Chapter 55 #2
“I do not assume so. Placing you there would undermine Dion, as you are his potential intended, which ironically would enfeeble Galrach himself.”
My stomach was churning. Lately, my anxiety was running in overdrive, but was my panic a surprise in this situation?
The palace’s hostile environment, along with everyone around me being stronger, faster, and more beautiful than I was, sapped my defenses.
And although I hated to admit as much, that Dion wasn’t near me was the opposite of reassuring.
So much for being independent and able to stand up for myself.
“Before we came to Galanta, I’d speculated a lot about how Galrach would react to me as Dion’s Amplifier, but I’d never suspected him of showing so much hostility right from the beginning.
Isn’t his ultimate weapon being as powerful as possible in his best interest?
Especially since Dion can’t attack him, no matter what. ”
“Generally speaking, you are completely correct. But you have experienced how my nephew is changing. He is slipping out of Galrach’s control, and the High King is anything but asinine.
He is aware of what kind of loose cannon would be unleashed if his heir broke his chains, something my brother simply cannot afford.
And then there is a theory I came up with. ”
“What theory?”
“I believe Galrach plotted to close the portals between our worlds in the first place, because he did not want any more bindings to form.”
“But why?”
“Because then, gods forbid, Wielder outside his influence could become more potent than himself.”
“And that’s why he waged war on Ivreia and had Amalach obliterated?”
“I strongly presume so. The period after he had declared himself High King was highly volatile. Dion had just started to gain the reputation he has now, and the nobles were not that afraid of him yet, although he had been the driving factor in the violent and bloody unification of Galanta’s countries.
With circumstances so uncertain, Galrach simply could not risk one or more powerful Wielder standing up and revolting. ”
“But he couldn’t find an Amplifier for himself with the portals unusable.”
“That did not matter to him.”
“Oh? Why? Did he lose one already?”
“Not exactly. He failed the rite.”
My eyes widened as I understood the implications behind Antas’ words.
Back when I’d considered whether to agree to the ceremony or not, I’d learned that the Rite of Binding couldn’t be forced, that our divinity would refuse to gift their magic, and that the aggressor could never attempt to bind again or even use any unbound Potential.
Bile climbed up my throat as I pondered what fate must have awaited the poor human in question. Them having survived the fallout of an unsuccessful ceremony was highly unlikely. “Galrach tried to force the binding.”
“Yes, he had searched long for an earth Amplifier with exceptionally deep Potential. But instead of being nice and accommodating, he—well, he acted horrendously.”
“Honestly, I’m not surprised. What happened?”
“Galrach—”
Antas was interrupted by the chimes singing their melody. Without anyone granting permission, the door opened, and with horror, I observed Danartha sauntering in as if she were at home in Dion’s quarters.
She wore a sneer on her face, not unlike the one my mother had always exhibited whenever she’d been unhappy with me. Unveiled hatred emanated from the female, who scowled at me.
But when she noticed Antas, her features softened with fake friendliness, allowing her beauty to shine through, and she dropped into a curtsy. “Lord Fiantas. I haven’t expected to meet you here.”
Lord? Oh my, Antas had an honorific as well? It made sense, but observing Antas’ sour expression, he wasn’t fond of his title too, not even a little.
“Lady Danartha, I informed Nayana about the arrangements my brother made for her.”
“Oh, a servant would have been sufficient. Surely, someone as significant as you has better things to do.”
“No.”
Antas’ tone could have frozen the Restless Desert, and his following declaration ignited an inferno of emotions inside my soul.
“I consider Nayana my daughter. She is not only important to my nephew but also to me.”
Fighting hard to prevent my eyes from leaking, I pinched my own arm discreetly. So often had I wondered how my life would have been different if my own father had been more like Antas, and now this fae male had declared me as his honorary offspring.
And from the warmth he regarded me with, he hadn’t only claimed this as a pretense to rile Danartha up, who glared at me as if I’d eaten her pet for breakfast.
No, he’d meant every word.
Fuck our hostile spectator. I jumped out of my chair as if I were compelled, hurried over to Antas with big strides, and hugged him, burying my face in his silky tunic.
Last time I’d embraced him—when he’d given me an heirloom as a present, one I lost to Feroy and missed dearly—he’d tensed. This time, though, he enveloped me in his arms as if this were the most natural thing to do.
“Thank you, Antas. That means the world—no, both worlds—to me.”
“Just the truth, little one. And nothing will change my mind, no matter if you say yes or no to Dion’s courting.”
“Very touching. But I have to get that ready for the ball now, so if you excuse us, Lord Fiantas?”
Antas let go of me and spun to Danartha. “Green is not a good color on you, Lady Danartha. Harm Nayana, and my brother backing you up will not save you. You will be in trouble, not only with Dion but also with me.”
He flashed his teeth at her, and I couldn’t quite digest the aggressive display so unlike him. Seeing Antas all territorial was something else entirely.
“Lord Fiantas, that you suspect I’d stoop so low and commit an untoward act pains me. Of course, the Eachtrannach will appear well dressed, unharmed, and on time at the ball.”
“Good.” He turned around again, hugged me another time, and reluctantly left.
Taking a deep breath, I faced the fae female, who loathed me just as much as I despised her.
Gathering all my fake friendliness, I forced a smile. “Thank you, Lady Danartha, for agreeing to help me.”
“Ah, stop the pretense, Eachtrannach. Get dressed. We have to chat. Or more, I’ll talk, you’ll listen.”
Of course. I would have been a fool to believe otherwise.