Chapter 3 #3
It seemed karmic that she was likely now about to face her very own interrogation, after which she imagined she’d be locked away and ransomed back to her mother for a hefty price.
An entire day had passed since she left the castle.
Had the queen noticed her absence yet? Surely she had, since the news of Alethea’s prophecy had no doubt made it back to her and her advisors.
Balthasar and Kerrigan peeled off after entering camp, but Dawes hung back and rode closely behind Nakir, toward a larger tent situated in the center of all activity.
“You don’t need to hover,” Nakir murmured, throwing an annoyed look over his shoulder. The level of familiarity between them fascinated Alethea, but she was primarily focused on surviving whatever she was about to face to consider it with too much depth.
“Oh, I think I do,” was Dawes’s low reply.
Alethea didn’t know much about rebel-leader tent locations, but something in her gut told her this particular white tent belonged to Nakir. Standing outside of it was a woman who could only be a few years older than Alethea, and she did not look pleased.
Even in her displeasure, she was beautiful.
Her golden skin and dark brown hair hinted at Empyrean ancestry, but it was rude to assume someone was descended from the fallen Primal god of Creation by the color of their skin or the slight point of their ears.
She wasn’t much taller than Alethea, but her stern demeanor was imposing enough as she watched them approach, her russet eyes narrowed dangerously, ire reserved for a singular target.
“Told you,” Dawes shot back as he dismounted, offering his reins to a nearby soldier.
“Nakir. Vassilis. Hasan.” The woman’s voice was quiet but full of rage as she stood there with crossed arms. She was dressed in full leather armor, but she wore no weapons—though perhaps she didn’t need any, since her glare was deadly enough.
Nakir dismounted and held his hand out for Alethea to take. It was something they had done several times now, but her uncertainty made her hesitate.
“Oh, she’s unbound? Thank the gods. Wouldn’t want anyone to think we were kidnappers.”
“Emilia, if you’d let me explain—”
“Don’t Emilia me.”
“Emi,” he corrected himself instantly.
Their familiarity struck Alethea as startlingly candid. They must be lovers if she was allowed to speak to him in such a way. No one had ever spoken to her mother like this. At least, no one but her father.
The woman sighed, though her expression stayed narrowed. Alethea still did not take Nakir’s offered hand, too afraid of making the altercation worse.
His brow furrowed. “You’ll need to dismount so they can take my horse to be fed and groomed.”
She glanced between the feuding couple a few more times before taking his hand and allowing him to help her off the horse. Her knees wobbled and her thighs screamed from the day-long ride, but at least she didn’t collapse.
Nakir released her quickly and turned back to the small, angry woman. “Now, as you were saying?”
Alethea’s mouth fell open at the fact he was openly inviting Emi to speak her mind in front of countless soldiers, several stopping and eyeing them all curiously.
Queen Zenobia would never allow such candor, especially in front of her subjects—nor would she accept the way the soldiers so obviously gawked and eavesdropped.
Balthasar was right. She wasn’t in her mother’s court anymore.
Emi glanced around for a moment, possibly thinking the same thoughts as Alethea. “Let’s go inside,” she finally stated. “The rest of you,”—she turned to the brave souls who had stopped by to watch—“I’m sure you have better things to do.”
They didn’t need to be told twice, clearing out quickly enough to demonstrate they either respected her or feared her.
Likely both. She huffed as the crowd dispersed and pushed her way into the tent.
Dawes’s brows shot up to the sky, and Nakir shook his head, rolling his shoulders back as he followed her.
“This will be fun,” Dawes murmured, gesturing for Alethea to follow.
The interior was larger than she expected.
On the far end was a large bedroll on a wooden cot and a small, collapsible table that held a few personal effects, and on the other side was a large wooden desk covered in maps and various reports.
There was no down-feathered bed, no lush carpets, nothing to symbolize grand ambitions or a need for finery.
Emi leaned over the desk and stared at the papers absently, barely containing her seething rage.
The air crackled with static tension. Alethea hovered behind Nakir, inching closer to Dawes, as if she could use their larger bodies to shield her from this woman’s wrath.
As terrifying as the two men were, she would much rather face them than her.
“Where were we?” Nakir asked, earning him a strangled, incredulous noise from Dawes.
Emi lifted her chin up at Nakir, defiance, anger, and disappointment flashing in her eyes. Several long seconds passed before she answered him as she seemed to debate what exactly to say.
“I know you’re grieving. We all are. Yes, losing Goran changes... well, everything. And above that, I know what he was to you. But you’re not the only person he was like a father to.”
Alethea studied the ground at her feet, suddenly very aware that she had no business being in this room.
Emi wasn’t done. “But don’t you see, you taking your rightful place as the leader of this rebellion was always how he planned it?
All this sacrifice, it was for you, Nakir.
For you to lead us to a better future.” Emi gestured with an open hand to Alethea, who flinched as if she were the one being reprimanded.
“Is this really who we want to be? Look at me right now and tell me this wasn’t your plan all along.
Tell me you didn’t go to Hyelea for this. ”
“I didn’t go to Hyelea for this,” Nakir promised, holding both hands out in front of him and stepping forward.
“We were meeting... with our contact when we heard someone near our camp. I went to investigate, and that’s when I found her.
She knew who I was, so I made a snap decision.
I couldn’t have her going back to the capital and telling them how close we were—not with so much at risk. ”
“You could have just left her there.”
Alethea thought about what would have happened if Nakir had let her take that fall, and her stomach turned.
There was no telling how long she would have lasted in those woods without her horse, or if she would have even made it back to the castle on her own.
She waited for him to defend his actions further, to tell the daring tale of how he’d saved her life to redeem himself, but it didn’t come.
Like he wasn’t interested in playing the part of the hero.
Nakir let go a long breath. “I hear you. I hear that this isn’t who you want us to be.”
“No,” Emi corrected sharply, stepping forward. “This isn’t who we are. This isn’t who you are.”
“I know,” he promised. “You’re right. I made a judgment call in the moment, and I will deal with it. Do you trust me?”
Emi deliberated before her shoulders dropped and she gave him a weary look, placing an understanding, familiar touch on his arm. “Of course I trust you. Just... be careful.”
She sighed as she shoved past Nakir and finally spoke to Alethea directly, her tone cool, if a bit clipped.
“Good evening, Your Highness. I’m Emilia Sideris, but you can call me Emi.
If these men, or anyone in this camp, step one toe out of line, trust that I will fry their brains before they can even blink.
” She held her hands open, and Alethea heard the rumblings of a sudden storm, though she knew the sky had been cloudless a moment ago.
Lightning danced between Emi’s fingertips, and a chill ran down Alethea’s spine at the sheer power this woman commanded. A dark mage indeed.
“I’m sure we will have all this nonsense cleared up shortly, all right?
” Emi didn’t wait for a reply before turning to Dawes and offering him a small smile.
“I’m glad you made it back safely,” she said with sincerity.
“I’ll see you at dinner. I’m off to contain this story of our fearless leader kidnapping a helpless princess.
And for the gods’ sake, get her something to eat. She looks starved.”
She left the tent with a huff, the flaps rustling behind her as she departed.
Dawes whistled quietly, hands behind his back. “Well, that went well.”
“Shove off, Dawes.”
“She made several points.”
Nakir’s tone darkened in a warning. “Seriously. If you could be literally anywhere else.”
The soldier took the hint and departed the same way Emi had gone, leaving Alethea alone in a war tent with Nakir Hasan.