CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT #2
While most of the Ephrian members of the Alliance had escaped Blount’s attack, they still mourned the loss of hundreds of Waulden members, as well as a few of their own.
Yet, they worked hard and carried on through their grief.
Sacrifice was expected in the Alliance, after all.
But they also took the time to hold a funeral, remembering the lives of their lost members—specifically Isla—and Rafferty.
Vayden was understandably distraught, but even he was steadily working through the outward expression of his pain, remaining always at Ilain’s side.
Ethenn hadn’t spent much time around Ilain.
That was one gratifying part of the work the Alliance asked of him.
While he was busy working with the military or training with Brea, who insisted on maintaining the same schedule of training as before in case of another attack, he was often kept separate from the Fire Mage.
And when they were in the same room, there really was no cause to speak.
It wasn’t until the second day that Ethenn had even learned of Ilain’s recovery.
She simply showed up in the council room—a grand but narrow space filled with a long table, green velvet chairs, and ornate murals on the walls—in a velvet red gown with a mourning flower pinned to the breast. The Alliance’s Administration did most of its work in the council room, often holding meetings to determine its next move.
Ethenn had stood at Brea’s side, as he most often did due to his assignments, trying not to stare at Ilain from across the room.
Everyone greeted Ilain enthusiastically, gladdened to see her well. And she did look better. Only the faintest scratch marred her forehead, though sorrow lingered in her eyes.
They hadn’t spoken a word to one another in that meeting or any other.
Several Waulden members arrived in the city over those days. Some had made it across the border before Blount’s slaughter of the city. Others came out of hiding to assist in the government’s development.
The remaining Waulden ministers were among these newcomers, their numbers narrowed by three who had fallen to Blount’s rage. Archminister Fishere was, most notably, one who had fallen. Ethenn didn’t recognize the names of the other two.
While Winton Dudleye was promoted to interim archminister, the announcement of two of the three new interim ministers caused Ethenn’s stomach to swirl.
Daulton and Rowana Calder, parents of Vayden, Auden, and Ilain, now sat with the Administration, overseeing the work.
In their sixties, the couple made a handsome pair.
Daulton looked so much like Auden that it caused Ethenn to take a second look despite his lighter red hair turning a coppery white with age.
Rowana herself had golden-white hair and the same cunning eyes as the Calder siblings.
Both were tall and willowy, their pale faces lined with wrinkles. And they were inordinately kind.
Their presence was frightening.
Ethenn hadn’t yet had a proper introduction to the parents, which was admittedly intentional. He didn’t know if they were aware of his previous relationship with Ilain, but he didn’t relish looking Daulton Calder in the eyes, knowing he’d shared a bed with the man’s daughter, then jilted her.
Thankfully, Ethenn’s work kept him out of any of the Calders’ presence for quite some time.
He and Brea spent their days with other Warriors and restructuring the military.
It was rigorous work. He often felt like he was simply Brea’s right hand, running to and from different locations, delivering her messages, or gathering supplies.
He didn’t mind being her lackey. It was an easy, out-of-the-way job.
Evylin wasn’t so lucky. As a Bonded Warrior, she was required to sit in the meetings at Deckard’s side, politicking and strategizing.
On the few occasions they’d had the chance to share a meal and catch up, she’d lamented how boring it all was.
“I wish I could train with you and the others,” she said.
Ethenn didn’t blame her. All eleven Alliance Warriors had escaped Blount’s attack. Half had come to Ephria, while the others remained in Wauld to secure the government there. Emmaas joined them in Ephria, helping to train the new soldiers.
The Warriors worked as a seamless team. General Waaver commanded the troops, managing them and creating new orders within the rule of Allund.
New officers were named, and letters were sent to the various outposts in Ephria, alerting them of the regime change.
The Ephrian Army was no more; they were part of Allund now.
On the fourth morning, Ethenn prepared to join the others in the barracks.
The Alliance required him to reside in the palace due to his charge over the Fire Relic.
He’d offered it back now that Ilain was awake, but they suggested he continue to carry it.
He didn’t like it. It made him feel brash and reckless.
He was far more reactive with it around his neck. It was troublesome.
But he slipped it over his head again, tucking it beneath his shirt.
As Ethenn buckled his sword belt, there was a knock at his door. Thom stood on the other side. “What are you doing here?” Ethenn asked at the sight of his friend.
For the time being, Thom worked primarily as a liaison between the Ephrian Army and the Allundan military.
Though he wasn’t a high-ranking officer, his reputation was known due to his assignment to the Order of the King.
And he’d been in the service long enough to know who would react favorably to the Alliance’s regime and who wouldn’t.
That meant he and Ethenn often crossed paths but rarely spent time together.
Ethenn didn’t like that either.
“We’ve been summoned,” Thom said cheerily. He leaned against the doorframe. “Sounds as though the Administration has got their ducks in a row enough to debrief us now.”
Ethenn furrowed his brow. “All of us?”
Thom shrugged. “Sounds that way.”
“Ah.” Ethenn shoved Thom into the hall. “Lead the way, then.”
“We’re meeting in the council chamber,” Thom said as they walked. “Apparently, the ministers think it’s less stuffy than the throne room, but I disagree. I don’t like standing at the end of a table while they all prattle on.”
“You don’t like many things,” Ethenn noted.
Thom grinned. “That’s true.”
They walked in silence for a moment.
“Have you talked with Ilain recently?” Thom asked.
“No,” Ethen said flatly.
Thom eyed him. “Why not?”
“There isn’t really anything to say.”
“That’s certainly not true. There are many things to say. ‘Hello. How are you? I’ve missed you. Please, for the love of Allore, take me back.’” Thom smirked. “Would you like more examples?”
Ethenn ignored him.
“You’re being an idiot,” Thom said.
“I’m being practical,” Ethenn argued. “She deserves a life better than marriage to a man she doesn’t love.”
Thom rolled his eyes. “You’re so bloody blind,” he muttered.
“All right, look, I promised to fix this, so I’m gonna fix it.
” He grabbed Ethenn’s sleeve, pulling him to a stop.
“What I said after the Time Keep—it was a lie. I thought you’d figured that out, but it seems you haven’t.
Ilain didn’t ask me to flirt with her because she didn’t have an interest in you—it was because she did. ”
Ethenn frowned at the confusing words. “What?”
Thom nodded vehemently. “Ilain liked you, evidently from the start. But she couldn’t be with someone who wasn’t a Warrior, so she tried to discourage you so neither of you would get your hearts broken. Convoluted, I know, but true.”
Staring up at his friend, Ethenn considered his words. There was no reason for Thom to keep lying. What he said was what he understood to be the truth. Ilain genuinely had feelings for Ethenn from the beginning—or at least, an attraction to him.
The sudden revelation sent a spiral of heat up his spine.
Ilain liked him—she’d had an interest in him. Yet, she’d denied them both because she was too dedicated to the Alliance. The truth hardly made it better.
With a low scoff, Ethenn decided it wasn’t enough. “It’s too late,” he said. “If she had said something sooner, maybe things would be different, but . . .”
“But what?” Thom said irritably. “She likes you; you like her. Go find that woman, haul her into a room, and make her your wife for real.”
Ethenn gave him a flat glare. “We’re not betrothed anymore,” he said. “And beyond that, I don’t want to be with her.”
“Why the bloody hell not?”
“Because whatever she felt, I’m not the right man,” Ethenn said. “If she’s going to spend her life ruling this country, she needs someone who can rule at her side. I’d muck it up.”
Thom raised his brow. “As the reigning champion of muck-ups, I can guarantee that you won’t. It’s not in your blood.”
“Hedonistic rat.”
Ethenn shut out the voice of his uncle and turned down the hall, ignoring Thom’s encouragement.
When they arrived at the council chamber, an attendant opened the door and nodded respectfully. The vaulted ceilings and large windows created a sense of spaciousness, and morning light flooded in, keeping the space bright.
The ministers were already seated at the table. Eight men and eight women of all ages, complexions, and stations. They greeted the two men with welcoming smiles. Though Ethenn had spent the last four days around them, he still couldn’t remember all their names.
Deckard and Evylin were also there, along with Brea. They all shared greetings, and Thom stepped up to Brea’s side. “Morning, bon’florá,” he quipped.
She raised her brow disapprovingly. “Did you just call me ‘pretty flower’?”
He shrugged. “I’m workshopping. The Schonese don’t have a word for ‘dryad.’”
“That’s because we don’t believe in fairy stories,” she said. “Try again.”
“As you say, pel’dagas.”
Brea rolled her eyes.