43. Chapter Forty-Three #2
She shot him a side-eyed look of dislike, but then Ena interrupted.
“I know this is really different from the way witches do things,” Ena explained to her sister calmly, attempting to lower the tension, “but queens can only rule alongside a king, and kingship is passed down through the male line.”
Ty found himself immensely grateful for his wife for translating.
He knew this was one of those aspects of their culture that was hard to explain to witches, since they were raised in a matriarchal society where power was chosen, not guaranteed by birth.
He also knew that Zak was a dick, and did not need to be so rude about it.
“Okay, well,” Lara chimed in, “maybe we should think outside the box a little bit…I think maybe we are all in agreement that Ty is the best choice for king, and agreeable to all parties involved, and if having Ena as his queen is the only impediment…maybe Ena shouldn’t be queen.”
“What are you suggesting?” Nial asked, his wrinkled face lighting up with curiosity.
“I propose that Ty assume the mantle of king, but Ena not assume the official role of queen.”
Ty looked over at his cousin in surprise. She had said that far too nonchalantly, almost as if she had been prepared for the discussion to go this way…
“So she would be given no title at all, then? How would she rank in the Underworld? How would we know her role?” Nial asked fairly.
Daemonic society was organized by levels, with jobs and duties given accordingly.
Without an official role for Ena, she essentially wouldn’t have a place in the Underworld, since she had not been born here.
“Maybe she could assume a different role,” Lara said casually. Again, Ty sensed that there was more going on here. What was she up to?
“A different role?” Zak asked, seeming skeptical of the idea.
“Well, given this discussion, and the tensions of the past, I wonder if we need an…interpreter of sorts. A go-between to manage relations between the three races. Someone who can help negotiate, and ideally, that would be someone who has a stake in all three communities.”
“The Auster Coven would certainly support this,” Greya said, smiling widely at Ena and seeming unsurprised. Had Lara discussed this with others beforehand too? “What do you think, Syrelle?”
Syrelle nodded her head, contemplating. “Yes, that would be agreeable to us.”
“And Aquilo?” Lara asked Cris. “Do you think Northe would go for it?”
“I can certainly bring the information back to her and see what she says,” Cris said cheerfully.
“What about the daemons?” Greya asked.
“Well, I certainly support it, and I know Steig does,” Lara said, placing her hand atop her husband’s.
“I do, as well,” Turner said—the bastard still avoiding eye contact with him. They were definitely going to have words later. “Nial? As a representative of the mid-levels, what do you think?”
“Yes…” the man replied, scratching his chin. “It certainly is unprecedented, but these are unprecedented times. Maybe it calls for new ways of thinking. Zak?”
Ty looked over to Zak, who would be the deciding factor in all this. He represented the old guard—those who had followed Cole willingly and whose hatred for witches ran deepest.
“As long as she has no official say in daemonic affairs—an advisory role only—then…yes. I believe we could live with that,” Zak said begrudgingly.
“Well then, what do you say? Ty? Ena? Is this situation agreeable to you?” Lara asked cheerfully.
Fuck, he had not seen this discussion going this way, and he felt his chest tighten even further. He was faced with a decision he’d been putting off—pushing away—for far too long. Why was this so terrifying to him?
He’d never wanted to be king, but the responsibility of everything—the expectation of being the heir—had just fallen into his lap.
It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the Underworld and daemons’ wellbeing—of course he did—but…
if he was being honest with himself, there was another reason he didn’t want it, and it wasn’t just the idea of putting Ena and Ladon in danger.
For so long, he’d been suppressing half of himself, shunning his witch half in favor of his daemonic half, because he’d had to—Cole and the entire culture of the Underworld had demanded it of him.
Deep down, he hadn’t wanted to be king because it was so exhausting to hide half of himself all the time, and he resented the fuck out of it—not to mention he’d never wanted to be associated with so much of the bad history daemons had, with the harmful things he had done.
So when they’d broken the bond to Iblis and he’d been able to access Gaia again, he’d known he didn’t want to do that anymore.
He couldn’t. Leaving to be with Ena was just his excuse for running away from something he didn’t want.
Suddenly, Ena reached out, grabbing his hand and squeezing it gently. He looked over at her, the calm, steadiness of her deep-blue ocean eyes drawing him in. She didn’t even need to speak, she simply nodded at him, her eyes scanning the table as if to say “do you see everyone here?”
His eyes followed hers to see encouraging and hopeful faces—diverse faces—and former enemies working together for the first time.
And he realized in that moment that he maybe didn’t have to hide anymore. He was married to a witch—someone who let him be his full self. His son was part witch, and his mother…she was back in his life now too.
Cole was gone, and though there would be others in the Underworld who felt the same way he had, there were more around this table who felt differently—who were open to relations with witches once more, and to a new way of life for daemons.
He’d spent so long being angry, but now, looking at the faces around the table, he finally had room for hope.
Hope that a new way was possible, if he chose to lead them. Could he do that?
He looked back at Ena to see a knowing look in her eye, making him suspect that maybe she had had something to do with forcing his hand here, forcing him to face his fear, just like he had done with her when he’d encouraged her to Change, and he decided in that moment that he had to try.
He’d be a coward not to, and he was anything but a coward, so he spoke up.
“Yes,” he said, coming to a confident decision. “We accept.”
Smiling faces looked back at him, and in Turner’s case, a highly relieved one.
“Excellent!” Nial exclaimed from down the table. “So what exactly are we calling this new role for Ena? This go-between?”
“How about ‘Omnisca’?” Max offered with a proud smile. “In stryx lore, this is someone who is intimately familiar with Omnis. Someone Omnis-chosen, if you will, who sits at the intersection of balance and chaos in some way.”
Ena nodded with a smile beside him. “I like it,” she said gratefully. “And I am honored to be chosen for this role.”
“Good,” Nial responded, writing it down and taking out a fresh sheet of parchment. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s discuss new trade and territory agreements between the three races—if that is acceptable to the king, of course?”
“Yes,” Ty said, feeling an unexpected sense of pride in the title. “Please proceed.”