CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
THE GENERAL OF THE VATHIAN army leads us into one of the largest tents I’ve seen in this encampment so far.
As we enter, there are other warriors of high rank milling around a large table supporting an enormous map of Damorleia with a bunch of colored miniature flags.
Everyone is in armor and appears exhausted as they turn their heads in our direction.
I keep my facial features in check, making sure to get the nerves I feel under wraps in a predominantly male-filled room, but I do spot a couple imposing-looking females scattered among them.
I wish I had Nero with me, but I thought it would be best to keep him with Vasari, at least until we figure out what’s going on here.
Before any of them can open their mouths the general announces to the room, “On your knees for the missing Princess of Damorleia!”
A couple fae drop to their knees, making my gut clench with discomfort at the sight, even though I know this is supposed to be my birthright. “Please rise. There’s no—”
“How do we know she’s even who she says she is?” One of them pipes up, crossing his huge arms across his chest, making his shoulders look broader.
Jesper makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a growl and a hiss, which would make me laugh if I didn’t see the glint of metal twirling in his hand.
What shocks me though, is it isn’t him who jumps in before I can speak, but Talyn.
“Ravina, formerly known as Maeven, has been in hiding since she was a child, but I know without a doubt in my bones that she is our Princess, and you will give her the respect she deserves. She’s here to assist us, and as the last Gallalaus fae, she will help stop the tyranny in the north.”
He scoffs. “There’s no way she’s a Gallalaus fae. Prove it.”
The female beside him shakes her head. “We all saw them ride in with a royal dragon. Whether she is the princess or not, the dragons have spoken on who they’ve chosen to rule.” Her gaze meets mine with a spark of mischief and challenge as she dips her chin low.
I smile and dip my head back at her before turning my attention on the male.
We had suspected that some fae might not be so accepting of my presence, especially if they thought I abandoned them—even if I was hidden and manipulated with a magick necklace—so we decided that if it came to it, I would give them a show of my magick.
Without breaking eye contact with the warrior, I go through the motions of summoning all my elemental magick.
Striking my belt, I summon flame before reaching for the water in a nearby goblet, dousing the fire that rests in my palm.
With an exhale I grasp the stale breeze within the tent, strengthening it, whipping it around the room, knocking parchment to the floor and tousling hair.
It comes to me as easy as breathing now.
I don’t have to think about it, so I watch their faces, already seeing a mix of shock, surprise, disbelief and irritation, and it lights a fire in my gut.
They want a show? They need to see it for themselves? Fine. Let’s do this.
I place my hands on the ground, summoning roots from a nearby tree, creating a massive and intricate throne at the head of the table. Several of the men and one lithe woman are forced to move out of the way. They stare as delicate snowdrops bloom in front of their eyes, decorating the top.
But I’m not finished yet.
Reaching out, I search for the minds in the room, just like how Jesper taught me, breaking through their walls with ease and holding them all prisoners in their own bodies.
Then, taking a deep breath to staunch the fear as I access the magic I know least well, I pull the shadows from the corners of the room, letting them become tangible tendrils that wrap around me like an old friend.
I’ve worked non-stop to bring these shadows out of hiding and I’ll never neglect this part of my magick again.
I let the shadows adorn me for long enough that I can step up onto the table, hiding the fact that they aren’t yet strong enough to lift me.
With relief I let them recede gradually behind me as I walk forwards and take my place before my wooden throne and then turn to face my audience.
The fighting magick of the Vopn Fo washes over me as my anger builds at the fact that I feel on display, that I’m forced to prove myself over and over again—and because I’m in their minds I know they all feel it.
I show each of them a fear unique to their own mind, and when I have their full attention, I grab throwing blades off the nearest warrior and whip the three of them consecutively down the long table and through the clothing of the warrior who doubted me, pinning him to a wide wooden beam: one in his left sleeve, one in the crotch of his trousers, and one through his hair, an eyelash width from the tip of his pointed ear.
Before I let go of their minds, I whisper into them. “I am the last of my kind, and all I want is harmony for my people and revenge on those who ripped my family away from this realm. Help me bring peace back to Damorleia.”
The room lets out an audible exhale as each and every fae in the room drops to their knees with their head bowed, and the male who originally challenged me ducks his head. “My sincerest apologies, Princess Ravina. Let me beg for forgiveness by giving you my sword.”
Someone behind me growls and I think it might have been Talyn, but that must be in my head.
Aemon feels my confusion and presses against my mind.
“It’s his way of saying he will fight for you.
If you accept, you need to walk over to him.
Take his sword and cut him with it to show that he will bleed for you if need be.
It’s usually reserved for the Queen’s personal army. It would move him up in rank.”
“He would be one of my knights?” It takes every effort to keep my face blank as I pretend to appraise the male in front of me.
“No, just that you would accept him to fight in your army. The army of Spirrix, the Royal Province of Damorleia. It’s a great honor to be chosen.”
I feel the tension brewing in the air as the wait goes on. “If I say no?”
Aemon brushes a tendril along the small gap at the nape of my neck.
“They might see it as disrespect, considering the Queen’s army is all but gone.
Scattered to the wind if anyone is left after the late Queen’s downfall.
If you say no, it is usually customary for the Queen to kill the fae in question. ”
My chest becomes heavy with emotions as I make my decision.
The bottom of my boots feel like they’re filled with lead as I move towards the male who doubted my identity and release the daggers so that he, too, can kneel.
My hand grasps the hilt of the sword and I take a moment to admire the simple silver blade.
“Is there anything I need to say?”
I feel his pride pulse though our mate bond. “Just speak from the heart.”
My palm squeezes the hilt. “Rise…” It’s then I realize I don’t even know the male’s name.
“Captain Theo Numix,” he supplies, staying on his knees.
“Rise, Captain Theo Numix.” He does as I ask, and I see the steadfast determination in his gaze.
“As you can assume, this is all new to me. You would be the first warrior I personally accept to join the true army of Damorleia, to fight for your realm, for me as your Queen. But before I do, I want to know why I should, when only moments ago you were set against not believing the words from your general and my mates.”
A few murmurs go up around the room at declaring the heirs of the provinces as my mates, but I ignore them.
A flicker of shame passes his features before it’s gone. “Your Majesty, if I may speak freely?”
I nod.
“I’m a refugee from outside the city of Maleen.
I was only a fledgling when the attack on your family happened.
I love Vathia, but Spirrix will always be my home, and I want to right the wrongs that were done to my Queen and my home, and for others like me who needed to flee to escape the massacre that happened that night and months after.
I apologize for not believing your word, but I couldn’t let that hope bloom without the strongest of proof.
And now that you’re back, I know now that this is where I need to be.
If you don’t see me fit enough for your army, then please dispatch me to the aether, but I swear to you that I will bleed for you, your mates and all the citizens of Damorleia so I can help you bring the realm into the peace we all deserve. ”
His passion strikes me in the chest and when I speak, emotion clogs my throat. “I would be honored to have you fight for me,” I state firmly but not without kindness. “Your hand, Captain.”
Without hesitation, he holds his hand out with his palm up, and with precision that I’ve been mastering, I slide his blade across the meaty part of his palm, watching with morbid fascination as the crimson liquid pools before dripping onto the dirt floor.
One by one, five other fae kneel, asking for the same thing—one of them being the female who challenged me.
This time I can’t help but stare back at my mates in surprise.
They all look proud—even Talyn—and Killian has a slight smirk that managed to escape his stoic exterior, while Jesper seems almost disappointed he didn’t get to maim someone.
This is going to be a long day if this keeps occurring, but one by one I go through the few that dropped to their knees, asking them all the same question. Shockingly, they all seemed to have similar stories.
“Those of you who pledged yourself to my army: you will stay stationed here until further notice,” I tell them before turning to the general who seems to be waiting with more patience than I expected.
“I apologize for commandeering your meeting, and a few of your warriors,” I tell him, worried all of a sudden that I’ve made a mistake doing this here.
“No need to apologize. I’m honored you chose from my warriors, but we do have important matters to discuss if you don’t mind taking a seat.” He gestures to the wooden throne I summoned in my display earlier.
I dip my head in respect and then press against Jesper’s mind using the Szellemi magick, which he opens a crack immediately to let me in.
It’s not nearly as easy as a mate bond, but will still let me communicate if I can see them—if I can access their mind .
“Everything okay Little Beastie? That display of magick has me hard as a rock I’d have you know.
Please tell me this is you asking me to sneak out of here with you so I can be the one on my knees in front of you—”
I purse my lips to stop the giggle that wants to erupt from my body. “Jesper. I need you to go let Nero out of his travel cage. I think it’s safe for him not to peck out anyone’s eyes. Not to mention I think we are going to be here for a while.”
He pouts and then winks before leaving the tent while my other three males join me at my side. Talyn still stays a distance away, but I would say that I think we’ve had some improvement so far… Unless it’s all an act.
My feelings war inside me. I swear, once we get some downtime, he and I will be having a conversation.