Chapter 15
“Time is running out, Dion.”
“We have another week.”
“Until our potential departure, yes. But that also means you must choose a course, and honestly, you should have done so a fortnight ago.”
The sigh I’d suppressed during my conversation with Antas freed itself as I regarded what my uncle had said.
Truth was, I wasn’t in the mood to make decisions, especially not this specific one, but somehow Antas had cornered me while Nayana took her sweet time in the bathroom getting ready for an audience with the queen.
She’d radiated nervous energy the entire morning, fidgeting with everything she’d gotten her tiny hands on, and I craved to stand directly by her side, easing her mind, soothing her anxiety, but instead, I was forced to deal with this steaming pile of fucking shit.
“You cannot delay your decision anymore, Dion.”
I clenched my teeth and finally faced Antas’ eyes. “It’s not that we have much of a choice, do we?”
“There are always options.”
The softness in my great-uncle’s voice set me off more than I showed.
Was he regarding me as something so fragile that he had to modulate his tone?
A wave of burning hatred threatened to drown me at that possibility.
“Great. We can choose between catastrophic bad and apocalyptic worse.” A wayward spring drilled into my ass as I dropped on the couch, and more annoyance welled in my chest. How dared this piece of furniture ruin the dramatic effect I’d been aiming for?
Rubbing my temples, I ignored Antas for a moment.
After we’d temporarily moved into the royal castle in Ivreiana and Naya had been retrieved—and had recovered enough so I’d willingly left her side—I and my comrades had undergone a lengthy discussion about our future possibilities, which could be summarized in a few simple words.
Either we’d meet Galrach’s demands, or we wouldn’t.
But what implications each road held, and if we could deal with them, was like going fishing on Teinne’s south coast—maybe you’d catch a tasty meal, or, as in most cases, a nasty episode of potentially lethal food poisoning.
And since we were dealing with my grandfather, I could already predict with certainty that the fish wasn’t only a deadly specimen, but also one promising blazing agony while killing its victim.
Everyone had clarified that, ultimately, I had to pick which path to take.
Dodgy fuckers.
Sure, all of them had voiced their point of view, but afterward, they had hidden behind the titles I carried and loathed. How very convenient for them.
The truth was, whenever Galrach was involved, I was out of my depth.
My lungs threatened to quit their job when I just contemplated returning to the High Court to face this fucking asshole of a fae and to submit to his every whim once more.
But staying away—the consequences could spell death for everyone around me, and not only did my airways threaten to fail at the thought of endangering Nayana like that, but also my whole body was in danger of shutting down.
Fuck.
How could I allow this vile asshat to hold such power over me? There must be a way to break out—just because I hadn’t found one in over three hundred winters, didn’t mean there was none, right?
But back to the immediate problem at hand.
Given my rank, I should be used to making life-or-death decisions on the fly for more than a few souls, but if I were honest with myself, I’d never been the one issuing the important commands.
In the end, the absolute authority was held by the High King, who dictated everything to me—down to the smallest things.
That realization was another bitter pill I was still swallowing.
My true weakness—oh, how being controlled disgusted me.
And so, I’d avoided any further talk about future plans. Well, until now, that is.
“Dion, I am aware this is not a simple decision, but one you have to make anyway.”
Clutching my head, I caved to his constant nagging.
“Somehow, following his summons seems to be the wiser option. We need more information about what’s happening to the worlds, and since we have no other hint on where to find out more, Alaiann might be the best place to unearth additional clues. But—”
“But?”
“Part of me wonders—fuck, are you really forcing me to state the obvious?”
“Yes.”
Fucking one-word answers. Not that fun when I was on the receiving end.
“I despise you sometimes, Uncle. Alright. What if I’m only compelled to return to court because I’m used to listening to Galrach?
” Shame burned like acid in my guts, and a muscle in my cheek ticked.
“And I loathe to lead Nayana into even more danger.”
“Have you spoken to her about it?”
“Not yet.”
“Let me guess, you assume she will blindly follow you into whatever situation you drag us into?”
Fuck, yes. That was exactly what I supposed. Antas’ eyebrow arched as he gave me one of his special looks reserved only for me, which bordered on condescension.
“Where will I blindly follow?”
My head spun around as Nayana entered the living room of our suite. She was wearing her favorite turquoise fae dress once more, and her blond hair was slightly damp. Her cerulean eyes darkened and narrowed at me with suspicion.
The question she’d hurled at me became secondary. There were two more important issues at hand. How had she lost the minor Glamour I’d placed over the colors adorning her skin under her collarbone? Had that happened when I’d dropped mine the last time? And—had Antas seen?
So, I shot up and stalked to her, disrupting the line of sight between my uncle and her with my body.
As I moved past her into the bedroom, I’d already pulled out the small bauble I’d extracted from Ireas some time ago—that he was able to store Glamour magic in little glass orbs for others to use was more than convenient—reapplied the illusion, and, satisfied with her unmarked skin, I left her standing, concentrating on rummaging through a drawer until I found what I’d searched for.
Even if there was only bare skin where moments ago her incomplete Enamcoharta had been visible, there was too much nakedness on show, considering we weren’t alone.
Growling under my breath, I returned to the sitting room and wrapped the cover-up around her shoulders, hiding the plunging neckline of her dress. “Better.”
“Dion. What the—”
My glower shut her up. If only that would also work on Antas, but no, my uncle’s chuckle didn’t cease.
Naya rolled her eyes, as she always did when she acknowledged a battle she couldn’t win, before showing me her relentless, stubborn side again. “What decision?”
Damn, I wanted her to give up on that fight as well. “I haven’t made one yet.”
“About?”
“What to do.”
“Can you be any more vague?”
“I could most definitely try.”
“Princeling. Stop that, or I’ll wrestle that answer out of you.” She flexed her hands in a gesture meant to impress me, but in reality, her threat was adorably cute. Just like the small huff she created as her eyes darted from me to Antas.
The chair she picked during her attempt to hypnotize my uncle was much too far away from me, but I allowed her to keep a distance for now.
“When you were—taken, I got another letter from the High King.”
“Your grandfather, the fae king. Yes, you’ve mentioned that, but not what he wrote.”
“Mmh. He ordered us to return to Alaiann three nights before winter solstice at the latest.”
“That’s in a week.”
“Yes. He plans to hold a ball to parade our—or, as he stated, my—binding. And only the gods can tell what other nefarious intentions he has.”
“Oh. Wait, Dion. When you said ‘us’, you’re including me as well?”
“Of course.”
My mind blanked for a moment as I observed Nayana chewing on her lower lip, mulling over the implications.
Her mouth was the center of my undivided attention, and the irrational idea of replacing her teeth with my own first intrigued, then irritated me.
Straightening my head again, I dragged my eyes away from her and checked on Antas, who simply monitored our interaction.
“So the decision is if you listen to your grandfather or not?”
“Basically, yes.”
“If you ask me—”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know. Traveling to Galanta sounds dangerous.”
“Oh yes, very much so. My world isn’t an easy or safe place for a human to be these days. Most nobles only look down on your kind, but others are downright hostile. Nevertheless, no one would dare to lay even a single finger on you.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Of course I can. I simply won’t allow them.”
“That’s maybe true about your underlings, but what about the king?”
“Granted, he’s a special kind of evil. However, harming you isn’t in his interest. And yes, I hate him, but he’s predictable because everything boils down to his ambitions.
So, in his opinion, you have one thing going for you.
Your existence and our binding will have him convinced that he has even more power at hand. ”
“Because he’s controlling you? Why is that, by the way? It’s obvious you’d rather kill him than follow his orders. Not that I want to encourage your violent tendencies, I’m just curious.”
“Another day, Nayana.”
She clenched her fists in the fabric of her skirts, but I simply shrugged.
Nothing in the two worlds and beyond would make me open up about the fucking leash my grandfather held me on. That she sensed that such a thing existed in the first place was bad enough.
“Well then, riddle me this. Do you assume we can find out more about the Wild Rift situation in Galanta? More than in Ivreia?”
This was one of the core questions I and my soldiers had discussed to death, and I regarded Naya contemplatively, weighing my thoughts and words.
Antas answered quicker than I, though. “Most likely, yes.”