Chapter 46 Sariel
SARIEL
S ariel stepped into Isabelle’s tent. The sun had set, and candles burned in two separate tins on either side of the table. The queen leaned over her map, her weight braced upon the table.
“You summoned me?” he asked.
She looked up, and her expression was impossible for him to read.
“I have made my decision,” she said, careful to keep her tone flat.
He approached the table and set his sword down upon it. “And?”
She gestured to the map.
“We may suffer losses on the way, but even doing so, we will arrive with enough forces to take Racliffe. And so we shall march upon the capital.”
Sariel crossed his arms. “You go against my wisdom. You favor haste over caution.”
Isabelle tapped the table with her fingers, then clenched a fist and struck the wood.
“What I favor ,” she said, “is the trust of my soldiers. They follow me because they believe I am Leliel’s chosen.
They believe a goddess will grant us victory against all foes.
It is a tale I have carefully crafted and, until Twin Gates, never gave my believers any reason to doubt.
That faith is shaken, and I cannot risk weakening it further. ”
“You fear retreating, resupplying, and returning with caution will cast doubt upon your supposed divine backing,” Sariel said, having not considered the possibility.
“There is some merit to that, though consider the dangers of your current plan. We will march without any possibility of retreat. The minor forces that harry us, fearful to engage directly, will feel no such fear if we are broken upon Racliffe’s walls and limp back to your newly founded protectorate. ”
“Then it is imperative we do not retreat,” Isabelle said. “The Tower Majestic will fall. Mitra Gracegiver will face judgment for his crimes against Leliel. That is my order. Do you agree?”
Still she guarded her thoughts. He frowned at her, feeling something else amiss.
“Why am I here, Isabelle?”
The queen pushed away from the table. Her arms crossed over her chest as she paced. Strange. A hint of nervousness? Why?
“Something your brother said has been bothering me,” she admitted after a moment. “I would have your explanation.”
“And what is that?”
She turned. “He said if I knew who you were, who you truly were, I would not trust you.”
There. There it was. Her doubt. Her fear. He said nothing, only let his gaze linger. If she wanted the truth out of him, it must be earned.
She circled the table to stand before him. Her hand reached out, then paused, hovering in the air between them.
“Will you assuage my doubts, Sariel Godsight?” she asked. “Will you explain away the fears Faron’s words put into my breast?”
He took her arm by the wrist and held her as if she were his prisoner. Wisps of silver leaked from his eyes as he stared into hers.
“Will the tale change your course of action?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then why should I tell you?”
“Because I want to trust you,” she said. “More than anything. More than myself.”
Her touch was fire, her gaze electric. He released her wrist and retreated a step.
Different versions of her flashed through his mind.
Triumphant and enveloped in golden light during her coronation.
Naked and defiant as he held a blade to her neck.
Fearless as she demanded he serve despite his hand about her throat. Unstoppable. Unbreakable.
And so very beautiful.
“It is a long tale,” he said. “And much of it is unpleasant.”
“The night is young, and with how aflame my mind feels, sleep was never in my fate.” He noticed her left hand absently rubbing where he had held her wrist. “And I am used to a bit of unpleasantness.”
Sariel walked around the table to her bed, his own mind racing.
He had rarely told this story, and when he did, it was only to Isca, in the lifetimes where he deigned to trust her fully.
Sometimes, he was believed. Sometimes, he was dismissed as a madman.
He wondered which would be Isabelle’s reaction.
“I will speak only the truth to you,” he said as he sat on the edge of her bed.
“I will neither lie nor soften the cruelties my family and I committed. Whether or not you believe me, I ask that you let me finish, for there are a great many wonders and truths I must share. You will doubt, at first. I pray, by the end, you do not.”
“I am listening,” she said, sitting beside him on the bed, so close that their legs touched.
He closed his eyes and let the memories surface, both his and those of his family, whom he had questioned extensively to learn of what had transpired outside his presence.
This had been both his greatest accomplishment and his greatest failure.
In its wake, he had vowed to never walk in ignorance of who he was, or what he had done.
He opened his eyes and let Isabelle see the starlight within them.
“Then let us begin four centuries ago, at the birth of the Anaon Kingdom, and the prelude to the shattering.”