17. Chapter 17
Icould see the look in Beralt’s eye as he calculated, and sensed that he assumed we were bluffing. The cocky bastard returned my smile with his own cruel one. I popped the joints within my neck again, feeling the tension letting go within my shoulders as my breathing increased.
“And what exactly do you need my bannermen for?” The annoyance in Beralt’s tone continued to spike my irritation.
What do we need them for? Was he simply choosing to ignore the looming threats as long as he remained untouched behind these walls?
“We need them if we’re going to take on Dokvalon and stop their evils from crossing over the Shadowcraig Mountains.
What their plan is, we’re unsure, but we must act to stop the Black Raiders from attacking our people and understand what created those vile beasts that hunt with them.
” Ora looked to me before she continued, “We’re also asking every lord and lady and low-born Wielder, and those in between, to stand up and fight as well.
To use our power for good and not simply as currency in politics. ”
It was a plan we had been hashing out for weeks, and one we all agreed on.
It was time for every able citizen to stand up and fight, regardless of status.
It would be a thing of beauty to see people come together.
If a queen was so willing to take to the battlefield, then how could her people deny her call and hide behind their measly ranks?
As expected, Beralt’s eyes went wide with disbelief and he began laughing so hard to the point he momentarily choked. Ora gave me a look as if it were my doing, but I only shook my head, sad that I had missed the opportunity.
“You mean to tell me you’re expecting more than just the soldiers to go into battle?
” He cleared his throat again. “Elevated Wielders do not fight. The lower-born and weaker Wielders, yes, but you seriously cannot expect a man of my stature to step on the battlefield.” He looked at all of us, expecting us to say Ora only spoke in jest, but we unanimously looked at him with narrowed eyes and arms crossed.
“And you think yourself higher than the queen, who is set to fight for her people?” Sury’s eyes went as dark as his tone as he fumed. “Know your place.”
Beralt turned to Sury. “Even a Veik knows it should enter the battlefield before it ever thinks it can sit on the left side of the throne.”
Fyom shifted and placed a large hand on Sury’s shoulder as if to hold him in place. Ora’s golden eyes turned to a darkened honey. Her magic rippled around the room; her resentment for Beralt was more than noticeable.
“I know the heart of one Veik is more loyal and capable than an entire band of Elevated Wielders,” Ora said between clenched teeth. Her knuckles turned white from how hard she gripped the chair.
My illicitus Wielding called to me, practically begging to be released and poured into this insignificant soul in front of me. I could see it so easily, his lifesource. How it pulsed and danced so vibrantly within his chest. Just begging to be touched. To be taken.
I licked my lips, wanting to caress it so gently.
Let it warm my fingers so I could consume it.
My vision grayed as my focus honed in. The feeling of a growing frost coated me, circling my heart.
I heard muffled noises around me as I felt the pull to take his life.
My fingers twitched as I slowly raised my palm.
It’s rightfully yours. Why else would you have Thuvina’s abilities? You’re only doing your duty in guiding these insufferable beings to Cisoi. Take what is rightfully yours. Take his Wielding and strengthen your own.
A gasp escaped my lips as my vision became blocked by a wall of dark fabric from a tunic that was pulled across a broad chest. “Ophelia.” I heard the rough whisper in front of me but I couldn’t see the source.
I blinked rapidly, trying to regain focus, but I felt rooted to the spot.
My hands ached as my Wielding fought to release on its own.
“Master it. Find your center,” the voice softly emboldened.
The wall moved to the side, giving me space to see Beralt still in a heated conversation with my sister. Did they notice me on edge? As if he’d read my mind, Fyom turned his head toward me and narrowed his eyes, lightly shaking his head as if to say be careful. Did he know, too? Could he sense it?
“…that is what I am trying to convey, Lord Beralt.” I caught Ora laying a heavy emphasis on the lord in an attempt to appease this brute’s ego the best she could.
“We can negotiate some sort of deal around the yearly tributes to the crown. Something that would be handsome for you and your people. Your handsome coffers.” Her smile was anything but sweet.
Beralt stroked his beard, mulling it over. “That’s not enough. I want more.”
Ora took a deep breath to steady herself. “What else would you find advantageous for your loyalty?”
“I want more land,” Beralt clipped.
“But the lines have been drawn and abided by for nearly five centuries,” Sury started.
“Where?” Ora cut in. Sury snapped his head toward her with an incredulous look.
“You can’t be serious.” Sury gaped.
Ora lifted her chin, ever regal. I snickered at the gesture. “I ask again. Where?” This time there was more than a hint of anger in her voice.
“If Vovias truly is dead, then I want to push the border that leads to the Shadowcraig Mountains.”
“Done,” Ora replied without hesitation.
Beralt raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Wow. You must be desperate indeed.”
I watched as Ora bit her lip in vexation. I could feel anger radiate from her in waves, but no one else seemed the wiser.
“And I want to extend my borders farther north.” He mockingly looked at Sury as he said, “I want them to reach the Northern Woods.”
My eyes widened at the audacity.
“What?” Sury snapped, almost rising out of his chair right before Ora caught him by his sleeve and steadied him back. “You dare to encroach on my lands? My forefathers’ lands?”
Beralt’s smile grew devious and gleamed with malevolence.
His eyebrow ticked up just a hair’s breadth before settling back into its neutral state.
“You want my army and my Wielding. I want what I want, and I want to be next to the Chronicle King. I heard he might be open to trade,” he said as he continued to stare at Sury.
“Trading with Wielders and Mercyth is unheard of,” I whispered to Peiro. He looked at Beralt like he was a new specimen.
Ora struggled to remain cordial. “Beralt, surely we can work on an agreement to—”
“I gave you my terms. You must either accept them, or my bannerman will join those who had joined under Vovias’s banner.”
“Ivan! Let’s negotiate—”
“I said those are my terms, Princess Aurora.” He cut a glance between Ora and Sury as he added, “I get what I want or you don’t receive the second largest army Gria knows.”
I watched as Ora grappled to find words.
My annoyance increased tenfold as I saw the games he played.
He knew he was overreaching but toyed well on her desperation.
While this was the game of politics that I didn’t care to resort to, there was one piece of his statement that I would not relent to. Under any circumstances.
And I grew so tired of it all, forcing my composure to snap.
A shiver traveled up and down my spine wanting to tighten its grip within my muscles, locking me into place. The foreign feeling pulled at me, almost taking over my senses and teetering my control.
My Wielding must have felt the same because I was suddenly flooded with power.
I barely registered I had taken a step as I crossed the room and stood right in front of Beralt with my Wielded dagger drawn.
My fingers curled tightly against the fabric of his tunic as I brought him forth and met his neck with the swirling blade of blues and purples.
I could hear the strangest sound of laughing, but I couldn’t place where it came from.
Was it me? Was I laughing?
The blade cut into Beralt’s neck, the power of the celestial moon sizzling his skin.
He howled in pain as drops of blood dripped down to his collar.
A glow of teal and silver that rivaled the stars emitted from my hand and imbued itself into the knife I held, all while glowing against the bright blues in his eyes.
“I think you’re misunderstanding the situation, Beralt.
” I leaned into his space, the smell of juniper filling my nose and repulsing me.
“That isn’t the princess you’re talking to.
That is the queen.” My knife dug a little deeper, making another small whimper escape from his throat.
“From what I’ve gathered, you thought she was dead—but sitting here, you’ve contradicted yourself many times.
So which is it? Was she captured? Exiled?
Or killed?” My own smile turned cruel. “My, you tack on quite the accomplishments, sister, if you did all three.”
Beralt’s eyes grew wide once again. I wanted to laugh at his absurdity and how much his idiocy had given him away.
“You’re an even bigger fool for thinking you could betray her. As I said before, Vovias is dead, so you will be doing nothing but running toward a ghost.”
His top lip sneered back into a snarl. “If I am to believe that, then tell me this: who killed him? Hmm?”
My smile grew wide and wicked. “Me.”
Beralt scoffed. “You’re crazy and you can’t do anything to me if you need something from me. Despite that flashy Wielding in your hand, you’re delusional and a disappointment.” Beralt whispered the last part through his teeth.
“That may be. But my sister has been very generous in this exchange. Matter of fact, I’m quite proud of her for holding her composure as you sit here thinking you hold all the cards.
I can tell her patience is waning, because mine surely is.
But you see”—I waved my blade toward my sister as I continued, a drop of his blood splashing onto the table—“while she might not need to get her hands dirty, she has others that are more than willing to rid the world of pestilence. And you, Ivan, have already proven how quickly your loyalties can change depending on who has the deeper pocket.”
In a quick movement, Beralt produced a wind tunnel into his palm in an attempt to push me away, but with a flick of my wrist, I siphoned the wind out of his hand and settled the growing gale within the room.
His eyes bulged at the display of power as it seemed to finally click that I was no longer the meek sister he remembered.
No, I was now something far greater—something worth fearing.
“You don’t have it in you, Ophelia. I know who you are. The scared little princess who’s always in the shadows.” I returned the blade to his throat. “You wouldn’t dare,” he seethed. “Everyone will know it was you and riot.”
This time, I imbued the blade with the heat of Firus Wielding, causing it to glow a smidge red. Beralt hissed as his skin began to blister. Panic overpowered his eyes. “How?” I heard what he was asking. How was I using more power when so many only remember me barely Wielding dirt and tiny leaves?
I ignored him as I said, “You see, she has been doing her very best at being queenly.” I clicked my tongue against my teeth. “Willing to negotiate with vermin like you.”
Leaning in closer, I imbued my blade with more Wielding that began to lean toward the illicitus.
My eyes shined a bright silver against his.
“She’s throwing you a lifeline—but I’ll happily be your death grip,” I whispered as I inched my blade farther into his skin, causing the whimpering man to howl again.
“Ophelia!” Ora screeched behind me as I heard her chair topple to the ground.
“Will you do something about her?” Fyom asked someone, irritation lacing his tone.
A leering presence at my back called me to stand, but not before I tilted my head, peering into the frightened eyes of the man before me and puffing a light bit of air into his face that caused him to jump in his seat.
Firm fingers grasped my elbow and yanked me back to slam against something hard behind me, then steered me out of the room. “You want to pick on someone? Try something your own size,” the gruff said into my ear, stirring a strange excitement.
I smiled at the promise as I felt my mind finally snap and my vision turned to gray.