Chapter 26 Eveera
Eveera
SNAP! SNAP!
Armond's rough fingers click in front of my face, forcing me to look at my guard, confusion etched in his features.
This war has aged all of us, but it's showing more prevalently on him.
His beard has more gray in it, his hair has grown out more, and the frown lines between his brows have deepened. “Eveera?”
"I'm sorry? What was the question?"
His head tilts to the right, studying me, "the council wants to know, with your plan… if we should move forward on retrieving the new soldiers from the clans." He repeats.
I nod, and Armond starts to turn on his, and panic fills my chest, “Armond!”
"Your Highness?'
“Don’t send anyone to retrieve the soldiers; have the soldiers come to us. Have everyone come to us; invite them all. ” I blurt out.
It's a ridiculous idea — I know that. But if I'm to be diplomatic, if I am to win this war and use their resources to aid in doing it, then I need to put a good foot forward and show them that this relationship will be symbiotic for all of us. "Invite them," I reiterate.
"Invite… who?"
My hands start to clam up as the idea of outsiders coming into my court hangs over me, but we're running out of time. Heaving out a sigh, I look back over to him, "the clan leaders. We’ve gotten an acceptance from General Imir and are waiting on the response from King Eloden. What’s a few more public officials? "
"I’m not sure I would call the clan leaders public officials–” I give him a sidelong look, his voice trailing off before he walks over to me and presses the back of his hand to my forehead, “are you feeling alright? Maybe I should get Marjorie…"
My eyes roll, and I shove off his hand, "I'm fine, Monty. Are you alright? You look like you haven't slept in weeks."
"Have any of us?" No, I suppose not. I think to myself. "You are sure that you want everyone here?"
I nod even though everything in my body is screaming 'no!', it’s a necessary evil. Armond dips his chin, muttering something about calling the council back together.
Slumping down into my seat, I wait, and it’s not long before I sense Rorin. Without even needing to look up, I know he's entered the room, my awareness of him almost instantaneous.
My sense is confirmed when I hear him whisper, “what big news does her highness have for us now?” I glance up to find him talking with Armond — whose lips are tight, not offering Rorin any response – and I snort.
He turns around, his expression curious, when he catches me watching. A familiar, soft presence strokes along the seal, and I frown. “When have you ever asked permission to invade my thoughts?”
“Figured it would be a nice change of pace.” He quips. Hmph. “Want to tell me what this meeting — so quick after the last one — is about?”
“You’ll see.” I voice out loud accidentally, earning myself a few stares.
His deep laugh rumbles down the seal, rattling around inside my head, “I understand that you’re not used to ruling with someone — but typically, it’s polite to share your decisions before calling a council.”
My eyes roll back, and I stand, folding both arms across my chest in the process, “and typically it’s polite to wait for the other person to show up at the wedding before marrying them.”
Rorin’s eyes flash, and I can’t decide if it’s with hurt or humor. “I thought you’d forgiven me for that.”
"Mmm."
“At least that’s what I understood from you screaming my name until your throat grew raw last night.”
Astounded by his boldness, my mouth drops, and I snap, “but was it from pain or pleasure?”
He stalks over to me, the energy around him darkening. I keep my face forward, and my chin raised, ignoring the heat pooling in my stomach from his weighty stare. Moving my chair out of his way, Rorin positions himself flush against my back, effectively invading my space.
The proximity makes it significantly more difficult to focus on keeping my scowl.
My restraint threatens to snap when his fingers brush the hair off my shoulder, making room for him to drop his mouth down and press a kiss there.
Shamelessly, he follows that kiss by grazing his lips up the column of my throat, resting them at the shell of my ear.
“Does it matter? You would have left a mess either way.”
"You…" I hiss underneath my breath, losing my grip to look over my shoulder at him. There's an all too cocky grin spread across his cheeks, and I elbow him back, desperate to put distance between us as the rest of the council members begin to file in and take their seats.
"A-hem… Eveera."
My attention snaps over at Armond's voice, where he's pointing to the entrance of the room. A stern-looking Felix stands under the arch, his foot tapping as he waits for me to start the meeting that I called.
"We all have things to get on with — so I'll make this short. Suram has accepted our invitation, their Consul General Imir will be arriving here in Obsidian shortly, and I have hope that King Eloden and the clan leaders will join him.” A few gasps echo around the room, and I bite my tongue, careful to keep my response more polite than I would usually.
Diplomacy and all.
"Obsidian for the first time since…” My words trail off, stopping the crack building in my voice. “A-hem. Anyways, since war waits for no man, we’ll be temporarily opening our doors to forge a few deals that will bring an end to the tyrannous effect of Baelor."
An irritated sigh sounds from the end of the table, and the serpents on my skin rattle in response.
Swiveling my head, I meet my councilwoman Alina's frustrated glare.
A sadistic and satisfied laugh bubbles out of me as I recall the last time she sat at this table.
From across the room, Felix gives me a warning look, but I ignore it, finding this opportunity too hard to pass up.
Slinking around the table, I inch my way over to her slowly, faint whispers of fear radiating off the men and women seated close to her.
My hands drop sharply on her shoulders, and she flinches from my bruising grip, a high-pitched whimper passing through her lips as I lean over, putting us cheek to cheek.
"What's the matter, dear? Have something to say?" I hiss, grabbing underneath her jaw to jerk her face upwards. "Pity you can't speak — tongue still isn't quite right yet, hmm? I hear growing them back can be a bitch."
"Nightmare," Rorin calls down the seal, but I shut him out as well.
Drumming my fingers along the sleeves of her dress, I push away from her, her willowy frame lurching forward as I walk back to my place at the head. "As I was saying — this is a temporary arrangement.”
"You’re certain about this?" Rorin prods, and I bob my head, not looking back at him.
"Erm— your Highness… es." One of my newer councilmen interjects, "we have not hosted anyone here… much less the heads of different— er um, w-well, it’s been many years."
I rub my fingers across my browbone. "I'm well aware of what we have and haven’t done, and I’m aware of exactly how long it’s been since we’ve done it. While I abhor change even on a good day, our hands are tied. Unless you all want to live underneath Baelor and Eiser’s thumbs."
They continue their tabletop debates when Rorin's first in command pipes up, "just to make sure I'm understanding — as I'm sure everyone else is,"
"Get on with it." I grit.
"You want to have everyone in attendance — the heads of three different clans, the Consul of Suram—”
“And the King of Sorrel, yes.” The room grows silent; their arguments cease as they all stare at me, horrified.
“I'm working on my people skills." I finish, and Max snorts from over in his corner. Unfortunately, I’m too busy watching the guard sputter, “was there something confusing about what I said, Mousy? "
He scoffs, "yes. Many things actually."
I open my mouth to respond and feel a rough palm clasp onto my shoulder, "thank you all for your input. I believe the Queen and I have some things to discuss to arrange this." Pushover. "Please wait for our instructions."
Rorin motions for the council to be dismissed and starts to pull me backwards into him.
With the heavy click of the doors shutting, he spins me around until my ass is up against the table, his molten hazel stare boring into me.
"When — exactly — were you planning on telling me this part of the plan? "
I sigh, folding my arms over my chest, ignoring the way his weighted stare makes me squirm. "Clearly, I had planned for you to find out now."
"Eveera." He growls.
"I barely decided before the meeting was called."
His eyes soften, but his tone doesn't, "you should have called me in first." I push out of his hold, pacing along the back wall.
“So you have mentioned.”
“Ah— nightmare.” He croons, and I halt in my steps, turning slowly over my shoulder.
Rorin looks apologetically at me, and I can't take it. I can't take that look. The one that shows me how fragile they all see me. Like I'm one straw from breaking. "Stop it," I growl. "Don't look at me the same way that they do."
"Like who?" He takes a step forward, and my tendrils leak out of my palms, pooling around my feet and creating a barrier.
"The same way my council does, like Felix, ha— even Armond looks at me that way now.
As if I'm glass, I'm not glass." Rorin opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with an incredulous laugh bubbling out of me, "the Queen of Nightmares — the hellish, unruly bitch queen, who hides herself from the world.
Obsidian's ‘best-kept secret.’ They couldn't decide what they wanted when I stepped out from the dark.
They didn't know what they'd created or how to handle my strength.
They all wanted a ruler, but when I try to be that, they fight me every step of the way. "
"I'm not fighting you." He interjects.