Chapter 22 #4
“Because you were ignorant of what you had lost.” He stood, pacing, unable to sit still.
“A monarch’s magic is empowered by the land they rule, and in turn, the strength of their magic ensures fertility and plenty to the land.
When excesses of disease break out, when harvests fail and cattle die in droves, when the rains cease and famine threatens, it is because a monarch has grown weak or derelict in their sacred duties.
This blight that infects my lands? It does so because my magic alone has not been enough to quell the anger the spirits felt when that spire was constructed in my mountains.
That is why my courtiers circle and Lady Ino was so assured she would be named my queen—because they are convinced I no longer have enough magic to satisfy Aureum—to satisfy the elder god of this land, the dragon’s heart.
And they are right. In my pride, I refused to accept it.
It is a simple, hateful truth I have tried to deny, but there it is.
” He rubbed his temples against a threatening headache.
Aurora reached out a hand towards him, her brow furrowed in sympathy.
“You’re not responsible for the weather, or for a failed harvest, Theron. Those are entirely out of your control.”
Why couldn’t she see the truth of this world?
“Perhaps in your time that is true, but it is not so now.”
“You think you can make it rain by what, asking the spirits nicely?” she asked, smiling and shaking her head.
“By conducting the proper rituals for the appropriate tangible god, yes. I have done so in the past.”
“And it rained, just like that?”
“You sound doubtful.”
“It seems like you got lucky.”
He smiled. She didn’t believe him. If she’d never known a world with spirits, with tangible gods who could be petitioned, perhaps the rites and rituals were long lost. Just as he had doubted her powers, she doubted his.
He supposed that was fair, but if she was to be his queen, he would need to show her the truth of his words and this world.
“Then one day soon, I will prove you wrong.”
“I look forward to it,” she smiled indulgently.
He offered her his hand.
“Cheeky little fairy mouse,” he said, chuckling. “How about we make a deal then?”
“Oh, and what kind of deal?” She took his hand and stood.
“If I can make it rain using the proper rituals, then you must do something for me in turn,” he said as they made their way back into the palace proper.
“And what is that?” She fluttered her lashes at him.
Ah, his little temptress was back. But that wasn’t what he wanted from her this time.
“I want you to seriously consider becoming my queen.”
“Didn’t you just say you wouldn’t press me?” She raised a brow though her tone was good-humoured.
“And I meant it. But Aurora, I love you. I want to share my kingdom with you and you alone. I want to rule beside a woman with a kind heart and a fierce temper. I have witnessed you perform veritable miracles. Compared to that, becoming a queen is an easy feat.”
She was quiet for a time as they made their way to his rooms and sat before the feast laid out before them. He dismissed the attendants, eager to continue their discussion.
“What if I wanted to go home, to my own time?” she asked quietly.
He could not force her to become a queen. He knew that. It hurt that she couldn’t see herself being happy in that way, but that was his problem, not hers. Triad knew he’d never wanted the throne either.
“I meant what I said. I would appoint a successor and go with you.”
“Would you be able to be happy like that?”
He was touched by her concern. Theron considered her question, sipping his wine.
“I don’t know. In the beginning, I didn’t want the crown.
It was thrust upon me the moment my brother died.
I have grown accustomed to it, to the power and influence it affords me.
Would I be happy without it? It is rare indeed when I allow myself to think of a time when I would be both alive and not a king.
The truth is that I don’t know. What I do know is that I would trade this crown for you in an instant. ”
“Truly?”
“Yes, truly. Can you doubt that after today?”
“I…no, I don’t suppose I can.” She smiled softly. “You needn’t attempt to summon rain. I will seriously consider becoming your true queen.”
“Oh no, I’m most definitely going to summon the rain. How else will I convince you I’m speaking truthfully about a monarch’s powers?”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him.
“You’re going to look very silly when you fail.”
“Not as silly as you will when I prove you wrong.”
She chuckled and tasted her food. But her gaze was troubled.
“I want what we have to work, Theron. Truly, I do. But I fear that no matter the choice, one of us will lose something precious to us.”
Did he consider his crown and position precious?
Yes. It gave him the power to make his kingdom a better place.
It allowed him to protect the people he loved.
If he left his time for hers, he would lose everyone he’d ever known and loved.
But who said that had to be the end? Perhaps it was simply that today he’d gambled everything and won, but he was feeling lucky—hopeful.
“Who knows, as we train your magic, you may even be able to travel back and forth at will. We could see your loved ones and return mere moments after we leave. What I mean is that neither choice need remain permanent, and our future has not yet been decided.”
She choked on her next sip of wine.
“Aurora?”
“No, it’s nothing. Why don’t you tell me what other things you believe you can do as the high priest of the great dragon’s heart?”
He narrowed his eyes at her but decided to let it pass.
Had she seen something? If she had, he’d hoped she would trust him with it, but maybe she still needed more time.
Perhaps what she needed most to make her decision was to feel safe enough to trust him.
And so for now, he would teach her about rites and rituals, and hope that one day soon she would open up to him.
Theron awoke sometime before dawn to an empty bed and the sound of a gentle rain. He looked around frantically for his wife only to feel the crackling of paper under his palm. A note? Squinting in the predawn light, it was only barely readable.
I’m taking a walk in the gardens.
Aurora
Her night vision truly was a marvel. Theron contemplated going out there to meet her, but perhaps she needed some time alone. Yes, he should give her the chance to reflect. The palace was safe enough for her to wander within its walls.
Lying back down in their bed, he sighed.
What if she didn’t want to be his queen?
What if she did, but it made her miserable with homesickness?
As much as he was curious to hear more about her time, would even want to see it, he wasn’t sure he would be happy there.
Everyone he knew and loved was here. His purpose, his responsibilities, all of it tied up in his crown.
How was he to protect Aurora without it?
Though Fate and Passion had bound them, that didn’t mean they would be granted a life of bliss and comfort.
Myrina seemed to believe the blessed connection had a higher purpose.
But if it was to destroy Drakon, as he now suspected, did that mean their passion served no purpose once the wishes of the goddesses were met?
Theron closed his eyes and tried to will the vexatious thoughts away.
Perhaps these were the same kinds of torments that had driven Aurora from their bed.
Theron got out of bed and made his way to his balcony.
The breeze and the cool, misty rain were refreshing.
His rooms faced the gardens and the lands beyond the capital.
Aureum was spectacularly beautiful, he’d always thought so.
From the spiked, snowy peaks of the Dragon’s Spine Mountains, to the gently rolling hills of the Dragon’s Flank, to the bountiful river lands, to the austere and rugged rocky desert in the far west, to the sheer, unforgiving cliffs in the south.
He loved his people too. Honest, resilient, warm-hearted, and fierce—deserving of being the people of the dragon’s heartlands.
Theron was proud to be their king. He loved Aureum—this Aureum.
And yet in Aurora’s future, Aureum was a parched desert under the thumb of Viridis. He couldn’t help but grieve.
There had to be a way to save his kingdom from that fate.
Perhaps it would be best to tell his advisors sooner rather than later what his wife had revealed.
Maybe there were things they could do now that would correct the wretched path that lay ahead.
As Theron turned from his balcony to inform his attendants that he was awake, a blade was pressed against his throat, the bronze tip breaking the skin.
“Theron, please just listen to me.”
“Batea,” he hissed. “You expect me to listen when you sneak into my rooms and press a blade to my throat?”
“No, which is why I poisoned the blade.”
“You bitch!” he snarled, reaching out with his magic to break her bones—only to find the magic inside him had stilled, frozen. “What have you done to me?”
“Stopped you from killing your only true ally.”
“Batea—”
“If I’d wanted you dead, I could have easily done so. Nireus was never clever enough for his position, and you have let your guard down, no matter that you are surrounded by traitors and shadow cats. Your fated has made you soft,” she hissed.
“What poison did you use?”
What in the Loom was it? He’d never heard of a poison that could subdue wild magic. Only magic could combat magic. Had she found some magical creature or plant to concoct this? If so, he feared there was little chance his scholars would know the antidote.
“I’ll tell you once you’ve heard me out.”
“How long do I have before this poison kills me or causes irreparable damage?”
“Long enough.”