Chapter 19
Emrys
The look on her face when she’d collapsed in the library was still burned behind my eyes. I’d told myself it was necessary, that she’d asked to see my inner hell. Tried to convince myself that experiencing it would drive her away before she got too close to danger.
But now, sitting beneath the vaulted ceiling of the great hall, with the reek of ink, tedium, and too many ambitious men pressing against my temples, I wasn’t sure if she’d actually needed saving.
Because she was still here, looking for all the world like I hadn’t hurt her again.
Maps, supply lists, and rosters cluttered the long oak table. He was supposed to be visiting the city below, yet he’d wormed his way into this planning meeting by virtue of his rank.
Nisien, ever the statesman, was organizing the minutiae of his journey to bestow the crown’s blessing on our cousin’s marriage.
My patience worn thin after hours of this, I was keenly aware that my posture and expression showed our nobles that I was brooding.
But I still added my signature to whatever document was shoved my way, the quill scratching like a scream in the quiet hall, and nodded to the other twenty men surrounding the table.
I resolutely did not look at her.
Something made more difficult with Gordot’s portly bulk planted directly in front of me and Isca seated next to him.
Though her hands were folded neatly on the table, her gaze mapped the room with quiet precision, seeing what half these men never could.
I felt the echo of her magic like sunlight on my walls, determined to squeeze through a crack in the stone.
And that lecherous bastard Gordot took every opportunity to glance sideways at her bosom.
The curse within me purred at the thought of using my bare hands to pry his eyes from their sockets.
The violence of the image was so vivid, so pleasing, that my knuckles turned white where I gripped my thigh beneath the table just to do something with my hands.
I pleaded with the forgotten gods to keep my rage in check, lest I slaughter one of our bannermen right here and now. It was so tempting.
The only thing that kept me in my seat other than that prayer was the calm but distant expression Isca had worn since our argument.
I’d spent days trying to rebuild my composure, convincing myself that not seeing her was for the best. But then her gaze lifted, briefly catching mine, and the entire fragile structure of my control trembled.
Gordot cleared his throat. “There’s a shorter route to the holding through Elid’s lands. Might be easier to guard.”
Nisien frowned. “We’ve had problems where his lands touch the border. Best to avoid it for now, I think.”
“Or slay two birds with one stone,” Gordot countered, spreading his hands. “Make it a show of force while traveling for a peaceful purpose.”
Her voice was quiet, yet it cut through the masculine posturing easily. “Forgive the interruption.” She held her tone steady. No tremor, no hesitation. She was surrounded by men twice her rank and four times her arrogance, but she never doubted herself.
Gordot looked at her like a man humoring his favorite mistress. “Of course, Lady Isca.”
I tasted blood where my teeth ground together as I stifled a growl.
“My understanding,” she began, her tone deceptively soft, “is that you’re already rotating men from the city garrison to the northern border. Would diverting more men to Lord Gordot’s ‘show of force’ not put the Tir itself at risk?”
A beat of stunned silence. How did she know about the border rotations? Maeron couldn’t have told her; the order was too recent.
She met Gordot’s gaze evenly. “A shorter road may be tempting, but it’s a dangerous sort of efficiency to prioritize the impression of control over actual safety.”
The silence that came after proved how quickly her insight had hit home. The other diplomats we’d been sent prioritized the whole of Avanfell’s interests, really the Assembly’s, over the needs of Darreth.
Now a peasant girl was lecturing lords, and not one of them could contradict her. I wanted to laugh with the rare joy I felt at seeing it. This was the herb-seller they’d sent us? No…this was a strategist.
“She’s right,” I heard myself say, the words rough.
I pointed to a different spot on the map, my mind working faster than it had since arriving.
“We shouldn’t pull them from the Tir. But we could pull them from the garrison to the south of Elid’s lands to act as escort for that portion of the journey. ”
Nisien leaned back, a slow, calculating smile spreading across his face. “An excellent point, Lady Isca. Thank you.”
I should’ve felt relief that she’d impressed him, but all I could do was clench my jaw, seething with jealousy.
“And she has a mind for military matters!” Lord Gordot gushed, his eyes now gleaming with a covetousness that made the curse ready itself to bathe in blood.
I couldn’t help it. With a careful application of telekinetic power, I slowly turned his face away from Isca so he could look straight at me.
His eyes were wild, pulse leaping in his throat as the scrap of paper I’d written a curt note upon drifted across the table.
I didn’t drop my gaze as he read it. All the blood had drained from his face when he looked up again and nodded, knot in his throat bobbing with the movement. Message received.
The discussion eventually withered into talk of gifts and protocol, matters I no longer needed to endure.
I should’ve left, but I was held fast by the string of tension connecting me to her.
When Nisien’s steward began arguing for him to wear plain clothes to the wedding, her voice cut through again.
“The bride’s father is dying, correct?” All eyes swung to her.
“That’s why Prince Nisien is traveling instead of them coming here?
Plain clothes could be read as indifference.
Or worse, pity. Wear your house colors, the crown, and a sword.
A high lord wants to die with his pride intact, his family elevated.
Seeing his monarch, resplendent in the regalia, in his house for his daughter’s wedding…
that is a gesture of respect his family will boast of for a generation. ”
Gods. She didn’t just understand strategy—she understood people. Protocol mattered in noble houses. Clothes spoke louder than half the decrees we issued.
The Assembly had sent an Empath to soothe the beast. And here she was, weaving her first spell over the entire council without a trace of magic.
While every courtier in this hall had wielded power like a weapon, she’d treated it like a pair of shears, snipping away the scraps and leaving only the heart of the issue behind every time she spoke.
Fearless, I thought, my blood running cold. And doomed because of it, because I can’t seem to do what’s necessary to protect her from me.
The thought hit me like a sucker punch that made the last veil over my eyes fall away. I finally saw what she truly was, and it terrified me anew.
She was better than us. She was strength wielded with empathy, intelligence forged by a life we couldn’t imagine, and beauty made all the more devastating by her kind heart. I’d just watched her walk into a den of wolves and not just make them listen but respect her.
Too good. Too good for me by a mile. The realization only made me more determined to keep my distance. Without Nisien as a buffer between us in the coming weeks, I was at risk of completely falling apart.
When the meeting adjourned, I rose without a word.
A question shimmered in her eyes as they met mine.
But I was a coward.
I turned my back on the only light in the room and walked away with the sound of my crumbling resolve in my ears.