s brow furrowed curiously. “Legends of the Onitan Armature has reached even our ears. You two ladies must mean a great deal to the queen if she sent members of her sworn guard with you.”
A genuine blush warmed Ciana’s cheeks. “I would be hesitant to claim such a thing, Your Majesty—”
“She does. They do.” Sebastian’s voice rumbled past her. “We protect the Ladies of the Court as if they were our queen themselves.”
“An honorable task,” the king said with a widening grin. “So, why does the Onitan Queen send two of her Armature and two of her Ladies to our nation? Surely, it’s for more than just friendship.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Ciana reached into her bag, pulling out a sealed envelope. A herald rushed forward, taking it from Ciana with a deep bow before scampering up the dais and placing the parchment in the king’s waiting palm. Niktael broke the seal and unfolded the letter, eyes scanning as he read.
Ciana shifted nervously in the silence. She had no idea what the letter said. Mariah had given it to her just before they’d left, instructing her not to read it and to hand it straight to the Vathan King; no one else.
The king chuckled as he finished reading, handing the letter to Ydros. His eyes locked back on Ciana, amusement and something else dancing in his expression.
“Your queen is bold, I’ll give her that. I like it.”
The corners of Ciana’s mouth ticked up in a half-smile. “She’s never been anything but. We believe in her and the world she wants to make.”
“A world that will involve the rest of the continent and our kingdom’s sovereignty, I hope?”
“As long as the rest of the continent and this kingdom is interested in bringing about an end to oppression and tyranny.”
King Niktael’s smile spread wider. “I can see why she chose you to be a member of her court, Lady Ciana. I only wish my own advisors had the same conviction.”
Ciana wasn’t sure what to say, so she chose to answer him with a bright smile.
Along with a blink of her lashes and a brush of her hair off her shoulders for good measure.
She knew she wasn’t imagining the spark in the king’s eyes. A spark that looked a lot like interest.
A worm of discomfort tried to twist in her gut. One that she stepped on and stamped out.
No. She was ready. She could do this.
King Niktael rose from his throne, taking the steps down the dais two at a time. He halted before Ciana, extending a hand. Ciana took it, the metal of his rings cool against her skin.
“If I may,” the king said, “I would be honored to show you to your rooms.” He glanced over her shoulder. “All of you. You are welcome here as long as you wish to stay.”
Well, whatever Mariah had said in that letter, it certainly worked.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Ciana said. “That’s most generous. Delaynie and Quentin will only be staying the night; they are continuing on their journey tomorrow. But Sebastian and I hope to stay for a time. To get to know Vatha and see all your kingdom has to offer.”
Was she trying too hard? She realized—a bit belatedly—that she didn’t have much practice with flirting. Was this even how it was done?
Her worries calmed as the king’s eyes lit. He slid her hand to the crook of his arm. “Please,” he murmured in her ear. “Call me Nik.”
The halls of the Vathan palace were as opulent as its throne room.
The king—Nik—led them down winding, sunlit corridors and across open-aired bridges that swayed beneath the canopy. Just like the city, the palace was built into and around the trees themselves. The earth was everywhere, a physical thing that could be felt and touched and tasted.