Chapter 31
DIEM
Agreat many impossible things had happened in my life over the past year, but finding myself alone and forgotten in the palace ballroom felt like one of the more improbable.
Since returning home, it seemed as though I couldn’t go anywhere without a long line of people demanding a piece of my time and ever-present eyes watching every misstep.
Only in the shelter of my tent in the Guardians’ camp was I ever truly alone, and only in those dark, lonely hours did I wish that I wasn’t.
After the council meeting ended, it looked like this day would be no different.
Eleanor insisted I mingle with the Embers, so I’d turned on my charm, becoming a bright, buoyant version of myself that felt like a stranger wearing my skin.
I lingered with the crowd for hours, smiling and playing my part until late in the evening.
When the daylight in the palace windows grew azure and dim, I couldn’t take one second more, so I made an excuse and snuck away.
I returned to the meeting table, curled up in my chair, and closed my eyes, listening to the murmur of the crowd fade until the last person left.
By all accounts, the meeting had been a success.
Eleanor’s brilliant plan had saved the day, and it had given her the confidence to find her voice.
Luther had used his reputation with immaculate skill.
When he spoke, the entire room listened, and it had changed the tide of a vote more than once.
Zalaric had been invaluable, too. His cutting quips had a way of pointing out the absurdity in a person’s reasoning, including to the person themself.
Though the Embers had been understandably reluctant to make waves so soon, we managed to persuade the council to put an end to the worst of the mortals’ treatment.
By the close of the meeting, the members were negotiating as not-quite-yet-but-encouragingly-close-to equals.
The council was working. The people were leading. This was as good an outcome as I could have hoped for.
So why did I feel so horribly sad?
The sound of the ballroom doors opening punched a hole through the quiet, and all my emotions drained out, leaving me with the hollow coldness I’d come to know so well. By the time my mother appeared, my back was straight and my heart was numb.
“Everyone’s looking for you,” she said. “I told them I saw you in the palace gardens. Thought it might buy you some time.”
She reached for a chair, and I stiffened. Of all the things I was avoiding, she was near the top of the list. She’d always seen right through all my lies. Too bad that was a talent I hadn’t inherited from her.
I started to rise. “I’ll go see what they need.”
“Sit down, Diem.”
I obeyed without thinking, conditioned from years of working under her at the healers’ center. Her stern voice had been my guidelight for so many years.
Now, it filled me with dread.
“The meeting went better than I expected,” she said. “You did very well.”
I looked down at the table, tracing a gnarl in the wood. “I didn’t do much. Just put the right people in the right place and tried to stay out of their way.”
“Sweetheart, that’s what leadership is.” She looked me over. “You know, I thought it would feel strange to see my little girl sit on a throne as Queen.”
“I’m not a little girl, Mother. I haven’t been for a long time.”
“It’s hard for parents to accept their children getting older.
” She took a swath of my overskirt and gave it a playful tug.
“But it turns out watching you inspire people isn’t strange at all.
I’d like to think you learned it from me, but we both know your father deserves the credit.
” She was smiling, though her eyes spoke of grief.
“How I wish Andrei could see the woman you’ve become. ”
I squirmed, internally fleeing from the emotions that threatened to rise. “What do you think of the mortals on the council?”
She leaned back. “Bruno Albanon is a thoughtful man . . . Brant is not. Don’t be fooled by his choice to stay in Lumnos.
He’s loyal to Vance. Whatever is said in this room will make its way to the north.
As for the two who took the bribes . . .
I pray their guilt is enough to keep them from ever doing it again.
It’s a powerful motivator. So is forgiveness. ”
I mulled over her words. “Thank you for what you did for Taran today.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Garath beat those boys, didn’t he?”
“What makes you say that?” I hedged, nervous what she might do if I confirmed it.
“The way Taran’s brother reacted . . . I’ve seen children like that, who go somewhere else in their minds when their parents are at their worst.”
My nose wrinkled. “There’s no excuse for Aemonn’s silence. He’s not a child anymore.”
“When something traumatic happens to someone at such a young age, sometimes a part of them never quite grows up.”
I thought back to how Taran had looked in those moments after his father’s cruelty, how clearly I could see the hurt little boy he’d been. Then I thought of Aemonn hunched in his chair—a man who was larger than life, trying desperately to make himself small.
And though Aemonn Corbois was the last person I wanted to pity, I couldn’t help wondering, with a weight in my chest, if that was how he’d survived the abuse.
How he was still surviving it.
“Luther did well today, too.”
“Did you just say something nice about Luther Corbois?”
She laughed. “Luther and I made our peace. You told me that he was your future and that I needed to accept him to be part of it.” She leaned forward. “Is that no longer the case?”
Again, my eyes dropped away. That question had no easy answer.
“Diem,” she said gently, “if you need someone to talk to—”
“You loved Ophiucae,” I blurted out. “The spell that set him free . . . it required a child conceived in love.”
It came out like an accusation. She gave a slow nod.
“I suppose I did, in the way all young people love the first person they fall for. There was little he could do for me, chained in a cell, but was always making small gestures to show he cared. And when he spoke of the future he wanted for Emarion, it was a good one. A fair, peaceful world. Of course, he only saw himself as its leader . . .”
“That was only twenty years ago. If you saw good in him then, surely there’s still hope for him now.”
My voice sounded childish and desperate, and I despised the pity that flooded her eyes. “He’s done terrible things, Diem. He’s murdered so many.”
“Vance and his men did that. Ophiucae only lent his shield to protect them.”
“Ophiucae is their leader.”
My temper cracked. “You were the Guardians’ leader when they bombed the Meros ports. By the Flames, Mother, you lit the fuse that killed the Montios King. Shall I sentence you to execution?”
She flinched at the comparison. “I do believe in redemption. There are many Descended I swore to kill if I ever came within blade’s reach. Today I sat across from twenty of them, and I forced myself to let go of vengeance for the good of the realm.”
I tensed, sensing what came next. “But?”
“Hatred is a poison. As healers, we know all poisons have a point of no return. Some people cannot be saved.” She shook her head sadly. “I don’t want to see your heart broken if Ophiucae is one of them.”
Angry defiance rose up within me. I’d pulled Luther back from the furthest edge of an incurable poison. Why couldn’t I do the same for my sire?
As if Luther had heard my thoughts, the ballroom doors opened again, and he stalked in. With my back to the door, I couldn’t see him, nor could I feel his aura due to the bronze cuffs still on my wrists, but I knew. The bond was my very own Meros compass, with its insatiable pull.
“I’m glad you’re here,” my mother said to him.
“There’s something I need to tell you both.
A hawk arrived from my contact in the north.
Ophiucae’s army needs more godstone weapons, and they’ve heard there’s a secret stockpile in the Fortos armory.
They’re planning another attack there in three days’ time. ”
“We’ll be ready,” Luther said. “I’ll speak with Alixe. We’ll bring all the reinforcements we can spare.”
My mother nodded. “I’ll do the same with the Guardians. With any luck, we can stop him before things get worse.” She patted my hand and stood. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”
She left, and my pulse quickened. Being alone with Luther was a risky game, one I craved and feared with equal passion.
He took her chair and moved it directly next to mine, turning it the opposite direction. He let out a long exhale as he lounged back and stretched his legs.
“Did Doriel and Obaneryn leave?” I asked him.
“They did. I sent Tybold to make sure their boat doesn’t turn back.”
That was unexpected. Tybold nearly roasted Luther alive last night. Now he was obeying Luther’s command?
“My mother said people were searching for me.”
“I told them I’d find you.” He closed his eyes. “I’m still looking.”
He set his forearm on the armrest, his knuckles a hair from my skin. I told my arm to pull away. It moved a little closer.
“Luther, what you did at the meeting today—”
His fingers wrapped around my arm, just above my elbow. His touch was tender but firm enough to render me silent. My lungs went breathless, warm lightning crackling through my blood.
With his eyes closed and no one around, I took the chance to study him.
He’d been dressing differently lately. Looser cuts, plainer fabrics.
Still elegantly tailored—this was Luther Corbois, after all—but if it wasn’t for the jeweled sword on his back, no one would guess him a privileged Prince.
Most shocking was the way he’d taken to leaving his shirts undone so the fabric hung open to reveal his chest, scar and all.
In another man, I might have found it vain.
In Luther, I saw it for the hard-won victory of self-acceptance it was.