Chapter 48 #2
Finally, Owain turned his attention back on Chrys. Chrys held Owain’s gaze for a long time, struggling to form the necessary words.
“He plans to take on Iridaceae. Before I was found impersonating Calix, I heard several of his advisors talking about runes and ways to break through the magic that binds them. He thinks he can disrupt the barrier. Says if his bastard son and his whore want to hide out in the magic lands, he has no problem razing the place to get them.”
Orla snapped her head at Owain, knowing fear was etched on her face.
“Could he do that?”
Owain seemed to know more about magic than most, and Orla thought that if anyone knew about the ability to disrupt that level of magical power, he would know.
“It’s not impossible,” Owain said contemplatively.
“If he wanted to take down the barrier with Iridaceae, he would just have to weaken it along certain points in the mountain. It’s all held in place by runes.
If the runes were tampered with or if they lost power, he could create a weak point that could be exploited. ”
“How long would it take for him to exploit a weakness like that?” Cessly asked.
“Don’t know. It depends on how much he knows about the runes holding the barrier in place. But from what Chrys is sharing, and from what we learned after Orla was attacked, King Vernon has likely been experimenting with runes for some time.”
The four of them sat there for a moment, thinking about what that would mean for them if King Vernon was serious about trying to bring down the barrier.
It would mean war between every kingdom on the continent of Esrom.
But more than that, it would mean that they weren’t safe. At least not for long.
“What do you think our options are?” Chrys said to the group.
“We could try to go back and stop him. That poses its own set of challenges as there are four of us and his armies and the battalions of his allies are in the thousands.” Chrys nodded grimly.
“Or we could inform the Iridaceaen Council. Though there’s no guarantee they would believe us.
Their runes have been in place for all of living memory.
I doubt they would see that they could be faulty. ”
Chrys nodded again. “True.”
Owain turned his gaze to Cessly and Orla.
“What do you think, my goddess?” He placed his hand gently on Orla’s thigh, breaking her out of her thought spiral.
Since Chrys announced the king’s plan, her breathing had become uneasy and her heart was thrumming.
Thoughts of war and death overwhelmed her as they had so many times before.
But now, Owain’s strong hand on her thigh grounded her, and she looked into his kind eyes.
“Breathe, Orla,” he commanded in a gentle voice. “We’ve all been to war. We all know the stakes. I just want to know your thoughts.” He squeezed her thigh reassuringly.
Being a fighter had never been in Orla’s nature.
She had rushed into the king’s army searching for something that had felt so far away from her.
She had never cared for violence or bloodshed.
Gods, she didn’t have a vested interest in Emmental’s geopolitics.
She was just a female who had wanted to feel valued.
War had brought that, until it hadn’t.
And now, in front of her was a male who gave her all of that and more.
She was valued by Owain, cherished by him.
And not because of the hard facade she lived in for so much of her life.
But for who she was on the inside. She could be a fighter when she needed to be and maybe would be again when the time came.
But she was done rushing into wars. Done sacrificing the softest parts of herself to Elven cruelty and conquest.
“I’ve fought my battles, and I’ve had my wars. Until a war comes I want to sit by the riverbed with you, eating berries and enjoying whatever time we have left that is ours.”
She looked out at the three people in front of her.
Each had sacrificed something for the battles between Emmental and Edam.
She wouldn’t take for granted what might have to be sacrificed for keeping themselves safe if war came to Iridaceae.
But she wouldn’t take those potential sacrifices as lightly as she had before losing Rhyan.
Her gaze locked on Owain, a knowing smile on his lips.
For as much as Orla felt whole with Owain, she knew he felt the same about her.
She didn’t see him as a bastard. She didn’t need him to prove his worth to her.
She thought him worthy of her care, of her body, and most importantly, of her heart.
Choosing Orla had meant turning his back on everything he had thought he wanted.
But, as Owain said, what was the respect of a few noble lords when he had the adoration of a goddess?
“I told you, love, I will follow you anywhere. Worship you everywhere.” He gave her a roguish grin. “And if we have to fight, we will. But I will go where you go, Orla. To riverbeds or to war, I’m yours.”
The End