Chapter 30 Eveera
Eveera
Judging by the faces of everyone, my little demonstration wasn’t well-received, and I sigh. "You all can stop your whinging, the threat to you has been removed."
Caz scoffs, "I'm not sure that it has."
"Was there a point to your sadism, your Majesty?" King Eloden quips.
Sadism… I’m flattered. "The scales of battle are easily tipped, and the element of surprise is pivotal to coming out as the victor.
I think we all know that. Baelor and Eiser used that to their advantage in the second Battle of Vellar a few months ago—" I choke out, steeling my voice against the quiver that threatens to come out, "and now with my…
newfound capabilities, we have our own advantage.
" Mousy clears his throat, gaining all of our attention, no matter how little I wanted to give it. "Yes?"
"So your suggestion is for us to march on the field with a…" his arms flail around as he searches for the right words, "brigade of undead soldiers?"
"No, of course not."
His forehead creases together in confusion, "I don't follow."
That's not surprising. I think, annoyed. "I'll be raising them during battle." My stare locks onto Max's, my voice hitching in my throat again, "there's… nothing more horrible than coming face to face with a creature wearing the mask of your family."
"You intend to raise and Wield an entire battlefield of soldiers to gain the upper hand?" Eloden asks.
I dip my chin in response to his question when I see Max's head cock to the side, "but it won't just be their fallen soldiers that you raise…" he mutters, and my stomach plummets.
"No — it won't."
The muscle in his jaw ticks, and I can see the faintest amount of electricity flickering inside his clenched palms. "So this is what you've been doing out there?
" My lips part, wanting to give him a good answer, but nothing comes out.
"And instead of eradicating the beasts as usual, you've been… training them?"
"Ah— manipulating would be more accurate."
He scoffs, "because that's better."
"Max." Rorin snaps, and my guard redirects his glare over at him.
"That's great, Evie." He grumbles, stomping off in a huff.
I spin on my heel, feeling a pull to run after him, "Maxwell!"
Armond's hand slams into my chest, stopping my pursuit. "I'll go, you stay."
Be queen — he means. Queens don't chase after their guards, no matter what they've been through together.
"I still don't see what this has to do with us?" The General pipes up.
I suck in a sharp breath, the scars running along my skin beginning to itch as my emotions run high, and the exhaustion from Wielding so intensely sets in. "I have a proposition for each of you — one that will have a result we all will appreciate. But it will only work if you all agree."
We opted to regroup over dinner rather than in the council room. A relief to me, because I'd be lying if I didn't say I was getting sick of seeing that particular set of walls.
"And here I was sure I'd made that place one of your most favorite rooms to be in."
Rorin. Damn seal. I think bitterly, pushing on his presence in my head. "Forgiven me already?"
He throws me a less-than-enthused look, "not even close."
Once everyone's settled, Felix claps his hands together twice to grab their attention and gives me a look to reopen the discussion.
"Obsidian has had a symbiotic relationship for several years with the clans in the Vast, one that has never had to be tested until we marched into Valen. That decision,” I pause, “ led to regrettable losses. "
The room, growing solemn, gives me a moment to regroup before continuing, "but war has losses, and I do not see that as a reason to end agreements we've been maintaining for the better part of a decade.
" I face the three clan leaders fully, "unless you think this relationship no longer benefits you. "
The Orik Chief let out a low growl, but nobody objected outright.
"Right," my head swivels around the opposite way to look towards the General, Caz, and King Eloden.
"That brings me to you three. King Eloden, while you may not appreciate what my…
husband… did while a guest in your kingdom, the fact is you still need us. "
“E-excuse me?" He sputters. "How do you gather that, your Majesty?"
"As I mentioned earlier, you seem to have a pest control issue at your borders."
"Your point?"
I grind my teeth together, preparing myself to throw away the last of my vows of things I would never do after my parents were executed.
"Obsid’s are the best in skill — there's no question.
Hadar has brute force, sure, and at the moment — size — but they're nothing compared to what my militia can do.
My father, King Killian, believed it to be the best 'trade' option we had.
" His brows lift slightly, listening, "which leads me to my point.
You need powerful soldiers at your borders, and I have them. "
"But if you defeat Baelor and Eiser, then we won't have a threat at our borders anymore — and I'll most assuredly have lost valuable soldiers in the battle you have planned for the pair of tyrant kings."
"There's always a threat at the border. Even with the tyrant kings gone, there will come another — and you wouldn't want to be caught in a position that results in you losing your kingdom now, would you?
" His eyes narrow, but he has no rebuttal.
"I thought so. Which brings me to our final proposition — for you, General Imir. "
Where Caz looks cautious, the man chewing loudly next to him looks intrigued as I bring the conversation over to him. "I'm not sure we have much to interest you with. Our humble republic has no Wields to aid your pursuit, nor are we the most battle experienced — we're tradesmen."
"Exactly. I don't want or need your battle experience."
"I'm not sure I follow."
"That seems to be the pattern today,” I mutter under my breath, only Rorin catching the biting remark. He kicks at my foot, and I clear my throat, “I want access to the alloy you've developed."
Caz chokes on his bite, erupting into a loud coughing fit at the end of the table, while Imir levels a heavy glare on his companion before plastering a fake smile across his bronze skin.
"Ah — I see, and what good would that do you?"
"I want to use it to create new weapons and new armor. Reinforced weapons and armor. It will be hard for Hadar's Guards to tear through my army if they can't land a damaging blow."
He sucks his teeth and runs his tongue across the edge of his lip. "That's a bold ask, Queen Eveera."
My head cocks to the side, fork spinning between my fingers.
The heavy weight of Rorin's arm falls across the back of my chair, and from the corner of my eye, I see him take a long drink out of his goblet. He’s doing his best impression of looking aloof, as if he knew this was my plan all along and not like it's the first time he's heard it.
"I think it's the least you can do to make up for my less-than-savory experience while on your lands."
Caz — now no longer choking on a piece of meat — looks accusatory at me. "You can hardly blame the entire Consulate for that."
I shrug, "the price would be much worse had I died on your lands, I assure you." Rorin tenses at the suggestion, his hand clenching the wood back of my chair as he takes another languid sip, and I place a hand on his knee.
"Say I agree, that would make up for your experiences?" I nod, and to my shock, his fake smile turns into an unsettling one that shows all of his teeth. "Then what do I get your Majesty, for my unsavory experience on your lands?"
"Careful." Rorin growls, and the General laughs.
I bring my goblet up to my lips and sip, letting the bitter liquid burn down into my stomach. "What is it you want?"
"You've got quite the pet, your dragon."
"My drag—" Alarm bells sound in my head as the general cuts me off.
"I'd thought they'd gone extinct. I'm thrilled to discover I was wrong."
Get on with it. I think anxiously. Ask your bleeding fucking request.
"That should suffice, I think."
"What should?" The question comes out slow, my Wield buzzing at my fingertips.
"Your dragon for my alloy."
Your dragon for my alloy.
Of all the things I could have imagined him requesting, Vada was not on the list. I smothered any laughter that bubbled up by downing the rest of my drink, and when that was no longer enough, I left the table, leaving the rest of them to stare at each other and finish their meal in awkward silence.
He wanted her as if she or I would ever let that happen. Unless…
"What are you planning up in that brain of yours?"
I jump at the voice and turn to see Axel falling into step next to me. "What are you doing here?"
He elbows my bicep, knocking me off kilter as I walk. "I told you I was in more places than the horrors of your mind. Didn’t believe me? I’m shocked. And hurt. I’m shocked and hurt."
I roll my eyes at his pitiful pout and elbow him back, "I didn't realize that meant my hallway."
He shrugs. "So where are we headed?"
"A different place of horrors," I grumble as we round the corner. Within a few wide steps, we're outside the doors to Pruella's room.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
"E?"
"Shh." I hiss as the door creaks open.
Pruella peers her head out, her expression falling when she sees me.
"This is unexpected," Axel mutters, and I shove off the urge to roll my eyes again.
"I already told Rorin everything I could about my father's tactics, and I'm not up for repeating. You'll have to get it from him—"
She starts to push her door closed, and my hand flies out, stopping the momentum. "Shut up and follow me."
"E-excuse me?"
"It wasn't a suggestion, let's go."