Chapter 13 Twilight Visitor
Rowena pressed herself firmly against the column. Her heart was pounding so hard she was afraid it might give her away. Zephyrah's melancholic music cut off abruptly, and there was a long pause.
Then, Jhas'tir's voice cut through the silence.
"Give us a moment." His words were cold and steady.
Rowena listened to the soldiers' armor clinking as they backed away.
Then Zephyrah's voice rang out, surprisingly gentle.
"You shouldn't be here, Jhas'tir."
Rowena peeked around the corner. Jhas'tir was standing before Zephyrah, setting a lantern down at their feet. He looked uneasy-scared, even.
"Neither should you." He snapped, his tone harsh. The King drew a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. He began to pace back and forth.
Zephyrah stood silently. Her hands were folded in front of her as she watched him carefully.
Finally, he stopped pacing and exclaimed, "How could you do this, Zephyrah?"
"Do what?" She asked, her eyes wide in shock.
Jhas'tir's voice wavered. His hands, which were balled into tight fists, trembled in rage. "The vision? Surely, you could have conjured something-anything-other than-"
"The truth?" She interjected, bluntly. She stared at him intensely for a long moment before continuing, "No. I can only show what the Ancient Power allows. I cannot spin false prophecies."
She stepped closer to him, placing her hands on his shoulders, "I begged you, Jhas'tir. I didn't want to do it."
He shrugged away from her touch, "I had no choice. I was afraid to look weak in front of the council, but now-"
He stopped short, his voice catching in his throat. His shoulders slumped, and his face fell. For the first time, the unbreakable King looked lost and desperate.
"Now, I look much worse than weak." His voice wavered, "I look illegitimate. Forsaken."
"No!" Zephyrah pleaded. She cupped his face in her hands. "You are not your father, Jhas'tir. The Ancient Power hasn't left you. Our people see that."
"Then why did the Guardian not come to me?" He whispered, "Do I not have that right by birth?"
He searched her face, desperate for answers. "I have begged for the Guardian's guidance for so long. I want nothing more than to restore our people, our home, yet I am shut out. It leaves the fate of our people with outsiders instead of me, their King."
Zephyrah lowered her gaze and took his hands in hers, "I have never understood it." She admitted, uncertainty plain in her voice, "But our answers lie with these outsiders and the relic they brought with them. I don't know how it connects, but they have not come here by chance. We need their help."
"It is too late for them now," Jhas'tir said, his voice grim.
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"The council wants them arrested and hanged.
They believe the vision was an omen, a warning to return to the old way.
They want complete reformation. Destruction of anything that is not made by nature, outsiders killed on the spot, and no-" He faltered, his voice dropping to a whisper, "No more kings. They want to rule themselves."
"That's ridiculous." Zephyrah stated, crossing her arms, "How will that change anything? You and I are the only ones left who can still channel the Ancient Power. How do they intend to restore our home if they remove you?"
Jhas'tir didn't say anything, but gave her a knowing look instead.
Zephyrah's face crumpled, "No..."
"Yes. With the outsiders out of the way, they believe they can take the relic and find some way to access its power."
Rowena's heart beat hard in her chest as she listened from the shadows.
Zephyrah shook her head, "It's impossible. They will never succeed."
"It will not stop them from trying. As long as the people believe there is hope, the council will have their support."
"No!" Zephyrah exclaimed, "You are their King! You must fight this!" Zephyrah's breath grew fast and ragged, and her eyes grew wide with fear.
Jhas'tir took a deep, shaky breath, "This is beyond my control now. The entire kingdom saw that vision, Zephyrah. The people are afraid. The Guardian did not come to me as it did with my ancestors. They will believe I am not fit to rule, just as the council does."
"You will lose your throne..." Zephyrah murmured, hardly believing the words as she spoke them.
Jhas'tir spoke softly, his fingers trembling as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You always said you would be called to leave one day... I never thought it would happen like this... I always hoped-"
He stopped suddenly, looking away.
Zephyrah pressed gently, "What is it?"
"I hoped you might forget that silly fantasy. That you would decide to marry me, as we planned. I thought we could restore our kingdom together. Now I see... that will never happen."
Zephyrah's lip trembled, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "It will. I will return with the answers we seek. You'll see."
Jhas'tir didn't say anything; instead, he walked to one of his guards and took a long, slender object wrapped in cloth, then returned and gave it to Zephyrah.
"This is-" She began.
"Yes." He nodded.
Zephyrah's voice trembled, "The council will suspect your hand in this."
"Yes. They will think I am trying to save my throne. I could lose my head."
"No, you can't!" Zephyrah exclaimed, desperately, "Tell them-tell them I took it."
Jhas'tir's face hardened again, "No." He said firmly.
"They will believe it." She added, desperately, "They have been wanting to be rid of me anyway. They will jump at the chance. And your guards," she gestured to the soldiers nearby, "They are loyal to you. They will corroborate whatever story you choose."
"Don't ask me to do that, Zephyrah." Jhas'tir said through gritted teeth, "I cannot go through with it. You will be exiled. Labeled as a traitor, and if you are caught-"
"I will not be caught." She told him firmly.
Jhas'tir inhaled a deep, ragged breath, as if considering her words. After a long silence, he finally said, "Okay... I'll do it." His voice was heavy with grief, "You will not be able to return here unless you have the answers. If you fail-"
"I won't fail." She promised, cradling his face in her hands. "I will come back to you. Then I will marry you, and we will restore our home, just as we dreamed."
Jhas'tir shuddered and sighed, pressing his forehead against hers. He pulled her close, wrapping her tightly in his arms. "I just hope I am still here when you get back."
"Don't say that." She wept. Tears poured down her face, and her voice was ragged and desperate, "Please, you have to try. Don't let them kill you. Run if you have to. I will find you-"
He abruptly took Zephyrah's chin in his hand and kissed her tenderly, cutting off her words. Then he leaned back and wiped away her tears.
"Do you have a plan?" He asked gently.
Zephyrah nodded. "We will need a distraction."
"When?"
"At sundown."
"You will have it."
They stood in silence, clinging to each other in the darkness, as if their love could ward off the storm.
Having heard enough, Rowena slipped away and crawled quietly back into her bed. Her mind buzzed with questions.
She thought she knew Jhas'tir.
She thought she understood her mission.
But what did this mean?
How could she help their people when she had her own people to save?
She replayed every word in her mind. She had so many questions, but how could she ask them without admitting she'd eavesdropped on such an intimate moment?
No. She could never speak of this.
Sundown. She told herself.
She wasn't certain what would happen, but finally she had hope.
At sundown, they might make their escape.