Chapter 39 #2
I pace to the window, staring out at the Shadow Court's eternal twilight while my mind races through possible responses.
The political implications are staggering—if the Light Court can frame my healing as a regional threat, they have justification for military intervention that could destabilize everything we've built.
"They want controlled conflict," I realize aloud. "Not open war, but enough border tension to justify occupation. Keep us constantly responding to incursions instead of governing effectively."
"And if you respond too aggressively to their 'peacekeeping missions,'" Emir adds, "you prove their point about instability."
"Exactly. Fucking brilliant strategy." I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Provoke us into overreacting, then point to our response as evidence that we're dangerous."
The chamber door opens again, and Banu flutters in with her usual flair for dramatic timing.
"Sorry I'm late," she announces cheerfully.
"I was just in the town marketplace eavesdropping on some very interesting conversations between your kitchen staff and the visiting Light Court 'diplomats' who've been lurking around buying supplies.
Did someone mention treacherous golden-haired family members? Because I have so much gossip."
Through our bond, I feel Nesilhan's emotional turmoil—betrayal over Zohan's deception mixed with fear for our child's future and fury at being manipulated by people she trusted.
But underneath it all is something else: the same steel core that made her an effective assassin, the calm determination that helped her survive months of amnesia.
"What do you need from me?" she asks quietly.
The simple question, offered without hesitation despite everything she's endured, makes love crash through me with soul-crushing force. This woman, carrying our child, still recovering from trauma and betrayal, asking how she can help defend our realm.
"Nothing dangerous," I say firmly. "You're staying here, under guard, while I handle this."
"Absolutely not," she replies with sweet venom. "These people used my brother to manipulate us, used my pregnancy as intelligence to justify military action. I'm not hiding while you clean up the messes they created."
"You're pregnant," I point out, my voice harder than I intend.
"I'm pregnant, not helpless. And I'm the only person who might be able to reach Zohan, make him see what he's really doing."
Every protective instinct I possess rebels against the idea of exposing her to more danger. "Nesilhan, no. I won't risk?—"
"This isn't your choice to make," she interrupts with absolute authority. "We're partners in this. Whatever response we choose, we choose together."
"Partners don't mean you throw yourself into danger for no fucking reason," I snap.
"And partners don't get to make unilateral decisions about what the other can handle," she fires back.
Looking at her—fierce determination blazing in her golden eyes, protective hands cradling our child, ready to fight for our future despite everything—I'm reminded why arguing with her is usually futile.
Not just her stubbornness, but her courage.
Her absolute refusal to back down when something matters.
"Fine," I concede through gritted teeth. "But carefully. And with enough guards to repel a small army."
"Naturally," she agrees. "Though I should point out that pregnancy has slowed me down, I still remember where to put a blade for maximum effect."
"This one time she did take out one bandit in that village while having no memory of her training," Banu adds helpfully. "Very impressive. Pure instinct and a kitchen knife."
"That's not helping," I growl at the fairy.
"I thought it was encouraging," Banu replies innocently.
"Shall I convene the war council for this afternoon?" Emir asks, wisely steering us back to practical matters. "I need time to gather the other lords and compile our latest intelligence reports."
"Do that," I agree. "And Emir? Make sure Lord Zohan receives a personal invitation.
I think it's time we had a frank family discussion about loyalty and the consequences of betrayal.
Also, double the palace guard and have evacuation protocols ready—if they're escalating to justify invasion, I want Nesilhan protected. "
"With pleasure, my lord."
As they move toward the door, Banu flutters close to Emir's ear and whispers just loud enough for us to catch, "Well, at least someone's going to get royally screwed today, and it won't be us thanks to all this political bullshit."
Emir's face goes bright red as he clears his throat loudly. "Banu," he warns under his breath.
"What? I was clearly referring to how the Light Court is screwing us over diplomatically," she replies with mock innocence, though her smirk is absolutely wicked.
As they leave—Emir muttering something about "impossible fairies" while Banu giggles—I turn back to Nesilhan, who's already moving toward her wardrobe. "Are you certain about this?" I ask quietly. "Getting involved, I mean. You could stay safe here while I handle the politics."
She pauses, one hand resting on her belly, and gives me a look that could cut glass. "Kaan," she says gently, "I didn't survive assassination attempts, amnesia, demon realm politics, and your father's hospitality just to hide in a tower when things get complicated. We're in this together."
"Together," I agree reluctantly, crossing to her and pulling her back against my chest, one arm wrapping protectively around her and our child.
But as I hold her close, feeling our child's steady heartbeat through our bond, I can't shake Erlik's parting words: Distance matters so little when the connection runs deep enough.
Whatever game my father set in motion during that ritual, whatever price we paid for my freedom, it's about to come due.
And I have the terrible suspicion that the real war hasn't even begun yet.