Chapter 33
LYRA
As we picked up the pieces of yesterday’s battle, its aftermath had only begun to reveal itself.
Terran led his father’s warriors from Aethralis to the forest outside our capital where towering trees with silvery bark began to give way to small, rocky outcrops, hinting at a sturdier terrain across the border in Gyoria.
From there, they would return under the command of a Gyorian I’d never met.
A thaloran Terran trusted to send word to Dren, now the second most important in all of Gyoria—aside from Kael.
He, along with Terran’s other most trusted warriors, had been sent to Hawthorne Manor along Estmere’s western border to supposedly deal with Adren, now Lord of Hawthorne, in a cleverly executed diversion.
From ironclad transports which blocked Aetherian whispers, to a traitor within the palace’s ranks, a lesser noble Balthor had been apparently blackmailing for years, the now deceased king had planned his attack well.
And according to one of Lord Valdric’s men whom Terran summarily exiled, along with his master, it had been long in the making.
But for now, Terran had Aethralis. The moment he stepped into the Council chamber, a silence descended among those gathered. Those who had fought at what was being called, “The First Breach.”
“Leave us,” King Galfrid said to Eirion and the two generals who sat on either side of him. “Summon Galindre, if you would,” he added. “Have him anoint the courtyard with a calming draft, cleansing it of the breach’s violence.”
“Will that work?” Mev asked.
“In as much as it is believed to? Aye.”
A symbolic cleansing more than a practical one. Tensions had run high in Aetheria, higher among those who lived and worked in the palace, since the attack.
I wish to remember this moment for what it is.
Even suspecting what Terran meant, there still had to be hope.
How could I have fallen in love with an Aetherian?
He loved me. As I loved him. But I’d fallen for a prince. Terran was now king.
My heart raced as he approached, standing beside me.
“All is secure. None remain in Aetheria and a new second in command has been named. Courtesy of your Whispers,” he said to Galfrid, “I’ve been able to communicate with him, though my imminent return to Gyoria is still necessary. Some of the worst who colluded with my father—”
“Our father,” Kael interjected. “You need not bear that weight alone.”
Mev placed her hand atop Kael’s, a silent act of support.
“Our father,” Terran amended. “Some have already been brought to justice, though I suspect many more will follow.”
I imagined Terran placing his hand on my left shoulder in a similar gesture as Kael’s. But it remained bereft of any touch. The air shifted suddenly as his scent and presence were replaced by an absence.
Galfrid had gestured to Eirion’s empty seat at the round table the king was so fond of. I looked from one to the next at a sight none, in Elydor’s history, had ever seen.
An Aetherian king, his daughter and her Gyorian partner.
A Thalassaria queen and a human, now proxy king, sitting beside her.
Myself, a noblewoman, honored to be sitting among such a group. To my right, Lady Issa and her Thalassari corsair.
“You are always welcome at this table,” Galfrid said as Terran sat. “I have no doubt what you and your brother did to save our city was extremely difficult and I am saddened it was necessary.”
“To save us all,” Terran said. “Not Aetherians alone.” He inhaled deeply. I wanted to comfort him, but couldn’t. He looked… sad. Tired. But also resolute.
“We’ve been offered a new beginning,” Nerys said. “Thanks to King Terran and Prince Kael’s sacrifice, for the first time in many years, an opportunity for true peace is possible.”
King Terran.
Would I ever become accustomed to hearing it?
“I wish that same peace”—Galfrid looked at Mev—“for my daughter.”
Mev, who had been holding her head high since we attempted to reopen the Gate, now dropped it in defeat.
In response, Terran took the satchel he’d not removed since coming to Aethralis, and lifted it over his head. Standing, he walked to Kael, handing the Stone of Mor’Vallis to his brother.
“I leave this with him,” he said. “Along with my blessing, Princess, to use it to reopen the Gate.”
Kael placed the satchel in front of him on the table, staring at it as if the Stone would roll from the leather pouch and attack him.
“If only we could,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
It hadn’t worked. None understood the reason. Admittedly, we’d been preoccupied since that night. But when order was restored in Aethralis once again, I had no doubt we would attempt to discover it.
“Our father,” Terran boomed, his voice as deep and commanding as it had always been, though it was now tinged with…
kingship, “has sown seeds of dissent between us.” He addressed Galfrid and Mev.
“And us.” He gave his attention to Rowan.
Then Issa. “But blame does not lie at his feet alone. I allowed myself to be led astray, my mother’s memory a beacon of hate rather than love, as it should have been. ”
A beacon of love?
It seemed I wasn’t the only one surprised to hear Terran speak this way. Kael’s expression bordered on comical, his brows drawn and nose widened in unconcealed astonishment.
“I suspect it will take many years for that new path you mentioned.” He addressed Nerys. “Neither will it be unlittered with the bodies of those who still believe we are stronger separate than we are united.”
“Divisions are easily sown,” she said, “but so is hope.” Nerys turned to Mev. “Do not give up hope. You will be reunited with your mother as Rowan and Issa,” she added, “will be with their ancestors. I’ve no doubt.”
Optimism? Or something more? Was I the only one to see the quick glance exchanged between Nerys and Rowan?
“Thank you,” Mev said finally. “To all of you. For accepting me. For attempting to open the Gate.” She looked at Terran who sat down at the table.
“For saving us. I will forever be grateful and, as my father said, you are welcome at this table, in Aethralis, as an honored guest until the end of your days.”
Terran’s half-smile did little to make me forget our time together.
“Careful, princess. You forget how long an invitation you extend in a realm of immortals.”
Mev grinned. “Sometimes, I do forget. But not today.”
Around the table we went, each speaking, conjecturing about the Gate, sharing intelligence we’d individually gathered about the attack, making predictions about its fallout.
Personally, I found it difficult to sustain my attention to admittedly important matters. When I caught Terran’s gaze, and neither of us turned away for a heartbeat too long, the only thing that seemed to remain in my brain was the memory of our joining in the Glade.
I wish to remember this moment for what it is.
A moment I would remember, fondly, for all of my days.