Chapter Twenty Six
The Lorish King
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Blythtrie Bay, Loros.
Naal.
In the great hall of the Silver Palace, Naal sat at a table of edible extravagance and waited for the King of Loros to grace her with his presence.
She had, of course, expected this. Planned for it, even. It did not make the looming meeting appeal any more pleasant however, and the fact he was making her wait had already chipped away at her patience. Which was always thin where the Lorish King was involved.
The dead, blank eyes of a rather large tropical fish stared at her from the platter it lay on. She doubted very much if it had been killed in any kind of humane way, nor thanked for its contribution to the circle of life. Naal sent a silent prayer to Corla on the king’s behalf.
So much edible decadence in this palace, when it seemed Maressa and Selwyn could barely feed themselves.
‘Naal. Too long it has been,’ a familiar voice echoed through the hall like a viper’s hiss on the wind.
She stood, bowing her head. ‘Your Majesty.’
Clad in immaculate armour of the darkest blue, the Lorish King approached the banquet table.
A human servant rushed to pull back his chair for him to sit.
He did not acknowledge the young girl at all.
Instead, his arrogant eyes lingered obsessively on Naal’s face.
The left was a shade of murky blue, the right a silver light central to a metal contraption that stretched around to the back of his head.
A replacement for the eye he lost in battle many years ago.
‘So glad you could accompany me. I hope I did not interrupt your… reunion.’
‘You did,’ Naal replied bluntly. ‘But who am I to ignore the summons of His Grace?’
The king smirked. ‘Have we not known each other long enough for you to call me by my name?’
As he sat, Naal did too. ‘You are a king. I will address you as such.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘How courteous of you. Though, I prefer my friends to call me by my name. Are we not friends, Naal?’
‘That depends,’ Naal said before thanking a servant for handing her a napkin, ‘on the manner of this meeting.’
‘Wine,’ the king barked at the young servant girl.
She rushed to fulfil his needs, pouring a hefty serving of wine into his chalice.
He ignored Naal’s last comment and instead gestured to the excessive amounts of food that ran down the centre of the table.
‘Do eat. The red snapper is a favourite of mine.’
‘Thank you, but I am not hungry.’
‘Wine, then,’ he said, motioning for the servant girl to fill Naal’s chalice too, but Naal put a hand over the top of it. The Lorish King narrowed his eyes. ‘Is my wine not good enough for you?’
‘I prefer to keep my mind free from fog, if it pleases you.’
The king took a long sip, swallowed, then said, ‘You have always been better than the rest of us.’ Naal did not smile at the bitter, backhanded compliment.
He watched her again, his silver eye contracting in and out.
‘Where are those lovely wings of yours? I hope you do not feel you have to hide them in Loros.’
‘I hide them because sometimes it is a relief to be unseen,’ Naal said truthfully.
‘But why,’ the king said, swilling his wine around his chalice and watching the liquid’s circular movement, ‘would you want to be unseen? You have always been welcome here. Unless, of course, you yourself are hiding something?’
Naal did not break under his sharp stare. ‘I hide nothing, Your Grace. I am merely here to console Maressa and Selwyn on the loss of their sons.’
The king paused. ‘You are a little late, are you not? Three years have passed.’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘Regardless, the Water Warden is not dead. Another would have been chosen if he were.’
‘No, he is not dead. But he is lost, and that does not nullify his parents’ grief.’
‘Lost,’ the king repeated. ‘Or abandoning his duty to the crown?’
‘If the crown cannot operate without extorting the powers of the Water Warden, perhaps the system is more vulnerable than you believe.’
All remnants of a smirk wiped from the king’s face. Naal felt a rush of pride that she had gotten under his skin. He put his goblet down. ‘Yes… perhaps you are right. After all, you would know all about vulnerable cities.’
That pride was punctured, and the smugness drained almost instantly. No more would she evade the inevitable. ‘What do you want?’
‘I want to know where he is,’ the king hissed, all forced niceties forgotten.
‘I do not know Kano’s whereabouts,’ Naal said coldly. ‘And even if I did, I would not tell you. My loyalty lies with him, not you.’
‘You are meddling in Lorish affairs again, Naal,’ the king warned.
‘And you have meddled in Warden affairs for far too long,’ Naal said in a low voice.
‘You know my stance on this matter. Hundreds of years later and my opinion on how you treat Corla’s protegee remains unchanged.
Dare I say it, but young Kano had more bravery than most to escape his servitude to you.
’ To her surprise, the king laughed, though it was humourless. ‘Is something amusing?’
‘Your entitlement over Droria has always astounded me,’ he sneered. ‘Had you accepted my offer all those years ago, I might be inclined to hear your grievances with a little more empathy. Two leaders of two great empires, united. We could have been unstoppable, you and I.’
‘Nythanor is the realm of the free, this you know. I do not lead the north, only oversee its wellbeing,’ Naal reminded him.
‘Yet you swan about this world as though you own everything.’ The king leaned forward. ‘I know the real reason you are here, Naal. This pretence for your visit is perfectly timed, and frankly, not at all convincing.’
‘Then let us speak plainly,’ Naal said coolly.
‘Leave us,’ the king commanded his servants with two clicks of his fingers, his narrowed eyes glued to Naal’s face. They obeyed instantly, curtseying and bowing, then they were gone, leaving just the two of them alone. ‘You want an alliance.’
Naal hated how astute he could be. ‘I know you and I have never truly seen eye to eye, Therion. But our world is changing. Empress Azar’s attack on Phaenon was just the beginning.
I am here to ensure that when the time comes, Nythanor will not be fighting the might of Zarynth’s armies alone.
Let us put aside our conflict and unite against her. ’
The king was quiet, his hands linked over his stomach as he surveyed her. ‘Interesting how you should use my name when begging for help. Are we friends only when you seek my aid?’
‘The use of your name in this instance was intended, Therion.’
He smiled. ‘Ah, but if only it were used in a more intimate setting.’
Naal warned, ‘I grew tired of your advances a long time ago. One might have thought that a refused proposal would have been enough to dissuade you.’
King Therion barked a laugh. ‘You are the only female to reject me in six hundred years. Forgive me for enjoying the challenge.’
Anger flared in Naal’s heart. ‘For it to be a challenge, there would need to be a chance in the first place. Regardless, females are not playthings meant for your pleasure.’
‘You wound me, Naal. I have the utmost respect for my lovers. You would know that, had you accepted-’
‘I doubt it, Therion,’ Naal swiftly cut him off. ‘But we digress. Can Nythanor count on Loros’ military, both land and fleet, when the time comes?’
Therion picked up his wine and took a deliberately long, thoughtful sip.
He mocked her by taking his time, but Naal kept her mouth firmly shut and waited with ever-waning patience.
The chalice settled back on the table. ‘I assume that finding the Astaveron boy is also on your agenda whilst in Loros?’
Naal paused before admitting the truth. ‘It is.’
Therion nodded slowly. ‘If I consent to this alliance, I want him back in my service. And you will never voice your opinion on the matter again.’
Naal’s jaw tightened. ‘That decision is not mine to make, Therion. If Kano chooses to serve you again of his own volition, so be it. But I will never condone the slavery of a Warden.’
Therion rose from his chair. ‘Then there will be no alliance and I wish you the best of luck in the wars to come.’
The pot of simmering frustration boiled over as Naal slammed her hand on the table. ‘You would doom the world to fire for your own selfish power? Azar is dangerous, far more than you realise.’
‘The Empress is little more than a child compared to you and I, Naal,’ said Therion indifferently. ‘Let her have this little war. She will not last long.’
‘You are a fool if you believe that age equals power,’ Naal cautioned. ‘The cogs of war are already in motion. Phaenon city is decimated. If you could see the devastation, you would understand-’
‘With all due respect, Naal, had you been present at the time of the Fire Warden’s attack, your people would not have suffered,’ Therion boldly stated.
Naal’s blood went cold. ‘You failed to protect them, instead doing what you do best, sticking your mighty nose into situations that do not concern you.’ He smiled then, picking up his goblet.
‘How is the young Earth Warden, by the way? Do extend my congratulations… what a Goddess-sent miracle she is, I am sure you will agree.’
Naal could not remember the last time she had felt so angry.
All she could do was glower at the king, seething yet silent, for the fight in her was fading with every word that escaped his arrogant mouth.
Because part of her, the relentless, guilty part that still had its phantom grip around her heart, knew he was right.
Therion’s real eye glinted with warning. ‘Nothing happens in Blythtrie without my knowledge, Naal.’