Chapter 7
MYRA
Laurince and Graeson’s anger whipped around the space, lashing out angrily.
Their rage drenched the council room and seeped into every surface.
It soaked into the grain of the floorboards, saturated the plush floral rug, and stained the glass windows.
As their emotions slithered across Myra’s limbs, she couldn’t help herself.
It was instinctual. She grabbed onto those threads—
Graeson’s iron-tipped gaze snapped to her in an instant. The gray hue of his irises shifted from pewter to liquid mercury.
Flinching, Myra released the threads. But she wasn’t quick enough.
Graeson’s fury was so bright it bled into her soul and poured down the string, hot to the touch, burning her from the inside out.
When she peered down at her trembling hands, she could have sworn her skin was pinker than it had been seconds before.
"You overstep, handmaiden," Graeson growled, his ire dripping and snaking around her neck.
"I—I didn’t mean—" She gulped, the rock in her throat nearly impossible to swallow.
She hadn’t intended to mess with Graeson’s emotions. She didn’t want to give anyone any more reason to hate her—they already had plenty. But it was second nature to soothe and calm. To deescalate a situation.
"This is why we cannot trust them," Graeson said, releasing Laurince and shoving him away. The captain’s back hit the wall with a smack. Graeson’s anger continued to ripple off him as he retreated.
"Can you blame the girl?" Queen Cetia asked.
Graeson’s lips curled, a snarl forming that was so inhuman it sent goosebumps running up Myra’s arms. "She has no boundaries."
"Your anger has no boundaries. Now sit," Cetia ordered.
Graeson’s nose twitched, but he fell back into his chair. He ran a hand down his face and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "If she is dead," Graeson whispered, "know there will be nowhere to hide."
Myra sent a silent prayer to the gods, begging for even an ounce of mercy. She did not wish for Lysanthia to die. She had tried to convince Lysanthia to come. But trying wasn’t enough she realized.
"I’d like to see you try."
Myra went rigid at Laurince’s threat.
With his hand hovering over his face and casting dark shadows across his features, Graeson cocked a brow at the captain. "What was that, pretty boy?"
"She’s not dead," Myra quickly said before Laurince could respond. She might not have been able to deescalate the situation by altering Graeson’s emotions, but she could at least distract him from Laurince’s blatant inability not to provoke him.
The moment Graeson turned his attention back to her, though, Myra regretted interfering.
"How would you know? You’re no longer there, now are you?"
Waves of hatred crashed into her at Graeson’s words.
Grappling for space to breathe, Myra struggled to stay afloat.
Her mother had always told her to look for a friendly face when the sea of emotions began to flood her system.
As a child, the rush of emotions had been so overwhelming it nearly paralyzed her.
Her throat would seize up, her hands would shake, and her legs would crumble beneath her.
But as she scanned the faces at the table, only strangers and the best friend whom she betrayed stared back.
Something brushed against her side.
Blinking, she looked down to see Laurince’s knuckles beside her hip.
She dragged her gaze up to meet his, and the captain offered her a reassuring smile.
Without thinking, she mentally reached for him.
Anger and hatred still spewed from him, but beneath those rancid emotions, she felt something else—something kind, something bright.
Even though it might have seemed like she was alone, she wasn’t. Not really.
She took a deep, albeit shaky, breath before finally answering Graeson. "Because she told us."
Graeson crossed his arms, the muscles straining against the cotton fabric. He mumbled something unintelligible, but she didn’t dare ask him to repeat himself.
Instead, Myra latched onto Laurince’s emotions and pushed forward. "I believe she wanted to stay because she knew something about the future that we are not privy to."
"Did Lysanthia happen to tell you this future?" Dani pressed, tapping her foot beneath the table.
Myra tried to recall the seer’s exact words, but recalling that night left a bitter taste in her mouth and a pang of sorrow pinched at the back of her eyes. Still, she had to try.
"She said…she said that she could do more if she stayed. That if things follow fate’s path, we would see each other again."
"Then that settles it," Kallie said, straightening. "We offer the trade: Graeson’s mother for me."
Myra balked. That was Kallie’s plan? To sacrifice herself in exchange for the seer?
"No," Graeson said gruffly, his fist curling atop the table. "We will find another way. We will not lose you again."
"Gray—" Kallie began, but Cetia cut her off.
"Graeson is right," the Queen said, demanding the attention of the entire room.
"This plan has been made in haste and without a careful analysis of all the pieces at play.
As Medenia has pointed out, Kalisandre has not used her ability since she has been here.
But not only that, the seer has clearly seen something that could very well be in our favor.
If we act imprudently, we may only make matters worse. "
Kallie’s frustration wafted off her, hitting Myra in the stomach. Myra sensed a disagreement coming, but Kallie sat back in her chair, defeat washing over her. Graeson’s entire body sagged in relief, as did Myra’s.
While her relationship with Kallie was still strained, Myra did not want Kallie to sacrifice herself. Domitius was too smart. He would see through whatever plan they came up with.
Rian shifted, the chains rattling as he took a step forward. "And what of the matter of our unjust imprisonment?"
Myra held back a groan.
First Laurince, and now the king? Did neither of them wish to leave this room alive?
"Unjust?" the white-haired Tetrian—Ellie, Myra recalled—said with a cocked brow. "You snuck into our queendom like thieves in the night and proceeded to make demands the moment you arrived here."
"Demands?" Rian hissed. "All we asked for was asylum."
Ellie huffed and flicked her hand in the air. "You are still alive, are you not?"
Myra’s gaze darted between the two. She had the urge to step in, to prevent the dispute from worsening. But what good had that done when she had interfered with Laurince and Graeson’s argument?
"That is your basis for refuge?" Rian implored, eyes wide. "What kind of hosts are you?"
"The kind that cannot help but see the coincidence in your arrival and Domitius' declaration!"
"Enough," Cetia demanded.
Ellie sunk back in her chair, although not before glaring at Rian.
"That matter is already settled," Cetia said, continuing.
"Tetria has always been a safe place for those in need, and it will continue to be one as we head into this war.
Due to the current situation, we will grant you asylum.
The three of you will no longer be viewed as prisoners.
Your rooms have already been prepared. However, for the protection of Tetria and those who reside here, my guards will keep a close eye on you during your stay. "
Myra’s shoulders sunk in relief, but she seemed to be the only one. Rian continued to glare at Ellie as the Tetrian offered him a saccharine smile. Meanwhile, remnants of anger still drifted off Laurince in waves. At least neither of them were vocalizing their contempt.
"With that out of the way," Cetia said, "let us move on to the matter that needs to be addressed with haste. As most of you are aware, Queen Esmeray has requested that the Pontians return to their home on the grounds of treason."
Myra’s eyes widened. She looked at the Pontians, but where she expected to find a semblance of fear wafting from them, she only found annoyance.
"Doesn’t the declaration change things?" Kallie asked.
Cetia tapped her long black nails along the table. "I cannot say. Esmeray is in her right to demand her people’s return."
Dani shifted, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin atop it. "Esmeray is as stubborn as all three of her children," she said, eyeing Kallie and Terin.
The pair pursed their lips, a disagreement forming. However, neither one had the chance to refute the claim before Dani continued.
"Esmeray will still want us to return home, and we should. While I do not believe she will deem us traitors, we need to be ready for the coming war. My soldiers need to be ready."
Terin opened his mouth, but Dani held up a hand. "Do not even say it," she said through her teeth.
"You don’t even know what I was going to say," Terin argued.
"That if a war is coming, I shouldn’t be leading the charge because of my condition."
Terin rubbed his neck. "I—I wouldn’t have said it like that, but…"
"I’m pregnant, Terin, not sick," Dani said, rolling her eyes. "I can still lead."
Myra’s mouth fell open. On instinct, she looked to Kallie for confirmation, and Kallie immediately met her gaze. For a moment, it was as if they were back in Ardentol, overhearing gossip. But unlike those times, a crash of grief smacked into Myra rather than surprise or joy.
"I never said you couldn’t," Terin stated. "I’m only trying to look out for you."
Dani hummed in disbelief. "The point is, it is in all of our best interests to return to Pontia."