16. Chapter 16
Night had fallen before we were called to meet Beralt in his study to finally discuss an alliance. Even if it did feel like a desperate one, he commanded the second largest army in our realm, and we needed it to take on Dokvalon.
Nothing had soothed or calmed my nerves from the events earlier in the day—no matter how many times I’d practiced grounding myself. Every time I felt the promise of calm, I would hear the voice.
He disrespected you. Disrespected your sister. He thinks little of you simply because of what he thinks is lacking between your thighs.
He thinks you’re weak and pathetic, and that’s not just because he still assumes you have no power.
Beralt must be dealt with if you want to make a name for yourself and finally step out of your sister’s shadows.
Take his army. Make him kneel.
The last words sliced through my mind with such intensity that I winced.
“Are you alright?” A smooth, resonant tone filled the space around me.
“I will be,” I said as I looked into the brown eyes that promised retribution—and that caused a heat to surge within my body that I wanted to lean into in so many ways.
The study we gathered in was surprisingly small considering the vast manor of Ventus Bluff—and surprisingly red.
Large windows coated the outermost wall, allowing the starlight to trickle in.
The fire in the small hearth cast a bright, ambient glow amongst the dark wooden shelves and the superfluous trinkets that lined them.
Despite the cozy appeal, it was stifling.
The irony was not lost on me that tomes and books were missing from this room, making me lose more hope that Beralt would have any knowledge that we needed.
We all stood about the room waiting. Fyom had been gone most of the day tending to the wounds and care of the “prisoners.” He shared little about the state of the people and their injuries, but something haunted his gaze.
I was about to ask him when Peiro nudged me in the side and shook his head no, reading my thoughts. Slowly I nodded, agreeing that I shouldn’t pry. Yet.
“After today, should we even bring up the prophecy? Would the idiot even have a clue about how to translate the parts we need?” I asked no one in particular, but I knew we needed a plan before his lordship entered.
“Honestly, no. Even our dear Fyom is having trouble. I’m sure the asswipe wouldn’t know a Feodean rune if it hit him in the pompous face.” Ora scrunched her nose in frustration. “Let alone a damn prophecy about stupid keys.” She twiddled with her white-stone necklace and fell deep in thought.
Sury leaned in to peck Ora on the cheek. “You’re rather cute when you’re frustrated, my love.” This earned him a soft slap to the shoulder as her face scrunched again.
“As much as we need to translate it and understand their meaning, and how the two of you are involved with the keys, it might not hurt to ask if he has appropriate texts that would help,” Fyom answered, his gaze set on the flames in the hearth.
Peiro added, “We keep it light, then. Test him. He’s like many rulers I’ve seen in my time, with self-importance that could rival nations but knowing very little. We don’t even know if he’s on our side.”
Beralt leisurely walked in and casually sat at the massive wooden table that took up the majority of the room.
I would have been impressed by the craftsmanship of such a fine piece, if it weren’t for the smugness plastered across his face as he kicked up his dirty boots onto the table and leaned back in the head chair.
I wonder how hard his head would hit the floor if I pushed the chair back with a bit of wind…
“Now we can talk about business,” he said, once again never showing Ora the respect she deserved by offering her a place at his table. Beralt produced a small dagger from his hip and began picking dirt out from under his fingernails.
We all glanced at one another, reading the same emotions: annoyance, irritation.
But it was enmity within me that festered.
The fire stoked hotter, fiercer. I wanted to grab the dagger that was so close to my fingertips and sink the blade into the meat of his chest. I wanted to force him to his knees and make him kiss Ora’s feet the way these bastards should.
I could handle them thinking that I was broken, but I couldn’t…
no, I wouldn’t…tolerate the continued disrespect on my sister’s name. My family’s name.
I took a step forward, my fingers brushing the cool hilt of my blade just as strong fingers clasped around my elbow and brought me back to where I stood. “Play nice,” Peiro whispered into my ear. “You’ll have your time with him soon enough. I’ll make sure of it.”
I turned my gaze to his, seeing the shining browns staring down at me.
The look he gave me made me wonder if he could read my mind, or if I was just that readable.
Something warm inside wrapped around me, while his gaze tended to a new kind of heat.
On cue, he smirked and turned his attention back to the bastard sitting before us.
Instinctively I twisted the muscles within my neck, releasing tension with a satisfying pop.
“Good girl,” I heard him purr from behind me. I rolled my shoulders and smirked.
A loud noise across the room caught my attention just in time to see Sury forcefully pull back the chair to Beralt’s right and help Ora sit right before doing the same for himself, sitting on her right.
“For the queen, of course,” Sury gritted.
Beralt looked to Ora and scanned the room with a look like he was annoyed by the gesture.
Fyom chuckled. “This is going to be fun,” he said and loosely folded his arms across his tunic.
“Well,” Ora began, plainly working on her diplomatic approach by gently placing her hands together on top of the table, “thank you for allowing us to collect ourselves for the evening and welcoming us into your beautiful home.”
A snicker escaped my throat, as I knew she was laying it on rather thick. “But now that we’re here… This might be your study and your walls, but that doesn’t matter. You still belong to Gria. We are going to talk about the state of things, and we won’t be leaving until we do.”
There’s the Ora I’d been waiting for.
Beralt’s eyes rolled exaggeratedly. “Well, it’s in a complete disarray of shit, isn’t it?”
“Obviously,” I muttered to myself.
Ora’s back straightened. “We have a plan. My council and myself—”
“Wait, this lot is your council now? A shit Wielder, two Veiks, and this giant of a man? Why, you must have gone mad while in Dokvalon’s clutches.” Beralt laughed once again at his own joke.
How did he know Ora had been taken by Dokvalon if he wasn’t at the ceremony? The guard had told us that Beralt believed we were dead. My eyes narrowed as I watched the lord sit there, so proud of himself.
“But before we dive into all that, what do you know about Feodean runes?” Ora took the lead in probing the lord’s knowledge. Anything to help us inch forward in our quest for these keys that could reunite our kingdom and rebalance Wielding once and for all.
Beralt gave her a quizzical look as if she were the dunce inside these walls. “Feodean runes? The lost language? What do they have to do with anything?”
“It’s for my personal research,” Fyom cut in. “My queen continues to humble me as she graciously appeases my knowledge. For me, learning is the most addictive magic.”
Beralt raised a single eyebrow as he looked up to Fyom. “No. I can’t say I recall a lick of my old studies from the days at the High Temple.”
We all glanced at one another, mentally agreeing that Beralt was officially a dead end.
“No matter. As I mentioned, my council and I have a strong plan regarding Gria and your bannermen…”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” he cut in, nonchalantly pointing the dagger in Ora’s direction. Sury jumped up and grabbed his own dagger as I stepped closer to the table, drawing my Wielded blade into my hand but holding it out of Beralt’s eyesight.
The air instantly became charged with tension from the electricity wrapped around my fingers. One of Ora’s delicate eyebrows raised but remained perfectly still, not taking her eye off the lord.
“If you wish to keep your hand,” I seethed, now pointing my Wielded blade toward Beralt, “I suggest you put away your dagger and never point it at the queen again.” I emphasized each word, my voice becoming not my own. “Please do me the pleasure and make the wrong fucking move.”
Peiro chuckled behind me, pride ringing in the tone.
Beralt’s eyes widened at the radiant celestial power inside my hand, shaped like a long blade no less.
The edges held a sharp glow, ready to claim what it needed.
He slowly realized his error but still plastered a smug grin on his face, dropping the dagger onto the table before raising both hands into the air to show submission.
“My apologies, Aurora,” he said with a small bow of his head before scooping the knife off the table and repocketing it into its home.
“Queen Aurora,” Sury stated matter-of-factly as he retook his seat but kept his hand firmly on the dagger by his side.
“Yes. That.” Beralt instantly leaned forward, the chair’s legs hitting the floor with unnecessary force, and banged his interlocked fingers onto the table. “I have it on good authority that you’ve been usurped and exiled—”
“Exiled?” Ora asked, her brow narrowing.
“And now you come to my home, embarrass me in front of my citizens, demand that prisoners be let go, and want to discuss my bannerman? For what?”
“There were children in your stocks…” I could hear her resolve slowly cracking. “Who said I was exiled?”
“Does it matter? The point is that you’re no longer on the throne. Therefore, my bannermen are no longer yours to deploy.” The smile that crept up his face told me he thought he had all the cards.
Oh, how clearly he was wrong.
With a flick of your wrist, that dagger would find the artery in his neck to end his life in seconds…
“Aurora wasn’t exiled, you half-brained whelp!
” Sury all but roared as he tried to hide the growing anger in his voice.
I could sense that he was trying to be on his best behavior, too, for Ora.
“She was kidnapped by Dokvalon with Vovias and Ariadne behind it all. With him out of the way, now she marches on Ariadne and needs the support to take back the throne that is clearly hers to begin with. She’s a fucking Endromeon, for giants’ sake! The rightful heir.”
Beralt seemed to hear none of that as he asked, “What do you mean by Vovias out of the way? What happened to him?”
“He’s dead.” I kept my features neutral and my fingers relaxed.
Beralt scoffed as he scanned over us once again. “Vovias? That coldhearted bitch is dead? I don’t believe it.”
“You’ll need to start believing,” I said as I felt a wicked smile creep across my face.