Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Council Tower radiates tension as Sterling reveals the encounter with Rivlan to Agnar, Bastian, Leesa, and the council members. I fidget with the sleeve of my tunic, trying to focus on Sterling’s words rather than the way my stomach twists into knots.
A god has chosen my fiancé.
A god has offered him power beyond our wildest imaginations.
I should feel proud, relieved even. And a huge part of me is. At the same time, I’m drowning in a conglomeration of disparate emotions.
Sterling stands by our circular table, fingers splayed across a detailed map of Tirene. Flickering candlelight catches the angles of his face and grants him a more regal appearance than usual. More distant.
“Champion and guardian.” His eyes meet mine before scanning the room. “That’s what he said.”
The division is already visible in their postures and expressions.
Dalya’s eyes alight with eagerness. “With a king holding such powers, no one would dare even threaten us.”
Fenton strokes his chin, his fingers rasping over morning stubble. “This could be a sign to the rest of the world that we are favored by the gods.”
Agnar scoffs from his position at Sterling’s right side, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Not gods. God. What of the others? Don’t forget what we heard at the portal.
Those bone-shaking booms. No offense to your would-be patron, Knox, but I’ve seen enough celestial intervention to last several lifetimes. ”
My mind drifts to my own experiences with Nyc, Orin, and Hallr.
That alliance helped us defeat Narc.
But at what cost? The gods have always sought their own agendas, played their own games that spanned millennia while we mortals lived and died in the blink of their immortal eyes.
Then again, we didn’t get much of a choice. Narc tried to strip us of our free will and turn us into puppets dancing on divine strings. And none of the other gods stepped in to stop him.
They left that little task to us. To me. To defend ourselves against a rogue god.
“I see your reasoning.” Rafe’s eyebrows knit together. “But just think about it. A guardian’s power could give us the edge we need. With godlike abilities, we could strengthen our defenses beyond anything Aclaris or any other kingdom could breach.”
My fingers find the ledge of the table, and I trace the worn wood. “The gods help themselves first. I hate to say it, but I’m afraid any benefit to us is…incidental.”
Leesa toys with a loose strand of dark golden blond hair, her features etched with concern as she regards me with a cocked head.
My adopted sister knows me too well. No doubt she can see the turmoil beneath my careful words.
Bastian clears his throat, drawing our attention. He sits surrounded by ancient tomes, his fingers stained with ink from hours of research. The resemblance between us—the same hazel eyes and dark brown hair—seems more pronounced when he’s focused like this.
“There’s something you should know.” He flips open a particularly weathered book with reverent hands. “In all of history, there have been fewer than fifty documented guardians. And right now, only one’s known to be active. The Guardian himself.”
“That’s one more reason for me not to accept Rivlan’s offer.” Sterling’s features harden. “I don’t want to risk becoming something like him.”
I nod in agreement. That’s when I realize I understand very little about a guardian’s purpose. “Bastian, what exactly does being a guardian entail?”
He runs a finger down a yellowed page. “The texts describe enhanced magical abilities that are significantly stronger than what the person could naturally wield.” He glimpses up at Sterling. “You’d likely find your abilities amplified beyond anything we’ve witnessed before.”
My stomach clenches at the thought of that much power. Of the potential consequences. Of the gravity of becoming so godlike.
“There are also accounts of divine senses. The ability to perceive things hidden from mortal eyes. Incredible physical strength and endurance. Enhanced healing. And,” Bastian hesitates, shooting me an uneasy glance, “a significantly longer lifespan.”
The room stills, every breath magnified in the sudden silence. My heart drops as the implications stab me in the heart.
Sterling would outlive me.
“Define ‘significantly longer.’” Sterling voices my fear.
Bastian grimaces, shifting in discomfort. “Ahh, I’m not sure. I’m thinking centuries. Possibly longer.”
My jaw drops open.
Hundreds of years? Gods. That means he’d watch me age and die. Our children age and die. Their children.
Sterling’s gaze finds mine from across the room, and understanding passes between us. The emotions playing over his handsome face echo my own. Shock. Sorrow. Determination.
We both saw the Guardian. Despite his otherworldliness, he resembled a man in his prime.
My throat constricts, eyes burning with unshed tears. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out.
Sterling pushes to his feet, the chair scraping against the stone floor. His shoulders are rigid, his jaw set in that stubborn way I’ve come to know so well. “That makes the decision a no-brainer.”
I gather my courage. “Knox—”
“No. Absolutely fucking not. I’m not spending centuries without you.” His voice cracks a little, and something inside me breaks with it. “I won’t live while the people I love die. I’ve already done that too many times.”
The room erupts into arguing.
“That’s exactly why you should do it!” Rafe slaps a hand on the table. “Centuries of protection for our kingdom. Think of what that means for future generations.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Agnar shoots Rafe a what-the-fuck look. “At what cost? His humanity? His soul? We saw what the Guardian has become. Not quite mortal, not quite god. Something in between. And there’s no one else like him. A depressing way to exist, if you ask me.”
“But the power you’d gain could do incredible good, Knox.” Nira’s calm but firm statement rises above the others. “We must consider the bigger picture.”
“The bigger picture?” A vein throbs in Sterling’s temple. “Like the ‘bigger picture’ that led us into war with Aclaris? The ‘bigger picture’ that nearly cost Lark her life? I’m tired of ‘bigger pictures’ painted by gods who view us as pawns.”
“No offense, dear,” Duchess Breann pats Nira’s hand, “but you haven’t lived long enough to know how time and loss can harden someone’s heart. I agree with Prince Knox. This is not a path he should walk alone.”
I stay silent, my mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. Though relief washes over me at Sterling’s refusal. Selfish, perhaps, but honest. I don’t want him to suffer centuries alone. Or imagine him tormented while I, along with our children, wither away from old age.
Guilt simmers beneath that relief.
Am I the sole reason he’s declining such power? Power that could protect our kingdom? Our people? The world?
As the arguments swirl around us, I try to catch Sterling’s eye again, but he deliberately avoids me, focused instead on the maps spread before him.
A phantom hand squeezes my heart. Is he angry with me? Does he think I want him to accept Rivlan’s offer? Or can he read the worry on my face?
“Enough!” Sterling pounds both fists on the table.
“This is my decision and not up for debate. We’re wasting time.
Divine offer or not, we have more immediate concerns.
Tirene cannot become collateral damage in this divine war.
We need to revert to our previous plan because this one is not. Fucking. Acceptable!”
The bickering ceases. The room’s attention snaps to the prince.
I seize the opportunity to gather my composure and rise to my feet.
“Knox is right. Whatever games the gods are playing, our priority is protecting our people.” I stand close enough to Sterling that our arms brush.
“We’ve survived invasions, assassinations, and a rogue god.
We’ll survive this too. Through our own strength, not through divine power with doubtful motives. ”
Sterling finally glances at me, his eyes bright with gratitude. “My queen speaks wisely. Listen to her.”
“Well then,” Agnar rubs his temples, as if the conversation has given him a headache, “what’s our plan?”
I spread my hands over the map and trace the borders of Tirene. “We prepare. We fortify our magical defenses. We teach magic merging. We continue to patch up the holes the gods leave as they battle. We stay vigilant.”
“And Rivlan’s offer?”
Ugh. Leave it to Rafe not to let the subject drop.
“It remains just that.” Sterling meets the guild master’s gaze, his tone brooking no argument. “An offer. Not an acceptance.”
Rafe swishes his hand. “For now.”
While Sterling dips his proud head, the stubborn set of his shoulders conveys that his mind is made up. “Yes. For now.”
Bastian begins gathering his books. “I’ll continue researching guardians and champions. There may be alternative ways to gain some of the benefits without all of the…complications.”
I nod, grateful for his practical approach. “Thank you, Bastian.”
As the council starts to disperse, breaking into smaller groups to discuss specific defensive strategies, Sterling’s hand finds mine on the table and squeezes.
“I didn’t mean to put you in that position,” I whisper.
“You didn’t, love.” Sterling drops a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Rivlan did.”
I study the strong line of his jaw and determined set of his mouth. “Are you sure about this?”
He faces me fully, and the intensity in his gold-flecked eyes steals my breath. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Lark. Some powers aren’t worth the price.”
I want to argue, to insist that he shouldn’t base his decision solely on me, but the words die in my throat. Because a selfish part of me, that part that wants to keep him for the mortal span of years we have together, is grateful.
Somehow, we’re going to figure this out. “Okay. It’s settled. We’ll find another way. Together.”