Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
REIYANA
T he seating arrangement beneath the shaded canopy was a silent declaration of hierarchy. King Azarion sat at the head of the table. To his right, Reiya had been placed as the highest-ranking woman in attendance, a position that should signify not merely favour, but authority.
Across from her, seated at the king’s left, was Anna?s.
Even without a word exchanged between them, the message was clear: the court saw them not just as women at the king’s table, but as forces vying for position.
Lady Neda had been seated further down the table. She was favoured by the king, yet kept apart—a reminder that, while influence could be cultivated, her modest birth and Beta status ensured certain barriers remained unbroken.
The conversation began with pleasantries, the kind designed to fill the air rather than impart true meaning. There was talk of the oasis and its bounty, of trade routes prospering under the king’s rule, and of the villages thriving in the season’s warmth.
But Reiya had been in her father’s court long enough to recognize when a shift was coming, and it came with practiced precision.
“I was reflecting earlier, Your Majesty,” Anna?s said, tilting her head toward the king, “on the drought plaguing the northern settlements. Forgive me for being bold and ask plainly, but I wondered if progress has been made toward a solution?”
Reiya’s focus sharpened as the words left Anna?s’s lips, the question cloaked in concern yet heavy with intent. She chose her subject well.
Politics, not flattery.
“You are very well informed on matters of state, Lady Anna?s,” the king intoned, his golden eyes assessing her as she blushed prettily under his gaze. “Your father’s influence, no doubt.”
Anna?s allowed a modest smile. “I am only a humble observer, Your Majesty. A strong kingdom begins in its roots, after all.”
Reiya caught the flicker of amusement in Hassamir’s expression as he lifted his goblet in an almost imperceptible toast to his daughter’s performance.
The king nodded. “We are discussing long-term strategies. Prince Kaelendrin has made some compelling suggestions to expand our new aqueduct.”
Anna?s turned toward Kaelen, a look of faint admiration settling on her features. “You continue to surprise us all, my prince. Your recent . . . attentiveness has not gone unnoticed.”
Kaelen inclined his head, his tone dry. “A prince must earn his place, Lady Anna?s. As we all must.”
Reiya suddenly found herself the centre of the woman’s attention. “What do you think of our kingdom’s issue, Princess Reiyana? I am sure a daughter of the sea has seen innovations we cannot yet imagine. Please, enlighten us.”
It was a question wrapped in flattery, but Reiya recognized the snare. If she played it safe, she would be dismissed. If she overstepped, she would be criticized.
“Indeed,” she replied smoothly, setting her goblet down. “As you know, Aethonia is an island kingdom surrounded by the ocean. Freshwater is our most precious resource, and we have long learned to make use of every drop.”
The king leaned forward slightly. “How does your father’s court manage it?”
She recalled the suggestions she’d offered at her father’s council— how the men had smiled, nodded politely, then turned to one another to change the subject, only to later adopt her ideas without a word of credit.
“We use a combination of methods, Your Majesty. Rain catchments built into our rooftops funnel water into underground cisterns, ensuring each household has reserves through the dry months. For farming, we rely on stone-lined channels and buried clay vessels to carry water directly to the roots, wasting as little as possible.”
A murmur of approval rippled through the courtiers. Several advisors leaned in, their interest piqued.
“Aethonia has also begun experimenting with seawater distillation—evaporating it and collecting the condensed vapour as freshwater. It’s laborious and demands more fuel and materials than we’ve perfected, but even in small amounts, it provides clean drinking water to coastal settlements.”
King Azarion’s brows lifted. “Seawater distillation . . . intriguing. And you believe such methods could be adapted for Asadia?”
“Not all, but some. Rain catchments could be added to smaller settlements to store precious rainfall, and underground cisterns could supplement your aqueducts. As for irrigation, I trust Asadia’s farmers are already skilled innovators.
With the right investment, they may transform water use across the north. ”
Anna?s smiled, her voice still honey-smooth but edged with something sharper. “An impressive approach, Princess. It seems Aethonia values innovation above all.”
Reiya returned the gaze. “Innovation is born of necessity. And the desert teaches that well, does it not?”
King Azarion chuckled softly, a note of approval threading through his voice. “A wise observation. The desert does teach us—harshly, at times—but those who endure become stronger for it.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Reiya caught Kaelen’s faint smirk, his golden gaze filled with something that looked like pride. He gave her a subtle wink, while Alarik remained silent, though the gleam in his eyes and the faint press of his lips suggested he was holding back amusement.
As the meal continued, Reiya’s thoughts turned inward .
Anna?s’s flirtation with the king earlier hadn’t gone unnoticed, but now, she wondered if it was part of something larger. If she and Hassamir had failed to secure the throne through Kaelen and Alarik, were they carving another path?
King Azarion had fathered three children from three different mothers, but he hadn’t remarried. His Omega queen had passed on, yet no Beta consort ever rose to power—not Alarik’s mother, not Lady Neda.
Would an Omega in her prime change that?
Anna?s was young, beautiful, nubile, and could very well provide the king with more children—Sunborn and Moonfire children.
If Anna?s succeeded in turning the king’s attention toward her, it would secure House Mezerin’s power for generations.
Hassamir could influence the council to push the king to consider remarrying.
All for the glory of Asadia, of course.
She pushed her food around her plate, letting the quiet hum of conversation wash over her as she considered the possibilities.
The queen’s throne seemed to make sense as a goal, but something about Anna?s’s past with Kaelen and Alarik—the way she played one brother against the other rather than focusing her attention on the heir apparent—perturbed her.
What was their true plan?
Her gaze drifted across the table to Anna?s, seated with flawless poise—though notably closer to the king than propriety dictated.
She laughed softly at something he said, tracing the rim of her goblet with a slow, practiced grace.
When she tucked a curl behind her ear, her hand lingered at the curve of her neck, drawing subtle attention to the delicate line of her collarbone.
Reiya recognized the choreography. Each glance, each measured smile, was placed with precision—every touch of skin to hair, every shift of posture designed not to entertain but to captivate.
Anna?s wasn’t simply speaking to the king.
She was seducing him.
But for all her sweetness, Reiya doubted the woman was careless. She wielded her charm with the precision of a blade, turning it toward whomever she wished to ensnare .
“Are you not eating, Princess?”
Anna?s’s voice broke through Reiya’s thoughts—a shard of glass, smooth yet pointed at the end. The quiet hum of conversation around the table softened as eyes turned toward them again.
Anna?s tilted her head, the silver embroidery of her veil shimmering with the movement. “Asadian cuisine does not suit you, perhaps?”
Reiya met her gaze evenly, offering a slow, faint smile. “The food is lovely, Lady Anna?s, but I find the company far more nourishing.”
A ripple of laughter stirred through the gathering. Even the king’s lips curved in amusement. A few seats away, Kaelen murmured something low to Alarik, shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth.
Anna?s’s expression didn’t falter, but Reiya caught the fractional narrowing of her eyes before she, too, chuckled along with the others.
“Well said, Princess. I imagine you learned the art of conversation in Aethonia’s court.”
“It is a necessary skill when one must navigate both sea and storm.”
“Do you miss it? The sea? The familiar halls of your home?”
“Of course. It’s where I was shaped. But we aren’t meant to remain in one place forever. Aethonia taught me much, but Asadia . . .” She turned toward the king. “Asadia is teaching me what it means to build a future—not just for myself, but for those I will stand beside.”
A murmur of approval passed through the table. This time, the king himself raised his goblet to her, his expression warm with satisfaction.
Anna?s, however, wasn’t so easily moved.
“Wise words,” she murmured, reaching for her own goblet. She swirled the wine within, the movement languid, deliberate. “It seems you’ve already grown comfortable in your place here.”
Reiya inclined her head, presenting a picture of composed politeness. “I find it best not to mistake readiness for comfort, my lady.”
The shift in Anna?s’s expression was nearly imperceptible—the slightest tightness at the corners of her mouth, the flicker of a challenge behind dark eyes. For all her mastery of courtly games, she wasn’t accustomed to being parried.
The king cleared his throat, cutting through the quiet tension. “ You are both well-spoken ladies, and I have no doubt the court will find many occasions to benefit from your insights.”
His gaze lingered on Anna?s a fraction longer than necessary before settling on Reiya. “It is good to see such harmony among Asadia’s finest.”
Reiya lowered her lashes in a measured nod.
Harmony . She didn’t believe it for a moment.
Anna?s was far from finished. Whatever her game was, she played it with purpose.