Chapter 8 #4
Two sofas constructed of lightweight wood had been hauled into the tent, and a dozen pillows and blankets were scattered around for our use.
Much like the Silver Coast royals’ tent, ours had a divider wall of canvas panels that separated the front from the back.
I suspected our sleeping area was behind the panels, along with our travel trunks that contained all the clothing and personal belongings we’d brought with us.
“Can we close these, please, Anders?” I gestured at the tied-back tent flaps.
“Yes, of course, sire.” Anders nodded.
He hurried over and untied one side while Roald quickly tended to the other, and in seconds, we were plunged into privacy.
I’d expected the light to be smothered as well, but some cleverly designed panels of sheer fabric at the tops of the tent walls allowed sunlight to filter in.
“What a bitch!” Yori hissed once the tent flaps were closed. “Can you believe her?”
“Unfortunately,” Serra sighed. “That’s exactly what I was afraid of happening. I thought perhaps our new titles would shield us a little, but clearly she has no qualms about speaking her mind, regardless of propriety.”
“The problem is,” Tanell added. “She seems to think it was proper. Did you notice how she only ever spoke to me?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I did notice that.”
“It was like she thinks I’m the reigning monarch.” Tanell threw her hands up in irritation. “As if my king wasn’t right there.”
“It’s okay,” I consoled my women. “Don’t let her upset you. She’s not worth it, and we don’t need her to like us. We just need her to agree with us that Khorr is a threat that needs to be dealt with.”
“And her personal opinions shouldn’t have any impact on that decision,” Serra pointed out with a level head. “It’s a clear fact that he threatens all of us.”
“I need to go punch something,” Yori said suddenly. “Anders?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Anders turned to Reggie. “Will you assist Queen Yori with some sparring?”
“It would be my honor,” Reggie said, and he bowed deeply to his queen. “I do enjoy our sparring.”
“Good.” Yori blew a sharp breath out through her adorable nose. “I’m feeling pretty fired up right now.”
“I can handle it, Your Majesty,” Reggie said, and there was a smile of anticipation on his face. “May I suggest we move outside? There’s a bit of space between the soldiers’ tents in the rear, where we may have space and a bit of privacy from the other royals’ tents.”
“Perfect,” Yori said.
“Be safe,” I said, and I kissed my dark-haired queen.
“I just need to get this feeling out,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll keep her safe, sire,” Reggie assured me.
“I know,” I said. “Thanks.”
Reggie and Yori walked out of the tent together, and I plopped down on one of the sofas with Serra. Tanell began to pace across the rug that covered the ground under our tent, and her agitation was palpable. It rolled off her like heat off the pavement in August.
“Tanell,” I said. “Come sit.”
She either ignored me or hadn’t heard me, so I tried again.
“Tanell,” I said a little louder. “Nell.”
I’d only called her Nell a few times before, and it had always been in the heat of the moment when I’d been buried deep inside her, but it worked. Her piercing blue eyes finally looked up at me, and she sighed.
“I like it when you call me Nell,” she murmured and came over to sit with me.
“I know.” I smiled. “Don’t worry about Sybil. She’s only one monarch. We already have Doria and Enken on our side.”
“When are they set to arrive?” Tanell asked.
“Yes,” Serra agreed. “It will be nice to see some friendly faces.”
“Uh, I’m not sure,” I said. “Anders?”
“I’ll see what I can find out, sire,” Anders said.
He ducked out of the tent, and my two blonde queens settled back to decompress with me after our tense meeting with the Silver Coast royals.
I stewed in my thoughts for a few minutes.
Sybil reminded me of some of the stuck-up bitches I’d gone to high school with. The kind of girls who’d been given brand-new cars on their sixteenth birthdays. They’d never had to work for anything in their lives, and Sybil seemed just the same.
She’d been handed her life on a golden platter, and she’d probably never had to get her hands dirty once in her entire, privileged life.
How could a person rule their subjects with compassion if they had no perspective on how they lived?
Tanell and Serra often praised me for how much compassion I had for my subjects, but it was because I’d lived lives just like them up until I’d been sucked into that light and spat out in Nalatria.
Yori understood it just as well as I did, and Serra and Tanell had learned because they had open minds and kind hearts.
Sybil was a cold woman who didn’t give a fuck about her subjects. She didn’t even seem to care about her own husband, and I wondered about the relationship between them.
Before I could sink much further into my spiraling thoughts and growing dislike for the Silver Coast Queen, Anders popped back through the tent.
“Sire,” he said. “Queen Doria and King Enken are arriving.”