CHAPTER II #4
Clair’s eyes widen just slightly before she glances at Stormfall on my shoulder. Her head tilts as if in consideration, her flames of summoning moving quicker under her arms as she furrows her brows in thought.
“It makes sense,” she murmurs. “He sends you to find his words and his right hand. Morose spoke to us a few days after you left. She told us that day held enough power to wake a sleeping Ancient. Are you what woke him?”
“Somewhat,” I reply softly, thinking of the first time I saw the Ancient’s golden eyes on me. He was sitting so casually on top of that boulder in the forest of Fumagalli.
“But I think it was ultimately Stormfall’s birth that brought him out of his sleep.”
“Fascinating,” Clair grins.
“Yes,” I nod, trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice.
The Princess frowns in reply, apparently catching the cynicism in my voice.
“Has he done something to you?” she asks, “hurt you in any way?”
“Oh!” I reply quickly, “no! No. Nothing of the sort.”
“Then why do you look so skeptical when speaking of the Ancient?”
I sigh and pull my hands gently out of hers. It’s not a gesture made out of spite, but merely one that’s needed as I take a small step to her side and collect my thoughts.
“Alexis…”
I give the Princess a wry smile. “It’s nothing to worry about, Clair. I promise you.”
Clair watches me carefully before taking a step forward. “It’s obviously something. What about him has you so off? Is it his title? Death is nothing to be afraid of...”
“It’s not his title,” I shake my head, “nor his reputation.”
“Then he himself? No? His words?”
The Princess pauses in realization when she sees my face.
“Of course… the prophecy. You’ve been shouldered with a heavy burden, Alexis.”
“I have,” I nod, saying my next words as calmly as possible, “especially when I’m not sure I’m in agreement with it…”
Clair takes a deep breath at my side.
“I battle every day,” I tell her quietly. “I am and will always be human first. What kind of cruel sense of fate chooses a human to destroy her own kind?”
“Your humanity is always something to be proud of,” Clair nods in understanding, “but perhaps the Old World is ready for the change? Destroy is a pretty strong word. Perhaps the prophecy just aims to gives the mortals of the Kingdoms access the magic that always belonged to them.”
Stormfall’s talons grip my shoulder in agreement.
“Perhaps,” I nod and run my hand through my hair, “or perhaps we’re all okay as is…”
“You are,” she replies hard.
“Then why fight to change that?” I challenge, genuinely needing the answer. It’s a question I’ve been asking in various ways, yet no one seems to be able to give me an answer.
Clair remains silent, furrowing her brows.
“Remaking the Old World changes the very nature of who I am. And for what? To go back to the days of old?”
“I don’t think it’s that simple,” she sighs.
“But it is for me,” I note, watching as Alba pushes up from the ground. The snow tiger looks at Clair for a long moment, the two of them communicating silently.
“Alba has knowledge of the past Old World,” Clair turns to me with a frown, “knowledge that has passed down to her from her mother and the mothers before her…”
I look down at the snow tiger and catch her gaze in mine.
“I can guess,” I tell the tiger with a tired laugh. “They tell you that the magic belonged to us all. That humans themselves are not proper of this World, that Hirovale only wishes to restore what used to be…”
Alba takes a strong step in my direction, her gaze piercing and hard. I hold my stance and look back at the magical creature with a brow lifted, daring her to deny my words.
“That is not the way,” I shake my head, then glance back up to the Princess.
“We are here, now, and we have existed for thousands of years. We have thrived. Asking us to change the very nature of who we are because it is what the Old World used to be is only looking towards the past, not the future.”
Clair watches me with thoughtful blue eyes as the flames under her skin once again move with strong precision.
“I understand your battle, Alexis,” she bows her head solemnly, “but I also don’t think the Ancient would force this burden on you if you were unwilling. Nor do I think you would let him. I do believe that time will tell us more, and that we unfortunately have to wait to see those revelations...”
“Just know that McQuoid and I will be here for you and the mortal population of this Old World while we do. Because you’re correct when you say that you’ve thrived,” she smiles and takes my hands again, her voice strong and filled with pride, “and we owe so much to the humans of our Kingdom. They have built the foundation on which we all rest peacefully, as I’m sure your Prince can attest to in Gaumond and his court.
No one, and I mean no one, seeks to see them erased or changed.
We don’t have to look towards the past, but I do believe we can strive to find the middle ground for the future. ”
I offered Chef my hands again after saying goodbye to Clair and her soldiers.
I needed the easy labor to distract me, and Chef was more than grateful to task me with the dull job of peeling and cutting vegetables.
The work was boring but did exactly what I needed, occupying my physical motions so that I didn’t turn to the mindful ones.
My thoughts were riddled with anxiety about the future, so I was glad to be caught in the commotion of the kitchen for the rest of the night.
Towards the late evening, Chef found me still in my work, surprised that I was here and demanding that I eat a small dinner with him. The two of us took a break over ale and his savory chicken soup, an easy way to end my day and one that I was grateful to have as I bid him goodnight.
Keane wasn’t in the room when I got back, though I didn’t suspect he would be.
Tonight was the last night before his coronation and I could only guess as to the requests that were needed of him.
Storm promptly set off to hunt the moment I walked past the balcony, the Bird of Ash cawing almost solemnly when I asked him to stay close.
There was something about the coronation being tomorrow that had me on edge, and not even the hot bath I took could calm that anxiety down.
I made sure to let my hair dry straight as I changed into my night slip, then pulled a blanket off my bed and poured a hefty whiskey.
I ended my night cozied up on my balcony with the book Clair gave me in Red Falls on the Kingdom of Livyatan, the end of it focused on the current politics of the Kingdom and the three brother Princes that reigned over the lands…
The oldest brother, Prince Yaser, was noted to be around the age of forty, the only of the three that I had not yet had the pleasure of meeting.
He began his rule at a young age when his father, the previous King of Livyatan, mysteriously passed in his sleep.
The mantle of Prince Regent was thrust upon him at the early age of twenty, so Yaser maintained a firm grip on the capitol and the lands surrounding it by using both power and fear.
The Prince, it was known, could manipulate the water inside a person’s body, much like Edam did to Lord Daniel, and used that aspect of his summoning to ensure people did his bidding.
It surprised me, then, when the book wrote of Yaser gradually loosening his hold on the capitol as he got older. He stopped using his summoning as a threat against his people, and instead fell into drink and women and the party of his court.
It was from that void that Prince Yiannis, the middle brother and the Leviathan I had the unfortunate chance of meeting in the Bulwark Plains, swiftly took up his brother’s mantle of aggression and force.
He brought the clans of the Kingdom all under submission, making them swear by his and his brothers’ rule until there was no dissent in all of Livyatan.
The youngest of the three and the man who clouded so many of my thoughts was the Peacemaker, Prince Isham.
The author wrote of him in hidden awe, praising the Leviathan for his humble and friendly demeanor while applauding him for stepping outside Livyatan to engage with the other Kingdoms of the Old World.
I scowled when I read every single word written on the man, knowing that if the author had indeed met the Prince, he would see through the facade.
I fell asleep outside with a small frown on my lips, finishing the book with the author considering what, if any, summoning abilities the youngest Prince of Livyatan had.
Isham, like Keane, kept his powers hidden well from the public.
But while Keane used a fraction of his summoning when needed, there were no eyewitness or testimony that could confirm the Leviathan Prince’s, something that irked me deeply in my sleep…
I’m awoken well into the night by the strong hands of my own Prince wrapping themselves around my waist. Keane picks me up from the chair and walks us back into the room, one of his arms leaning down to the bed before he lays me gently under the covers.
“Join me,” I mumble, knowing that sleep is going to take me back at any moment.
Keane presses his lips against my temple with a small smile, “soon,” before I hear him walk away and into the bathing room.
The strong morning sun greets my face, its rays darting through the open balcony and shining into the room.
The sheer tan curtains at either side of the balcony move softly with the early breeze, the fabric billowing towards the end of the bed as I tilt my head back and spot Stormfall sleeping on the bedpost above.
Keane stirs beside me, the feel of him still in bed taking me by complete surprise.
I turn and face the King to Be, smiling at his arm that’s wrapped loosely below my breasts.
I lay my own hand across his bare chest and finger the black chain around his neck, my hips pressing against the side of his thigh before a sigh of contentment falls from my lips.