THE VISION AND THE MISSIVE #2
“You are his kin, and part of his council,” Elspeth said, gazing up at Breck and tilting her head. “Shall we look to you now for guidance?”
Breck stiffened.
I could tell just by looking at his face that he did not want the court to fall into his hands, regardless of how shitty it had been in Killian’s.
“Your cousin abandoned his throne. And we both know where he is now,” I reminded him.
The bastard had left thousands of innocents without a second thought.
He had gone to The Wastelands—to Lyceius.
I was sure of it. “The fae of this court know and respect you,” I continued. “Someone has to step in.”
Looking on the verge of overwhelm, he said, “This isn’t . . . I didn’t know Killian left—”
“We know you didn’t come here for this,” I cut him off. “But this”—I gestured to our surroundings—“is your task now. You have a duty, Breck, and we both know what’s coming.”
The Woodland Court would fall into chaos if war came and they weren’t ready. Too many innocent lives would be at risk without someone to lead them. But he knew all of that—his eyes confirmed it, though they flitted between mine nervously, searching for a way out of this.
“You have my support,” I said. “And I know you would have Auren’s.”
At the mention of her name, his shoulders lost a little of their tension, and he blinked, as if the motion would cast out every bit of self-doubt that was so blatantly written on his face.
“And you have mine,” Elspeth said. “You are a scholar as well. That alone will gain you certain favor with what remains of the fae of Old, and the rest of the court.”
“There is no time for a vote for power,” I said, looking down at the Elder. “War is coming.”
She shifted the items in her arms, but didn’t bat an eyelash at the threat. “I knew it would come again one day. Auren was the final chime of the clock. If war is soon to be upon the realms again, then we need leaders who are willing to fight alongside her.”
Silence ensued, thick and full of the weight of what was being thrown upon Breck.
I laid a hand on his shoulder and forced him to meet my eyes. “Elandrew needs someone at their command. Someone to ready the army and delegate orders to keep everyone safe.”
Finally, he gave a wobbly nod.
“But first, we need to get a message to the queen, as discussed.”
Another nod.
I hadn’t told him of the amulet, just that I needed to meet with Corinne. Given that the queen was a witch, she would hopefully be more inclined to answer my summons than the king would.
Elspeth looked between us, piecing together all that was being left unsaid. “I will spread the word for the others to look to you for guidance,” she said to Breck. “And you . . .” She stepped toward me. “Thank you for your help. I will make sure it is not forgotten.”
There was no time for a deeper discussion or planning. Sensing as much, Elspeth shuffled off, and Breck jerked his head toward the opposite end of the hallway, where a giant door awaited.
Behind the door sat a room, open to the elements, with billowing swaths of sheer, cream colored curtains that danced on the breeze.
Parchment stirred on the large, intricately carved wood tabletop that sat in the center of the space, held up by two twisting tree trunks whose branches twined around the edges.
On the same wall as the door, a map of the fae courts and the human realm hung like a tapestry from a gilded rod.
Elandrew’s green and white banners swayed in between the vine-wrapped pillars that separated the house from the outdoors.
Vases of flowers and spiraling ivy decorated every corner.
It’s a meeting room, I told myself, because if this was Elandrew’s war room, I would probably laugh myself right out of it.
Breck went straight to the table and dug through the documents that lay pinned down with painted stones, until he found a stack of blank sheets. He dipped a pen into an old inkwell and bent over the table. “Tell me what the missive needs to say.”
I braced my hands against the table’s smooth edge as I, too, leaned over it and spoke. “Address it to Queen Corinne. Tell her that the High Lord of Calledan wishes to speak with her regarding her realm’s safety. Tell her, the Bringer of Light and Silas sent me.”
Breck lifted his eyes to mine. “You sure about that?”
“She knew Auren fled here. And she knows Silas came here in search of her. Mentioning both of them should be enough to get her to accept.”
“Or she’ll think it’s a trap.”
I recalled what Silas said of the queen.
“No. She trusted Silas enough to tell him who she really was, knowing he wouldn’t tell just anyone at random.
I’m willing to bet she’ll want answers, and she’ll want to confirm who I am, and what I know.
Just keep it vague. It’s enough that a fae will be approaching The Veil in the first place.
That will raise more alarms than the message itself. ”
He nodded and began scrawling the message.
“Time and place?”
“Tomorrow, at dawn. The Veil. Tell her I’ll find her there.”
He dotted the end of the message, then waved it in the air to dry. “I’m going to have to compel the guards, you know. Otherwise they’ll take the message straight to the king and not the queen.”
“Do what you need to do.”
After checking the ink, he folded the parchment and reached for a small box across the table.
Inside was a block of green wax and a gold metal stamp with a wooden handle.
With a flick of his wrist, he lit what was left of a pillar candle on a silver tray.
He held the wax stick above the fluttering flame until it was bubbling and wet, then tipped the wax onto the letter.
He pressed the metal seal to it, stamping Elandrew’s crest into the wax. Then, he stared at it as it cooled.
“I don’t want this,” he said quietly—too quietly. “I wasn’t meant for this role.”
“You know, I’ve always heard stories about those who craved power and authority.
Some took it by force when the opportunity arose.
Some came into it through succession, and it corrupted them even further than they already were to begin with.
But in the end, those who wanted it and sought it out, brought about their own downfall. What does that tell you about ruling?”
Breck remained quiet, considering my question.
“Do you know what that tells me? It tells me that those who actively seek out power and authority are often the least fit to wield it. Your cousin was not suited to rule; he didn’t know how to lead.
He knew how to host a ball and get what he wanted through compulsion, not how to make important decisions when his territory relied on him.
He was a manipulator, a coward, and a liar.
That is not who you are, Breck. And despite our checkered past—though recent as it may have been—I respect you. ”
“Thank you.” He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. I knew he had already anticipated having to assume the role the moment Elspeth said Killian was gone. His heart, however, would need a little more convincing. And that would take time.
He straightened and pocketed the letter.
“I’ll head to The Veil. The guards switch patrols at sundown, so I’ll catch them as they’re swapping out.
” He paused. “You can, uh, make yourself at home while I’m gone.
Just . . . keep a glamour on. I’d hate for someone to see you wandering around by yourself and start spreading word that the High Lord of Calledan has taken over the Woodland Court. ”
“Now wouldn’t that be a fun little rumor?”
His nervous laugh filled the silent space, and he lingered where he stood, watching me warily, as if afraid to leave without hearing me promise I wouldn’t do something mischievous just for the hell of it.
“Trust goes both ways, Breck,” I said, lifting a brow as I slid my hands into my pockets.
The corner of his mouth twitched as he nodded. “Right.”