Chapter 19
Under pressure
LORIEN
The council chamber is colder than usual, the water denser and heavier as my mood clouds the seas swirling around us.
I sit at the head of the crescent-shaped table, occasionally glancing at the trident that rests next to me, letting its glow remind everyone who I am.
I who must be, and who they must obey. Around me, the assembled advisors and generals murmur among themselves, their voices low but taut.
I tighten my grip on the arms of the chair, the rough coral biting into my palms.
“Enough.”
It isn’t, and it won’t ever be. Not with the anger pouring through my veins over the outrage that happened a few days ago. Jude slept for two nights before he woke, and now he’s sleeping while I convene a war room and make damn sure this doesn’t happen again.
Silence ripples around me like a shockwave.
Orlith clears his throat, leaning forward as he decides he’s going to be the one to move proceedings on. His silver hair floats around his face like a halo, though there’s nothing angelic about the steely look in his eyes and I’m relieved he’s as offended as I am.
“Generals, we were discussing the kelpie incursion near the Eastern Reefs.”
“Not an incursion.” My voice is sharp, my anger barely leashed. “An attack. Let’s call it what it is.”
Soren sighs, and my head snaps to him. He’s drawing my ire, trying to get me to calm before I rile the generals. They’re already far too quick to violence and my temper will only fuel their lust for war, and my advisor is using a strategy he’s used a thousand times before to cool things down.
I’m not sure I’m inclined to let it work this time.
“They targeted Jude,” I snap, stopping him from speaking. “They knew he’d go into the library and they waited. This wasn’t random. This was calculated. An act of war.
“You’re sure they wanted Jude?” Orlith asks, his tone cautious. “They could have been waiting for you, Lorien.”
“We all know they wanted him.”
My gaze sweeps across the table, daring anyone to challenge me.
None do.
Orlith frowns. “Your Majesty, Jude is—”
“Under my protection,” I finish for him, my voice a low growl. “Or have we forgotten he’s my concubine?”
There’s a beat of silence.
And then another.
One of the generals leans forward, his pitch-black eyes meeting mine.
“No one questions your protection, Majesty. No one questions your decision. But he is Helena’s last living bloodline, and her magic is bound in him, even if he is unaware of it—and he is a weakness that the kelpies will continue to exploit. ”
“Unless he learns to use it,” Soren says.
General Varyon's face twists into a grimace, sharp as a reef exposed at low tide. His expression is a maelstrom of disdain and warning, as though he speaks not with words, but with the crushing power of the ocean itself, a force that’s relentless, suffocating, and impossible to escape.
“Then he will be a threat to all we are and all Lorien rules. Helena’s magic is wild, unpredictable.
It consumed her, tore at the very fabric of this kingdom.
To give her bloodline the chance to wield it again…
” Var pauses, the words heavy with menace.
“It would be a mistake we might not survive. No matter how much you care for him, Lorien. The risk is too great.”
I stare at him, fury bubbling just beneath the surface. “And what do you propose?”
The general’s answer is unflinching.
“If Jude is Helena’s bloodline, then he should not be coddled. He must be brought to the council, made to understand what his magic means. For him, for us. And if he cannot control it…” He looks me in the eye, unafraid of the challenge. “Then we must consider other options.”
“Other options?” The words hiss from my lips, dangerous and sharp.
“Containment.” This time it is General Rhyse who speaks carefully. “Not harm, Majesty. But we cannot allow him to be a pawn of the kelpies or a danger to our people.”
“Containment,” I repeat, leaning forward.
The general sits back as if he hasn’t just suggested what he has.
The cold, secure cell he proposes is as much a cage as the golden one I installed in my chambers, but its purpose is very different.
It’s forged from iron and salt, and its bars are cast with warding spells that will drain the magic from whoever’s inside them, leaving them a shell of what they were when they entered.
It will dull Jude and sap the life from him until there’s little left and he’s a broken, hollow husk of a man, not fit to continue living.
My fingers tighten against the coral, and the chamber darkens as the glow of my trident pulses with the storm within me.
“Jude is not an object to be contained. He is a person. My person. And if anyone here believes that I will allow him to be used, hurt, or sacrificed for your paranoia, I invite you to say so now.”
The chamber falls silent again. Even Orlith looks down, unwilling to meet my gaze.
I glance at the torches lighting the room, their glow dimmed by the storm of my thoughts.
My failure isn’t something I’ll ever admit aloud, but it gnaws at me all the same.
I’ve fought battles I shouldn’t have survived, protected my kingdom from horrors few dare to speak of, but the mention of Jude’s vulnerability has me terrified in a way that nothing else ever has before.
I wasn’t there when the kelpies struck.
They waited until my attention was elsewhere, and they almost took him from me.
The image of Jude as I found him flashes in my mind, as vivid as the moment itself.
His blood, dark as ink, pooled beneath him in the library.
The wound in his abdomen was jagged and deep, carved by a creature trying to kill.
I remember falling to my knees, my hands slick with his blood as I pressed them to his wound, trying to stem the flow.
I’d used my saliva to try to heal him, even though the taste of him made me retch, and maybe that was what saved him.
Maybe that’s what stopped his breathing stopping for all eternity.
Maybe it was the pleading as I begged him not to leave me.
Maybe it was the healers who worked furiously as we ordered him to stay with us.
Maybe it was all these things, or maybe it was the tides themselves.
I’d taken Jude to the depths of my palace, bathed him in the heart of the ocean, in the place where magic flows strongest. I’d called on the waters to heal him, demanding they return what I’ve given them, and their magic tore through me, leaving scratches on my soul that won’t heal easily.
I’d do it again—a thousand times over and more—but the thought of what I almost lost causes me more pain than all the agony I’ve ever endured. I clench my jaw, willing the memories away, but my hands still tremble against the arms of my chair. Jude is alive, and I will not let that fact be undone.
The council stirs uncomfortably under my silence, but I force myself to meet their gazes.
“Containment will not happen,” I say, my voice cold and final. “Jude’s magic may be untrained, but he’s not a threat. He’s mine, and the kelpies attacked him because they know he won’t turn on me. Or us. They want me weak and distracted, and they want his power for themselves.”
“Your Majesty,” Soren begins slowly, cautiously, “Jude’s magic is not the only concern. The kelpie attacks are more frequent and precise. This isn’t chaos any more. This is strategy. And we believe they’re being led.”
My brows draw together. “A leader? You’re certain?”
“The patterns are unmistakable,” Soren says. “They’re testing our borders, our defenses. Their attack on Jude was too specific to be coincidence. If they wanted him for his magic, then it’s likely they understand more about Helena’s legacy than we do.”
My fingers curl into fists, and my rage boils the surrounding seas. The waters grow turbulent, frothing and churning with an energy I cannot temper, as though the deep itself rises to meet my fury. I feel it in my veins, in the pulse of the tides—unrestrained, feral, and ready to consume.
The anger roiling inside me is mirrored in the restless waves outside the council room, and they bear down on the windows, threatening unrestrained violence.
It sickens me that the kelpies might understand Jude’s magic better than I do.
Better than he does. And who knows what secrets they’ve unearthed that we’ve let slip into the abyss.
That thought alone makes me feel as though I’m drowning, my chest bowing at the thought of failing him.
Soren waits, the tension in the room so thick it feels like the currents are holding us all in place. His eyes flicker briefly to Orlith, who nods, and then he turns back to me.
“Majesty, we cannot afford to wait for the kelpies to strike again. If they’re being led, if their strategy is this calculated, then we must uncover who commands them and what they know about Jude, and about Helena’s magic.”
I lean back in my chair, my fingers still tight against the coral, though the initial storm of my fury is beginning to subside into a colder, sharper edge.
“Agreed. And how do you propose we do this, Soren?”
He hesitates for a moment. “We have sources. Spies among the shallows who’ve monitored kelpie movements before. It’s possible they’ve heard whispers, seen signs of whoever leads them.”
Orlith adds, “but to learn more about Helena’s magic, we’ll need something else. Something more direct.”
I lift a brow. “More direct?”
“The temple,” Orlith says, and the chamber falls deathly quiet.
Even the currents seem to still.
“That temple is forbidden,” I say flatly.