Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
Father has started having both Thom and I sit in on council sessions. What a waste of time. All they do is talk. No action. And then they look at me expectedly. Thanks for the support.
— From the journal of Violet Andrever
There was, in fact, a shitstorm waiting for us when we appeared. Apparently, people really didn’t like it when their princess went missing. Maybe I should have left a note or something.
Zachariah was in Finn’s face, and Finn was defending me.
“She was left all alone on Ignistar. You didn’t even know she was missing until this morning, and she’s been gone for two days.”
I winced as Zachariah’s face first went pale and then bright red. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see smoke come out of his ears.
Stepping up next to Finn, I waded in. “I wasn’t warded. I’m sure your farsight wielders knew exactly where I was. If it was such an issue, you could have come and gotten me.”
He whirled on me. “You had taken my teleporter too.”
Griff stepped in front of me. “I took her to my family’s home to celebrate Ignistar. And there is no such thing as your teleporter. I am the princess’s Champion, not the regent’s Champion. If I’m anyone’s teleporter, it’s hers.”
I elbowed him. I didn’t need either of them fighting my battles for me.
“I’ve told you before, I refuse to be kept in this castle like a prisoner.
I will go out and see my kingdom and protect my people.
And if your issue is that I wasn’t protected, well, I was with my Champion and the most powerful mind reader in Serentyn.
Besides, you had given me permission to tour the kingdom with Griff.
” I decided against adding my thoughts about needing said permission.
“If you needed me here, how about next time, you tell me. Because I guarantee I will fend for myself and it seems like you do not like the results when I do.”
He looked like he had no idea what to do with me.
“You’re late for the council meeting, Princess.
We’ve delayed long enough trying to find you.
And you, Master of Histories”—he spat at Finn—“there is a mountain of paperwork on your desk that I expect sorted before our next session.” With that unceremonious exclusion of Finn from the council session, he turned on his heel and strode away.
My holiday was certainly over.
I sighed, already exhausted. The peace from the past few days had fallen away.
Freya edged closer from where she had been standing on the sidelines, reaching a hand in my direction. My headache started to ease.
“Do you want us to come with you?” Concern etched Finn’s face. “I can do the paperwork later—”
“No, that will just piss him off more. I’ll be fine.” I met all three of their stares and plastered a smile on my face. “How much trouble can I get into in a room full of councilors?”
I was glad none of them answered that.
I sat in the council room, listening to them talk about the same damn things they had talked about the last time I was there.
Except it was getting worse. They rattled off names of towns where holes in the Veil had been found.
I tried to place them on the mental map I’d made of Serentyn but couldn’t remember the locations of all of them.
Were these big towns or small? How many people had been killed or injured?
I got the answer to that question next, as they rattled off casualty lists. They weren’t just numbers anymore. They had prepared a detailed accounting that made my stomach turn.
A small, wiry man read it off in a monotone voice.
“Town of Newry, fifteen dead, twenty-three missing, presumed to now be hufen. Village of Tralee, the entire population was evacuated after a hole expanded overnight. In Fermoy, five children were among the dead after a hufen attack during a market day.”
Children. I clenched my hands in my lap. Five children who would never grow up because I hadn’t figured out how to do the one thing I was supposed to do. The one thing I had been born to do.
“And what about you?” Zachariah’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. I squirmed under the intense scrutiny of the regent and the dozen council members. “Have you made any progress on your destiny? Or were you too busy playing around to remember that people are dying?”
“I’ve been working—”
“Working?” He laughed, deeply bitter. “Touring around the realm and swimming in the ocean is not work. Mothers are burying their children while you do that so-called work. Families lost everything. All because their destined savior would rather traipse around Serentyn than focus on her responsibilities. Did you think of the people dying at all while you were away?”
Each word hit like a physical blow. He was right. I had been enjoying myself while my people died. While children had died.
“I’m trying—” I was ashamed at how small my voice came out.
“Trying isn’t enough!” he interrupted in a thunderous voice.
“The Orlaith isn’t supposed to try! The Orlaith is the sole person who can fix the Veil and defeat this darkness that surrounds us.
So where is our salvation, Granddaughter?
Where are the vast amounts of power that are supposed to fix everything? ”
The panic rose in my chest. No matter how much I read, how many hours I put into training, I was no closer to understanding anything about how the Veil worked, let alone repair it. It was like any mention of how the Veil had been constructed had disappeared.
What if the prophecy was wrong? Or—the thought chilled me to the bone—what if I wasn’t the one from the prophecy? What if I had absolutely no ability to save anyone here? No reason for being here.
He continued ranting about how I was the only one who could stop people from dying, as if I didn’t know. As if I didn’t feel every death on that list on my shoulders. Their blood on my hands.
Around the table, the council members’ stares weighed me down. Their desperate hope had been mixing more and more with growing doubt every time I came to one of these meetings. How long before that hope disappeared entirely, and shifted to blame?
“Every day you delay”—Zachariah’s voice had lost its thunder now, but the relentless calm was somehow worse—“more people die. More children become orphans. More parents lose everything. And it’s all on you, Granddaughter. Until you fulfill your destiny, it’s all on you.”
I shot to my feet, my chair screeching back on the stone floor before toppling over. “You think I don’t know this? You think I don’t feel every single death? You think I’m not trying everything I can think of? Knowing I’m failing everyone?”
I had shocked them into silence.
“Shouting at me isn’t going to magically make me figure this out.
Especially since no one alive knows how to do it.
” I strode to the door, pausing with my hand on the handle.
“The next time you want to blame me for taking a day to not think about the deaths of my people, all of you should ask yourselves what you’ve done to solve this problem, beyond endlessly discussing it.
” I looked over my shoulder at him. “So fuck off, Grandfather.”
“Manners, young lady!”
I looked him straight in the eye. “Kindly fuck off.” And I strode straight through the door, ignoring the whispers behind me. They could fuck off too. I was doing my best, even if they couldn’t see it.
Even if I doubted myself.
I stormed down the hallway to my rooms, spent.
We’d arrived back mid-morning and it was now past supper.
Significantly past. I opened the door and stopped short.
Griff was on my couch, boots off, feet bare, swords still within easy reach, a picture of relaxation who had certainly made himself at home.
And he was reading. I thought Finn was the reader.
That was what I was going to focus on. Not the myriad of other things that sprang to mind.
And how had he gotten past the wards? I thought they were keyed to only me?
“Hey, Princess.” He didn’t even look up. Just turned the page.
“‘Hey, Princess’? That’s all you have to say?” I shoved the door closed behind me with a crash.
He glanced up from his book. “Think the nightmares are going to stay away now that we’re here?”
I didn’t have an answer for that.
“Thought so. I’d rather be here than wake in a cold sweat and teleport to you before I know what’s happening.” He looked me over, his sharp eyes missing nothing. “Did you eat?”
I shook my head.
He pointed to the table. “There’s a tray over there.”
I looked at him in astonishment as he swung to his feet and propelled me forward with a gentle shove.
“Go eat,” he said gently.
Still in shock, I sat at the table. Griff pulled out the chair at the end and shoved the tray toward me.
As the smell of freshly cooked food overwhelmed me, I realized I was ravenous.
I started shoveling it into my mouth, swallowing before I realized what I was even eating.
The tray was piled high with cheese, cured meats, and fruit—all of my favorites.
“How did you know?” I asked him around a mouthful of dried apricot.
He looked entirely too at home in my living room, with his feet propped up on the chair next to him. “I’ve been in my fair share of long council meetings. They never seem to remember that food is a necessity, and maybe people would be a bit more amicable if they were fed.”
I’d meant how did he know my favorite foods? But I let it go for now.
“And how was our illustrious council?”
I huffed. “Just the same damn things over and over. No one has any idea how to fix the Veil and they’ve put all their eggs in one basket—me. Because some preordained prophecy told them I’m supposed to.”
“I’ve always thought putting all your stock in destiny was the wrong way to go,” Griff mused. “There should be a choice involved, rather than blindly following some supposedly fated path.”
“Zachariah does not agree with that sentiment. I may have told him to go fuck himself,” I added sheepishly.