Chapter 17
There was no delay. The attendant neither announced her nor hesitated at the entrance; instead, he just opened it and moved aside. Imani breezed in, the heavy oak door closing softly behind her with a definitive finality that detached her from the corridor.
Imani scanned the council room before walking further, noticing a few details she’d missed during their first meeting.
Tall, unbroken stone walls, engraved with ancient symbols of authority and heritage, caught the dim light from hanging lanterns.
A long table ran down the middle, its surface mostly bare except for the map spread across it, making it the room’s focal point.
Esa had taken position along the table’s left side, close enough to reach the map without standing beside either of them, leaving Imani to approach from the opposite end with the whole strategy spread between her and Ellisar.
Esa’s presence made sense. As Imani’s First Witch, she was more than an advisor; she was the person expected to stand at Imani’s right hand if she reclaimed Essenheim.
Ellisar had already questioned her that morning about what came after Tanyl—whether Imani had named an Heir Apparent, how she intended to handle succession, and what would happen to the kingdom if her claim ended with her. Esa had answered what she could and refused to decide the rest for Imani.
Apparently, Ellisar had not asked those questions idly.
The Mesial Realm stretched wide beneath her gaze, etched with layered detail that precisely marked every border, river, and stronghold.
Essenheim stood at its center, reinforced with darker lines and additional markings that indicated supply routes, fortified passes, and defensive positions already in place.
Niflheim’s territory extended into colder, harsher terrain, its edges marked with points of reinforcement where Ellisar must have anticipated spreading conflict.
Lochheim’s coastlines curved along the map’s edge, annotated with naval positions and controlled entry points, while Draswood loomed along another border.
Smaller notations crowded the margins, as if anticipating movements.
Arrows marked potential incursions. Circles identified weak points in the Fabric where strain might break through again.
Reinforcement paths were already drawn, some complete, others only partially mapped, all converging on the same conclusion.
He had been preparing this whole time, even without knowing who she was to Essenheim. Her hand went to the crown, rubbing one of the soft petals between her fingers. This was his territory, his plan. Once again, she had the unmistakable feeling of being maneuvered, and she didn’t like it.
The High Sentinel remained frozen, hands behind his back, as her boots crossed the floor.
His blue eyes stayed steady and unyielding beneath a severe brow as he gave her a quick once-over.
Short silver hair caught the low light, emphasizing the hard angles of his face.
He wore a dark, fitted tunic reinforced with leather at the shoulders and chest, giving him the bearing of a man built equally for command and conflict.
Imani stepped to the table and ran her fingertip over the edges of the map. “Do you ever encounter a problem without drawing arrows all over it?”
“Rarely.”
“Terrifying.”
Ellisar pointed to another route. “Mock the arrows when you have a better plan.”
“I generally prefer murder.”
His brows shot up.
“Less parchment,” she added. A faint twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth before a serious look passed over his face.
She looked back down at the map again. Several routes had been marked away from the border villages, each one leading civilians inland before any military advance had been drawn.
“Why did you mark evacuation routes first?” she asked. “Before the attack routes.”
Ellisar stepped a foot closer. “Armies exist to protect people.”
Her eyes lifted to his.
“If the people die while we save the border, we failed,” he added.
His words stunned her a little, but she crossed her arms and kept on. “Ellisar, why have you called me here?”
He clasped his hands behind his back and cleared his throat. “I will help you reclaim your throne,” he said, voice stripped of any inflection. “Essenheim will be yours.”
His certainty made Imani reel back slightly. If he was offering the kingdom so freely, the price would be exacted just as knowingly, and it wouldn’t be small.
Ellisar didn’t move as the agreement hung between them. Imani crossed her arms, ready for a fight but also willing to hear him out.
“And how are we going about this?” Imani asked. “He’ll have his own Drasil wand and the full might of Stralas behind him.”
Pointing to the map, Ellisar didn’t miss a beat.
“We don’t confront him directly. We enter his palace during a distraction, use the force of your wand and magic to overpower him, then insert ourselves in the palace.
” His gaze held hers; the plan was clearly fully formed in his mind.
“If we isolate him, all he has is the Drasil. You have that plus the might of the Crown of Life and Under magic.”
Imani looked down at her own wand, taking in that unmistakable deep red wood, its grain running in dark lines along the shaft beneath symbols so old no living scholar could read them.
Even at rest, a faint magic signature rippled around a Drasil, distorting the air nearest the carvings as if the wand never fully stopped exerting itself on the world.
Esa gave a slight, approving nod.
Imani touched her fingers to the crown again, feeling its branches and thorns as she calculated.
“And we don’t kill him,” Ellisar added. “We take him alive. A dead ruler inspires a kingdom, but a captured one is leverage.”
Esa stepped in. “There’s just one problem,” she warned, pointing to the Nifhelm kingdom. “Kiran is unpredictable yet allied with Tanyl.”
A ghost of a smile touched Ellisar’s lips. “The isolation is the point. We get him alone, and from a distance, even Kiran becomes manageable.”
“Your entry point is what?” Imani pressed, tapping her foot impatiently. “You mentioned a distraction, but what exactly are you referring to?”
“The Yule Ball,” he replied. “It will be chaos, giving us a window to slip in.”
Imani considered it. “Once we’re inside, we’re on his ground.”
“Only until we take the Drasil. After that, it becomes ours.”
She held his stare. “If we can corner him at just the right time.”
“We will.”
“Good. This could work,” she said.
“Then the Drasil will be mine,” Ellisar stated, his tone flat. “Not shared. Not leveraged. Mine.”
The words made her swallow hard, yet she remained rooted to the spot. “How long have you known he possessed it?” she asked, moving closer to the table and taking in the miniature figurines and landscaping details.
He paused, long enough to make it obvious he was debating how much truth to give her.
“Long enough to form this plan,” he said, eventually.
Frustration built up fast, but she forced it down. “Where did he get it?”
Ellisar tapped his fingers together a few times, thinking. “Tanyl is a magical talent, but he can’t compete when it comes to cleverness, so I know he didn’t uncover the Drasil in some ruin or steal it from another witch.”
“Then where?” Imani pressed.
“I’m almost certain the Upper Deity breeds put it into his hands.”
Imani’s mouth fell open. “They gave Tanyl a Drasil?”
“As part of a bargain.”
Her chest heaved as her breathing picked up, running through what she knew about the Upper Realm, which was almost nothing. “That’s not possible,” she breathed. “It’s—”
“A bargain with the Upper is entirely possible,” he interrupted. “And it’s the only way something like that ends up in his hands… unless, of course, you want to tell me how you came to be in possession of one?”
She walked closer without realizing it, pointing at his chest, indignant. “That’s my business. And breeds that powerful wouldn’t give him anything like that without a return. You know that.”
“I do.”
“Then what did he trade?”
A beat.
“I don’t know.”
The answer sounded too honest. Her face heated as she continued to rein in her irritation. “You don’t know,” she repeated, more slowly this time.
“I don’t,” he said again, but there was a lie beneath it this time, a truth he held back, something he was not offering freely.
“Or you won’t say,” Imani said, chin lifted.
Ellisar shrugged. “That bargain will cost him,” he said, redirecting without outright denying it. “More than he understands.”
“That’s not… that’s not enough,” she pushed. “If we’re dealing with something like that—if he’s already—” The thought cut off as it formed, unfinished but heavy all the same.
“I know,” Ellisar said, interrupting before she could finish it. “And so do you.”
Her eyes searched his face, probing for anything he might be hiding or hadn’t already disclosed. “You’ve been preparing for this,” she said. “Prior to now.”
Another pause, shorter this time.
“Yes.”
The admission was heavy with dread, and inescapable.
“And you still won’t tell me.”
“No,” he said without hesitation. “I don’t trust you.”
A suffocating sensation gripped her chest, but she stayed firm and pushed again. “If you understand this much, you also know what that kind of bargain entails. You know what it becomes.”
He inclined his head. “It means the Drasil came with heavy terms. The Upper did not hand Tanyl that much power out of generosity. Whatever they demanded in exchange is now tied to the power supporting his reign.”
“And you don’t know what they demanded.”
“No.”
“Which means taking the Drasil could interfere with a bargain we don’t understand.”
“You’ve always been cleverer than Tanyl,” he said, picking up his own wand and running his finger down the grooved Draswood.
Anxiety made Imani’s chest constrict again. Ellisar leaned against the table, casual yet still watching her with that knowing look in his eyes. “Taking Tanyl’s Drasil creates the opening. Removing him gives you the throne. What happens the morning after is the part I care about.”
Imani’s spine stiffened. Beside her, Esa went utterly still.
He tapped Essenheim with one finger. “If my soldiers help strip a sitting ruler of the weapon holding his position together, I am committing Vathis to whatever replaces him.”
“We may be entering into an unbidden war with the Upper if we disrupt their plans with Tanyl.”
Those blue eyes looked up at Imani again.
“I didn’t say the plan wasn’t without risks.
Now,” he pointed to the capital on the map, “You have the Crown of Life, a Drasil, and enough power to take Stralas. But you do not yet have an established succession, an Heir Apparent, or a political structure strong enough to survive if someone challenges you the day after Tanyl falls. I will not remove one unstable reign merely to create another succession crisis like this one.”
Esa and Imani exchanged questioning looks. Ellisar straightened to his full height.
“Which is why taking the Essenheim and holding it are the same problem to me. I will take Tanyl’s Drasil, and I will stand with you when you claim Essenheim.
But I need to know what we are building will remain standing afterward.
You need someone whose name, armies, and existing authority make attacking your new reign more expensive,” he said softly.
“I am offering that. Publicly and permanently enough for the rest of Essenheim to believe it.” A beat passed. “I want you as my chosen mate.”
Esa exhaled slowly in a hiss. Her wide eyes told Imani she now finally understood where Ellisar’s questions about succession and an Heir Apparent had been leading.
Imani wanted to flinch, but she didn’t. Her eyes met his, unblinking despite his manipulation. The implications of such a match bloomed in her mind.
He didn’t desire her. She wasn’t that stupid.
No, like Kiran, he wanted to consolidate power.
The chosen-mate bond did not make them heartmates.
Indeed, the magic promised only that they had chosen a bodily connection to one another.
Politically, however, the choice mattered because Ellisar would be publicly tying his existing power, armies, and name to hers.
And it would make him the king regent in her place.
An unease churned in her belly. Trying to ignore it, she deliberated with her fingers pressed to her mouth.
“I won’t move forward without your answer,” Ellisar said, interrupting her thoughts.
He had sprung the trap for her, leaving no room for delay. A muscle in Imani’s jaw feathered. What a bunch of bullshit, she thought, the image of the one person she supposedly trusted most flashing bitterly through her mind.
But she needed Tanyl out of the way.
“You already know my answer,” she sneered. “I want my throne.”
His gaze narrowed to slits. “Then say it.”
Silence stretched for a fraction of a second.
“Yes,” she hissed through gritted teeth.
Ellisar merely cocked his head again, gratitude clearly the last thing on his mind.
Biting her lip, then releasing it, Imani decided she wouldn’t let the weight of the concession crush her.
She’d pivot. “Yule is in three weeks,” she said, her tone dead-level, burying the ransom in logistics.
“Your forces recover from Lochheim, we position for entry, and we take the Drasil before he can reinforce… or Kiran can intervene.”
“Three weeks,” Ellisar confirmed. “We choose the entry, set the hour, and hit him before he can change the board again.”
“We need a backup plan… and more forces than just the Norn to come to our aid,” Imani countered, claiming the opening.
Imani’s First Witch nodded. “I agree. If the original plan fails, who else can we rally to our side?”
Ellisar rubbed his chin. “Gorrum is the Norn’s close neighbor and ally. He’s probably our best bet.”
Esa’s stare darted to Imani, then to Ellisar. “Gorrum is my High Sentinel. If there’s a path to his support, I can secure it.”
“If you believe he’ll answer you, pursue it,” Ellisar said, offering neither resistance nor encouragement.
The room fell quiet at Ellisar’s final words, even as Imani’s mind ran through potential failures again and again. Her fingers curled into a fist as she stared at the map of Essenheim spread across the room’s center.
She had committed herself to far more than an alliance.
In three weeks, she intended to infiltrate Stralas, steal a Drasil tied to an unknown bargain with the Upper, remove a sitting king, and claim his throne with Vathis’s armies behind her.
If any part failed, Tanyl would know exactly who had moved against him.
If they succeeded, Imani would inherit every enemy his fall created.
And now Ellisar would be tied publicly to whatever came next.
A chosen mate had never been part of her plan. She had accepted one because armies, legitimacy, and a throne were worth a price she could resent later.
Imani had what she needed to take the throne. Now, she would pay the price.