Chapter 27 #2
I watch him while chewing on my cheek. Something’s off.
Something beyond the obvious stress of our situation.
I’ve experienced Sterling worried, angry, and even frightened, but this is different.
His movements, usually economical and controlled, contain a jittery quality I’ve never witnessed before.
I sigh and create a mental reminder to revisit that concern later. For now, we have solid ideas and a host of orders to distribute.
For the next few hours, council members come and go, reporting the good news of a growing number of Fusion Root Vines. The royal scribes busy themselves with drafting copies of the map, adding all the markers and jotting down notes to explain the overlapping lines of interference.
As we continue to plot the instances on the map, the pattern I thought I saw starts to emerge more clearly.
The affected areas form direct lines between temples, as well as around them.
As soon as that pattern takes shape, sometime after the moon sets, Sterling and I begin writing letters to the rulers of the other kingdoms.
Even Meridia.
Eventually, sunlight streams through the tall windows, painting golden paths across the scattered papers on the table.
With my quill scratching across the parchment, I draft yet another missive to a neighboring nation.
Sterling sits at the far side of the room, his face a mask of concentration as he works on his own diplomatic correspondence.
Agnar sprawls in a plush chair near the fireplace, one leg thrown over the armrest in a decidedly un-military posture. He’s supposed to be writing instructions, but so far, his assistance mainly consists of occasionally calling for more supplies and ordering couriers and pages around.
“My brain is nearly mush now. How’s this?” Sterling holds up his latest draft. “‘In these troubled times, the mortal kingdoms must stand together—’”
“Boring!” Agnar lobs his apple core toward the bin. The remains hit the rim and bounce onto the floor. “Add something about how we could all die excruciating deaths if we don’t unite.”
I smirk. That might be just the kind of wording required to get the point across to the pompous Kamorians.
Sterling lowers the parchment, his expression flat. “I’m not writing that.”
“Fine. How about this? ‘The gods are at war, and we’re their chew toys.’”
Sterling’s quill hovers mid-air, and I note the debate in his eyes. “That’s…not terrible.”
Agnar preens and folds his hands behind his head. “I have my moments.”
I push my chair back, working out arms stiffened from hours of writing. “What about this? ‘Strange forces threaten all our lands. What befalls one kingdom today will reach another tomorrow. Only through unity and shared knowledge can we hope to weather the coming storm.’”
Both men gawk at me.
Sterling’s lips part, and he gazes at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “That’s—”
“Perfect.” Agnar slow claps. “Ominous enough to get their attention without sounding like we’ve lost our minds.”
Sterling nods, his eyes brimming with a warmth that eases some of my concern from the previous night. “You’ve always had a way with words, Your Majesty.”
“Well, one of us needs to.” Despite our dire circumstances, a smile tugs at my lips. “It can’t all be curses and threats.”
Agnar snorts while stretching his long legs. “Remember when our biggest problem was Sterling kidnapping you?”
Sterling scowls at his closest friend. “I did not kidnap her—”
“You absolutely did!” I point my quill at him. “You literally snatched me from the Flighthaven trial and carried me through the air to a different kingdom.”
“That was a strategic extraction during wartime.” Sterling’s lips twitch with suppressed amusement. “And if I recall correctly, you nearly killed me with the sword I gifted you afterward.”
“As any reasonable person would do when abducted.” I pet the sword at my hip.
Agnar watches our banter with a wide grin. “The question is, was she worth it?”
Sterling narrows his eyes and studies me. His gaze travels over me in a way that floods my cheeks with heat. “I’m still debating.”
I huff and toss a balled-up piece of parchment at him, which he easily dodges with a chuckle. The sound lightens the mood, pushing back the shadows of worry.
Our laughter feels good. It’s a reminder that beneath the titles and responsibilities, we’re still human. But beneath this light moment, unease lingers, because we all know it won’t last. The humor in Sterling’s eyes dims too quickly, and Agnar’s smile fades from his haunted blue eyes.
Outside the windows, clouds gather on the horizon, dark and heavy with the promise of rain. I can’t help but wonder if they’re natural or yet another sign of the divine conflict raging above our heads.
How long before the war in the heavens fully descends upon us? And when that happens, do we have any hope of surviving?
I expel the air from my lungs and return to my letters.
No point in borrowing problems from tomorrow.
Not when tomorrow may never even come.