Chapter 36 Lara #2
Lara sat, Aren taking the place next to her, and one of their servants circled the table with drinks.
Hector gave a slight cough, then said, “As much as we desire pleasantries, Your Graces, the situation in Maridrina has grown quite dire with the loss of trade with Harendell. Famine had long been an issue even during King Silas’s reign, but the destruction that Empress Petra brought down upon Vencia has made the situation worse.
We were heavily reliant on Harendell’s exports of cattle, pork, and grain, all of which have been lost to us due to the conflict with Ithicana.
To make matters worse, Valcotta’s herds have suffered a wasting disease that required culling, and they are no longer selling north. ”
Sickness pooled in Lara’s stomach, because it seemed all crises were coming to a head at once. “I understand. Ithicana also suffers the effects of Harendell’s blockades, but there is little to be done about them.”
“I recognize this is a sensitive issue, but is that entirely the case?” Hector rested an elbow on the table.
“Because it is our understanding that all the Harendellians want from you is the condemnation of Princess Ahnna for the crime of murdering King Edward, as well as her unprovoked attack on Queen Alexandra.”
Aren stiffened, and Lara took his hand under the table, willing him to keep his temper in check. “It is a complex situation.”
“We have been informed that there are witnesses,” Hector pressed. “That there can be no doubt in any mind that the princess was the perpetrator, and that there is no argument for self-defense, for the only injury done to the princess was to her pride.”
Aren’s hand tightened, and Lara felt her own anger rise. Biting down on it, she said, “We have come to understand that there was, indeed, provocation.”
Hector tilted his head, and Lara found herself wondering who he was before he was voted into Sarhina’s parliament. Not a nobleman, for his hands were thick with calluses, and she knew that the majority of those voted in were of the common civilian population.
“In what sense?” he asked. “Because we were told that King Edward was stabbed to death in his own bedchamber. In his own bed, in fact.”
Lara considered how much she wished to tell this man, who was a stranger, and instead asked, “What is it you are hoping to achieve here, sir?”
He met her gaze for a long moment, then looked away, his discomfort palpable.
“Princess Ahnna broke Harendell’s laws, and it is within their right to demand she be punished accordingly.
” His throat moved as he swallowed hard, but then he met her stare again.
“What is the punishment for murder in Ithicana, Your Grace? Is it not execution?”
It was, and Lara hated where this was going.
Her countryman cleared his throat, glancing at his peers once before pressing onward.
“We are sympathetic to the pain of condemning a family member, but trade must flow. Maridrinian families are starving, and if what we learned during our travels through your bridge is true, Ithicanian families are living one meal to the next with that unlikely to improve until storm season ends. How many must suffer, how many must die, for the sake of familial loyalty, Your Graces?”
Aren jerked his hand from Lara’s grip, on his feet in a flash of movement.
He slammed his fists down on the table with such force that all the glasses jumped.
“Edward was scheming to kill my family and take my throne in an act of war. My sister’s actions were in defense of herself, her family, and of Ithicana, so she is guilty of nothing. ”
He wasn’t wrong and Lara had no intention of undermining him, but neither did she want this to spiral out of control.
They needed Maridrina, and Sarhina had sorely undermined her control over her queendom.
If her parliament voted against aiding Ithicana, there would be nothing Sarhina could do unless she dissolved all that she had built.
Lara’s gut told her that her sister, no matter the circumstances, would refuse to do that.
There was fear in the eyes of the Maridrinians as they regarded Aren, who was bigger than most men, visibly armed, and possessed of a dangerous reputation, but to their credit, they didn’t stand down.
Hector stood to face Aren, holding tight to his composure.
“Our nations were not built around what they can create, grow, farm, or hunt for themselves, Your Grace. For living memory, we have been united by trade through Ithicana’s bridge, and this conflict has stopped that trade in its tracks.
Some nations will fare better than others—Harendell being one of them—but Maridrina will falter swiftly without access to the livestock raised in the north.
We have been given the power to govern by the people of Maridrina, and we will act in defense of them.
But that does not mean we are without compassion, for we desire Ithicana to thrive as well.
Even if you are able to repel Harendell’s inevitable invasion during the calm season, I must ask, what is Ithicana without the bridge?
What life is there in this nation besieged by storms if the bridge does not provide? ”
Aren didn’t answer, and Lara struggled to keep grief from rising to her face because she knew these questions were what kept him awake night after night.
“For the sake of all who depend on the bridge, we beg of you to reconsider your stance and make peace with King William, Your Grace.”
“You want me to condemn my sister?” Aren’s voice sounded as though it had been dragged across gravel. “You want me to let them take her to be hanged, drawn, quartered, and then leave her corpse for the crows to pick at?”
The other two Maridrinians rose, adding strength and support to their countryman as he said, “One life, for the sake of tens of thousands, Your Grace. Your noble sacrifice will stop a war in its tracks.”
Except that it wouldn’t.
Aren huffed out a breath. “You think so, do you? You think that if we concede and give Ahnna to William to execute that all will go back to normal, and endless fucking cows will run through the bridge to fill Maridrinian bellies, just as they always have? Because I don’t.”
He slammed his fists down again on the table, and the Maridrinians twitched in alarm.
“If I give them my sister, who is innocent, they will not see a king making a noble sacrifice but rather weakness. And weakness is something Harendell will always seek to exploit, so rather than gathering up cows to send to Maridrina, they will ask for us to sacrifice more. And more. Until William is the Master of the Bridge and Ithicana is no more.”
Silence stretched for a long time, and Lara all but held her breath as she waited for Hector to respond.
Sweat beaded on his temple, but Lara could see that he was thinking through what Aren had said.
Finally, Hector cleared his throat. “If that is what you perceive to be Harendell’s goal, and if you see them taking the bridge as an inevitability, then perhaps that is the concession you must make, Your Grace. ”
God have mercy, Lara silently whispered. Give us the strength to endure this moment.
“You’re suggesting I abdicate to William?” Aren’s knuckles whitened, and Lara found herself staring at his fists, wondering how much harder Hector could push before Aren used them. “You’re suggesting that I give them the bridge?”
“From your own lips, this will be a war you cannot win,” Hector replied.
“I lived under Silas Veliant, a man who’d sacrifice any number of his people’s lives for pride.
The high road is one worth considering, especially given the empress of Valcotta will surely grant Your Grace and his family asylum.
It might also be a way to save Princess Ahnna’s life, as the empress can protect her. ”
Every part of Lara wanted to intervene, but she did not move from her place at Aren’s side as he shouted, “Get the fuck out of my house!”
Hector crossed his arms. “Pride it is, then? This is why Sarhina has the right of it: No one man should have this sort of power over a nation.”
“Get out!” Aren screamed, and the door flung open, Jor and others pouring into the room. “You are not welcome here!”
“As you like.” Hector looked to his peers, who all stood with their chins raised in defiance.
“But know this, Your Grace. If it comes to war and there is a vote as to whether to send Maridrinians to fight, I will vote Nay! because I will not send my countrymen to die for the sake of the pride of yet another king!”
Aren lunged, and Lara surged to her feet, catching hold of his arm to keep him from hitting the man in the face. “Get them out of here,” she snapped at Jor. “Now!”
Holding tight to Aren’s arm, she muttered, “They’re leaving. They’re going,” but she wasn’t even sure he heard her. Aren was shaking, and Lara didn’t know if it was rage or something worse.
Jor and Lia urged the Maridrinians from the room, the door slamming behind them.
“They’re gone,” she said. “They’ve left the room.”
“Good!” Aren roared. “Who the fuck does he even think he is? Some farmer from a field thinking he can play at politics?”
Like a cord stretched too tight, Lara felt her control snap. “At least he kept his temper! My God, Aren, what are you thinking? We need Maridrina, and you just shouted those who rule out of our house.”
“He told me to abdicate, Lara. What would you have me do, pour him a drink?”
“Play the fucking game!” she shouted. “That’s what I want you to do, Aren. Because that’s what kings do.”
They stared each other down, and Lara hated every second of it because she wanted to be united with him in all things. But the stakes were too high for her to concede just because quarreling with him hurt her soul.
“I need some air.” Aren twisted away from her and stormed toward the door. “You can go play the game, Lara. You’ve always been better at it.”