Chapter 60 Elena
ELENA
I have wandered so far that I have forgotten the smells of home and the warmth of goodness freely given.
—from The Odyssey of Goromount: A Play
The last rays of the sunset seeped in from the windows, catching the river of pearls and seashells.
Her attendant glanced nervously over his shoulder, but Elena did not slow, her sandals slapping against the tiles with a resounding clack, her pallu billowing behind her like a blazing flag.
No rulers without a seat were allowed in during a vote, but Elena did not mind if it meant avoiding Samson. Or her own guilt.
Instead, she focused on how the guards snapped to attention, how the attendant waved for the doors to open, how a low, heavy groan echoed through the hall as the doors swung in and she entered the cold council room once more.
Syla, Risha, Bormani, and Kysha were already seated, talking quietly. She did not see Farin, but they still had a few precious minutes before the vote began.
Elena slid into a seat beside Syla, who broke from his conversation with his attendant and turned to her.
“Did you meet with Bormani?” she asked softly.
He nodded. “He’s convinced. Risha?”
Elena looked across the table, catching the gaze of the Tsuani queen. Risha did not smile, but she gave a singular nod.
“We have it, Syla,” she said.
Before she could say anything else, the doors opened to reveal Farin and his retinue.
She tried to decipher his expression, to look for clues on how he had spent the last few hours, but the metal king’s face was cold and remote as he took his seat.
He met the eyes of no one, spoke to no one.
He dismissed his attendants with a wave of his hand, and they shrank back like kicked shobus.
He’s pissed, she thought delightedly.
“Now that we are all settled, let’s start,” Risha called. “Let the records state we begin at five past the sun’s zenith, in Tsuana with Queen Risha presiding. We will take attendance…”
As each ruler answered for attendance, Elena observed, noting how Kysha’s gaze kept sliding toward Farin, how Bormani tapped the table in an uneasy rhythm, how Syla sat with his shoulders tensed, as if in anticipation.
They all knew what was coming. Like sharks in water, they could smell the iron-rich promise of blood.
“Ravence?”
“In attendance,” she said.
“Then we have all members of the council here today,” Risha said.
She paused, as if now realizing the sudden gravity in the air, the compressed charge building around them.
The attendants shifted nervously too. For a moment, Risha closed her eyes, steeling herself.
Then she turned to Elena. “Queen Elena, we left off with a… proposal from you.”
Proposal was a delicate way of dressing up a threat, but Queen Risha was nothing if not diplomatic.
Elena slowly pressed her hands on the table.
“Thank you, Queen Risha. Like I said in today’s earlier session, I come with three demands: one, the removal of all Jantari troops from Ravence and Seshar; two, the nullification of all Sesharian labor contracts in Jantar; and three, the head of Farin’s youngest son.
” She paused then. Her father had always taught her the value of silences.
Elena used one now to give them time to consider the implications of her demands, and she saw them all stir in unease.
“I understand it is a lot to contemplate, so I have a new proposal. I motion that we add a new seat to the council. Another king, to help us evaluate and understand the stakes.”
Farin snarled. “I am not going to allow some Sesharian scum—”
“On the contrary,” Elena said sharply. “I propose adding a new seat not for Seshar, but for another kingdom. A prudent and powerful one. A kingdom that will play a critical part in the future of the second continent.”
“And who would that be, young queen?” Kysha snorted. “A kingdom of the Sky People?”
“No,” Elena said, as the great doors groaned open. “The kingdom of the Yumi of Moksh.”
Daz entered, flanked by two Yumi warriors with unbound hair that prickled and shivered like a weapon unsheathed. Gasps sounded around the room. Kysha grew alarmingly pale, and Farin stared, his mouth hanging agape. Bormani looked as if he were about to faint.
Daz stopped just a few feet from the table. He had cleaned up well. Gone was the blood on his wrists, the tears in his clothes. He wore full regalia, the trident of the Goddess flashing gold above his chest as he carefully inclined his head.
“Esteemed members of the council,” he said, “I humbly offer my request to join your ranks. For too long, the kingdom of the Yumi has ignored the affairs of her brothers and sisters of the second continent. But with such conflict abroad, we believe it is our duty to help steer the future of the continent.”
Farin made a strange choking sound. The attendants closer to the Yumi soldiers shrank back as their hair twisted in the air, tasting their fear.
Elena spread her hands. “Shall we vote, then?”
“I motion we grant a seventh seat to the esteemed General Daz of the Kingdom of Moksh,” Syla said, as they had rehearsed.
“I second it,” she said.
Risha, who had seen this unfold so quickly within her palace, swallowed hard. Then, in a small voice, said, “We move to a vote.”
“Yes,” Syla said.
“Nay,” Kysha hissed.
“Nay,” Farin said, his voice strained.
“Yes,” Bormani said.
“Yes,” Elena said, her heart leaping up her throat as she turned to Risha, the last and final vote.
Tsuana, as host of the council, did not usually partake in its affairs.
But if a vote to add a seat was called, then all members, even Tsuana, were compelled to cast their ballot.
They would need an overwhelming majority to create a new seat.
If Risha called nay and ended the vote in a tie, Daz could not join.
And Elena’s final plan, her hope for a vote on Ravani and Sesharian freedom, would fail.
Risha looked at Elena one last time.
Elena breathed out slowly. Remember, she mouthed.
“Tsuana votes,” Risha began, and Elena edged forward. The awful noise of her clamoring heart drowned her ears. She felt stretched thin, as if all her life, all her past actions, all her sacrifices and losses had led to this small, terrible moment. This simple space of seconds.
“Yes.”
For a beat, Elena had not heard her. But then Syla slammed his fist against the table, and Bormani rapped the table with his knuckles, and Daz leaned forward, resting his hand next to hers.
“Thank you,” he said.
Elena blinked, and then it came all at once, the vicious, heady thrill of victory.
She looked to Farin, saw the wheels turning in his head.
With Moksh on her side, she had the voting majority: Cyleon, Veran, Ravence, and Moksh.
Farin had only Karven on his side. Tsuana could not vote except in matters of council structure or in the event of a tie.
If Elena were to call a vote for Ravani and Sesharian freedom, he would lose, unless he turned not one, but two councilors against her.
She saw him assess this with deep resentment, and when he met her eyes, she could not help but feel vindication, savage and high.
“Queen Risha,” she said over the noise of the flurried attendants, never breaking her gaze, “I call for another vote in favor of Ravani and Sesharian independence. None of us want a long, costly war that disturbs the metal trade. If we agree to the removal of all Jantari troops from Ravani and Sesharian territories, then perhaps the trade can be restored and the costs salvaged.”
“Moksh stands in favor with Queen Elena,” Daz said, and she felt them all quail underneath his discerning gaze. “We stand against Jantar, who seeks only to expand its power until other kingdoms are brought to their knees. But Moksh refuses. We will fight for freedom, however bloody the cause.”
At this, Elena finally allowed herself the pleasure of a self-satisfied smile. She turned to the members of the council, this time making no move to mask the threat. “Ravence and Moksh stand united in favor of Ravani and Sesharian independence. How do my fellow council members vote?”
“Cyleon stands with you,” Syla said.
“As does Veran—”
“Veran?” Farin said suddenly, loudly. “Are you sure, Bormani? Even after the Arohassin tried to kill you?”
Bormani frowned. “How is that related, Farin?”
“The Arohassin sent a man by the name of Yassen Knight. Surely you remember him.”
“I know him well,” he growled.
Elena stilled. Her heart began to beat in a slow, inexorable march, like the beginning of a desert storm. Syla touched her arm. “Queen Risha, let us proceed. We must hold Jantar accountable for attempting to assassinate a council member and breaking the Treaty of Borders.”
But Farin ignored him, turning to Bormani.
“Did you ever find the assassin? Did you find where Yassen Knight ran off to?” he said, his eyes meeting hers. And Elena felt her heart seize, because she understood, in that instant, she had lost.
Bormani carefully tracked Farin’s gaze to Elena. “Where did he go?”
“To Ravence, of course,” Farin said. “Right into the arms of our dear queen here. They were lovers.”
Silence—sudden, claustrophobic—squeezed the room. Bormani stared at her with confusion while Risha pursed her lips, as if tasting something foul. Kysha smiled cruelly.
“I found them in my mountain, right before the attack on my southern mines. You said you don’t work with terrorists, young queen. Fine. Perhaps Samson Kytuu is not one. But Yassen Knight?” Farin tutted. “He tried to kill our friend.”
“That is not true,” Syla snapped. “Right, Elena?”
She could deny it. Throw Yassen in the mud and pretend she had never loved him, never ached for him, never cared. That she had planned to execute him as soon as he had served his purpose.
But he died trying to save her. On that mountain when she had felt lost in the storm of her grief, he had helped her find safe passage. He had stayed.