Chapter 41 #2
My palms were going dark, a feeling all too familiar when I was afraid. I focused keenly on Lord Ansel as Xavian continued to speak. If he were to try to hurt my brother, I’d be ready. Payn may have been immune to my Nature, but Lord Ansel surely was not.
“I see all are here but Bravestone. Any word from Lord Greer?” Xavian asked, now sitting. He balanced the pommel of a dagger with his palm, the tip pressing into the table.
“They’ve pledged to Delaina,” a large man with frizzy, auburn hair and an untamed beard said. He wore dark green, as did the two men on either side of him.
“Thank you, Lord Regby. Is there anyone in this room who feels the same? Or have you all come to wisely pledge your loyalty to me?” Xavian’s voice carried boldly through the hall.
My stomach would never recover from the knotting. Aside from the presence of the Witchlord, our lives and so many others depended on this kingdom uniting as one. Not dividing.
One by one, the lords of each house stood, declaring their loyalty to ‘King Xavian Steele.’ Arthur Pos, Lord Draven, and Avan all observed sharply, prepared for if someone did not.
When it was his turn, Lord Regby pledged proudly to Xavian. As he sat, the next lord rose from his seat, an average-sized man with balding, sandy hair. He wore a gold tunic and a lilac jacket, accompanied by three men in matching attire.
“The Court of Flora will not stand for this treachery! Xavian Steele,” he spat. “Is a bastard born, usurping—” A whistle soared across the table, before a dagger sank in between the man’s eyes. He fell forward, blood splattering on the stone table.
The three accompanying men froze, gaping in horror.
“Who are each of you to him?” Xavian asked, holding another dagger.
“Cousin,” one choked out.
“And your stance?”
“I’m—I’m loyal to Castivian. And you, Your Grace, I swear,” the lankiest of them said.
The other two scowled, disgust riddling their gazes.
“Hm, and you two? Who are you to the dead man?” Xavian asked, lazily pointing to each with the dagger.
“Sons! And we don’t bow to Dark Natured loving bas—” Xavian’s dagger plunged into the man’s heart before he could finish.
His body fell to the floor as Xavian unsheathed his third dagger.
The last son held his hands up innocently. “I do not wish to die, nor do I care for Queen Delaina. You, you—you have my loyalty, Your Grace,” he stammered.
Lord Regby snorted, pouring his glass of water over the blood on the table, rinsing it away from him. “What a puss,” he chuckled.
Xavian sized up the two remaining men, and he waved them off. “You’re stripped of your titles. Get out, and drag your kin with you.”
The Flora Court men departed without another word, a crimson trail of misplaced loyalty following behind them.
With their chairs freed up, Lord Regby used one to prop his feet on for the rest of the meeting.
The remaining houses all pledged their loyalty, with Lord Ansel’s father being among them.
I kept my eyes on the Witchlord while Xavian discussed plans for reassigning the two fallen holds, and what resources each of the houses present could provide to the Crown. He stressed that we needed every man possible for the war to come. Natured or not.
After hours of discussion, drinks, and formalities, the meeting came to an end. As Xavian dismissed the lords, Ansel spoke into his father’s ear. The Lord of Whimcastor Hold stood, his company all following behind, except for Lord Ansel.
My jaw tightened. The only people left were our council, Lord Ansel, and Lord Regby, who had moved in closer, plopping down in the seat next to the Witchlord.
I swallowed. “Xavian, I have something to say.”
I’d held my tongue for hours. I didn’t know why Lord Ansel was here or what he was planning, but I wouldn’t let him get away with it while I sat silent.
“Go on.”
With the small group of us left, Xavian’s ‘around company’ face faded, and the exhaustion showed in his true expression.
I pointed Singer across the table. “This man is not the heir to Whimcastor Hold; he is a Witchlord from the Northern Waywards,” I said, deathly serious.
Lord Regby burst into laughter, while Avan looked ready to crawl under the table.
“Father, I beg of you,” Avan said. The similar red hair was telling enough that they were related, with the same strong nose, too.
Lord Ansel rubbed his hand over his mouth, avoiding eye contact with me.
“He’s not a Witchlord, Elora,” Xavian said.
My fists curled. “Yes, he is. He was in the Waywards with me, and he gave me this orb!” I snapped, unclipping it from my waist and holding it up as proof.
I was sick of being a diluted version of myself in the hopes of gaining an ounce of respect. I was tired of being disregarded. I knew Lord Ansel. A thousand years could go by and I’d still recognize him.
“I was supposed to be retrieving you,” Lord Ansel cut in.
“Which you did not,” Xavian pointed out.
“What do you mean ‘retrieve me’?” I demanded.
“I saw you a year ago, when Xavian requested some counseling on his horrid Waywards dreams. Once I laid eyes on you, I sought to retrieve you.” Ansel shrugged, taking a healthy sip from his glass.
“There was no need for you to be there. We've known this war would come, just like many of you were catching on in the Waywards. I willed you to look in the mirror, thanks to your bizarre dream bond, and I was able to find you after. It’s all simple, really.”
“Sounds confusing, actually,” Avan mumbled.
Arthur Pos clicked his tongue. “While I don’t know why the twin heirs have sporadic intertwined memories, we know the Dreamsouls are able to see those memories if they go into your dreams. So if I were you, Princess, I’d stop bickering and questioning unimportant matters, and start learning how to shield my mind for Fate’s sake. ”
“Who the fuck was talking to you?” I yelled.
Lord Regby let out a deep chuckle.
For once, Lady Jocelynn did not intervene. She sat with her arms crossed, as if she’d already warned someone this was a terrible idea. I was their punishment, and she had no intention of stopping me.
Riven’s shoulders were stiff, and his eyes dark. “You sent me to watch her for three years, with orders to bring her if Clarke were to fall, or if told otherwise. It made no sense to send Lord Ansel. His show of being a Witchlord was unnecessary and now confusing for the princess.”
Ansel chuckled darkly. “Oh, you did more than watch her, Oathkeeper.”
My face flared with heat.
“He escorted me across the Sea of Blades!” I shouted. “Don’t insult him.”
His light blue eyes twinkled. “If I’d have known that escorting you included orgasms, maybe I would’ve followed through with bringing you myself.”
“Your claims are outrageous!” I exclaimed, embarrassed and enraged. How would he know about us? Surely Riven hadn’t told anyone.
Ansel held his hand up. My orb snapped out of my grip, flying through the air and into his palm. “I didn’t take you for a shameful liar, Blackheart. I made this orb. I can see through it, anywhere, at any time.”
“Enough,” Xavian warned, dagger in hand.
Lady Jocelynn scoffed. “Oh please, Ansel. We all know what you’ve been doing lately. Don’t act so sentimental about your betrothal now.”
Avan grinned. “Yeahhhh, sleeping with the queen is brutal work, man.”
“You’ve been fucking Delaina?” I hissed.
The man I was intended to marry had his dick tainted by the wretched queen?
“For Fate’s sake,” Riven said under his breath.
Arthur Pos was equally revolted as he was alarmed.
Xavian, at his wits' end, lit a smoke.
“It was an inside job,” Ansel said, leaning back in his chair.
“Well, rumor has it, you went thoroughly inside.” Avan nodded in cheers.
Ansel waved away a pipe Avan offered. “I needed to know her plans. I attempted unraveling Princess Clayvarie’s dream as well during my time in Lyonsreach, but she’s deeply entwined in the Blackheart nightmare.
We’ll have to retrieve her at some point to continue my work here.
Just don’t send that one to do it,” Ansel said, gesturing to Riven snidely.
Riven was lethally quiet.
“What are the queen’s plans, then?” Lord Draven asked, adjusting the cuff on his velvet button up.
Everyone quieted. Whatever her plans were, they surely included the worst possible outcome for Blackhearts. There would be no mercy for even the innocent if they shared the same Nature as the man who had poisoned Princess Clayvarie.
Ansel pulled out a scroll and unrolled it onto the table. It was a map of Drakington.
“Cutting off Castivian taxes from her vaults has left her in need of money. She made a fool’s deal with Saffron. At the end of spring, she’s set to sell the Dark Natured of the Southern Waywards to the Sapphires. They’re preparing ‘camps’ in Lestivia as we speak.”
Delaina was a sick bitch. I had known whatever she was planning would be horrible, but selling innocent people, including children, to bloodthirsty thieves was disgraceful.
“And she thinks Saffron will leave her be after this?” Xavian asked, shaking his head.
“She’s convinced they can be business partners,” Ansel replied.
Poison dripped from my gloved palm onto the table. Those were people, not livestock.
“Saffron will not stop,” I said, balling my fists in my lap to try to contain the poison. “His son said so himself. He will not be satisfied until he’s king of the three kingdoms, or dead.”
Xavian twirled his dagger on the table as Ansel pushed the map to him.
“Your Grace, if we can redirect the vessel leaving this week to an area close enough to the Southern Waywards, myself and a few others can infiltrate before the Sapphires arrive. Send enough ships to hold the Dark Natured ten days behind us; that’s all we’ll need.
On the tenth day, we’ll ensure that the people have a way to escape onto those ships. ”
While I was from the Northern Waywards, not Southern, they were surely set up similarly. It would take a massive fleet, and would also require overtaking the Drakers and seven Witchlords. The task he was suggesting required inside knowledge.
“Uh, where are we getting these ships?” Avan asked, peering at the map.
Arthur Pos groaned, adjusting his spectacles. “I will supply twenty ships.”
Xavian glowered skeptically. “In exchange for?”
“You find my daughter a respectable match. And no more relations with her.”
Xavian considered this, shrugging. “Deal. Lord Avan, you’re engaged.”
Avan choked on his ale, grasping at the stem of the goblet.
“I’ll supply forty ships, and the men to man them,” Lord Regby interjected. He gave Lord Pos a gnarly side glance. “In exchange for my son to be freed of his engagement to the barren one.”
“Deal. Pos, your ships are unneeded. We’ll negotiate a new match at a later date. Next,” Xavian said, taking a drag of his smoke.
Riven followed suit, lighting his own.
“I’ll be going,” I declared.
Horrified looks struck everyone in the room except for Ansel, who tilted his chin with intrigue.
I would’ve never volunteered to go back to the Waywards before, but this was different. I knew what was at stake. I refused to sit on my ass while Ansel became the hero.
“You are making heirs,” Lord Draven said coolly. “Your brother's betrothal won’t arrive from Lestivia for months, maybe years at this rate. We need a bloodline established.”
I leaned forward. “I wasn’t asking for permission. I have two distinguished individuals who will want to go as well. Oh, and my personal guard, Sir Riven. He has excellent Draker knowledge that will be useful for our venture.”
I rubbed Riven’s shoulder with a smile. Ansel shook his head, biting back an amused grin.
“I’m most certainly not going,” Lady Jocelynn interrupted.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m fully aware.”
She’d never voluntarily leave her home, and that was perfectly fine. She had children and a life to maintain here.
I did not.
“Elora, you have a duty to marry,” Xavian reminded.
He was right, and I would, while making sure I got my bargain’s worth.
“I will keep my promise, but I will also go on this trip. Also, while we’re discussing important matters, I want livestock sent to Moonhill regularly.”
I wasn’t sure why, but I needed to be more confident in front of Ansel.
Arthur Pos shook his head. “We should not be feeding the bladebreathers. They’re the rats of the sky.”
My eyes narrowed. “Says a man who would cower in the face of one. They’re hungry. If you all want me to feed Castivian with heirs until Xavian’s wife steps in, then feed the bladebreathers.”
“It will be done,” Xavian decided, raising his hands in finality.
A grin tugged at the corner of my lips. At least I’d done one thing right.
“My father will want us wed before we depart for Drakington,” Ansel said bluntly, rolling up his map.
I’d expected as much.
“It will be arranged in the next few days,” Xavian said, finishing his smoke. “Focus on gathering your crew in the meantime. While you all are absent, myself and the rest of the council will deal with the traitorous holds. They’ll need new leadership, and… remodeling.”
“Alright, enough wedding planning. I’ve got ships to prepare,” Lord Regby announced.
I didn’t give a shit about the wedding. I needed to ready myself for the trip back to Drakington. I also had to inform Amzee and Beck that they’d been selected for a mission that could save thousands.