Chapter 33
Cion
Vane and Soren became specks on the horizon, finally disappearing beyond the peaks. Still, Cion stood on the outcropping of rock, watching the empty air. Behind her, the others lingered, waiting for her to make the next call.
Queen.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry and thick with emotion she could not quite place.
Her father had not loved her as a child, always as a tool.
It was how he had seen most people. If he didn’t have a use for him, they had no place at all in his eyes.
Now that he was gone, she didn’t feel sadness or even anger.
She simply felt nothing.
“Princess?”
She turned, finding a girl had stepped forward.
She looked even younger than Cion herself, but she wore armor rippling with scales, a single medal on her breast denoting some honor.
If Cion looked closely, she could likely tell what the girl had done to receive it, but they didn’t have time for it, nor did the achievement matter anymore.
“You may refer to me as ‘my queen’ or ‘Your Majesty,” Cion said, lifting her chin.
The girl bit her lip. “Apologies, my queen, but I must ask. Will the generals listen to us? We’ve committed treason and run with those who I presume were responsible for the late king’s death. We just want to know if we aid a rebellion or the crown?”
Cion’s mouth curved into a slow, cold smile. “Does the answer matter to you? Will it change what occurs?”
A boy stepped forward too—Jona, one of the riders who had been training Cion and Ilav. “We follow you, my queen, but there are few of us… If you do not control Aren’s army, we want to know.”
“You want to know if I am leading you to your deaths.”
Heads nodded, though no one moved to run or strike her as she admitted, “I cannot tell you, not with certainty. I will do everything in my power to convince the generals to side with me against the threat that may be coming for us if Vane and Soren do not succeed. Is that a good enough answer for you?”
The girl glanced at Jona, and he nodded. “It is enough. You are a rider now, my queen. You’ll learn we tend to stick to protecting our own.”
As if in response, Valhamnor roared, crawling up the side of the mountain.
We should return to your camp, princess.
Cion’s lips parted. You’re finally speaking to me?
You made the right choice, trusting the godling and her demi-god consort. And besides, as ‘queen’, you’re going to need me.
Cion shut her eyes briefly as the dragon’s shadow fell over her. When she opened them, all ten of the riders who had followed her to what could be their deaths were kneeling on the stony ground, head bowed.
Something was coming for this world. Whether it was destruction from the hand of a god king or a great change brought on by the return of magic, she would have the heavy duty of keeping Aren from falling in the wake of it.
“Rise and call on your dragons, riders,” she said quietly. “It’s time to face what lies ahead.”