Chapter 5
Chapter five
HE IS NO KING
Amira
It was the first morning I was able to have breakfast with Riordan since the Wild Hunt came to the Vale, and I had missed it immensely.
I knew there were important things we had to discuss, but after a night of passion, we were both content to share such a leisurely morning.
He had barely stopped touching me from the moment we grudgingly crawled out of bed to get dressed.
His hand stayed on my thigh mostly, but he would sometimes squeeze my fingers or lift them up to his lips for a kiss while we ate.
I intentionally kept the conversation as lighthearted as I could, asking him every inane question I had been compiling these last few weeks.
Silly curiosities that had felt too inconsequential to ask in light of our responsibilities.
It felt very much like those early days of our relationship when we could simply take joy from one another’s presence.
Before he became king and I devoted myself to him and his kingdom.
But some time between asking if he’d object to me keeping one of his gorgeous griffin feathers and what age griffins shifted at for the first time, we both grew sombre. Reality seemed to settle on us at the same time.
Riordan shifted forward, taking my hand again to lift it to his lips as if to signal that the frivolity of our morning had come to an end.
“You have something to pass along from the council,” he recalled, and I nodded in reluctance.
I gave him the gist of the painfully repetitive meetings, including the demand from Stamos for weapons we could use to repel Rian, and Riordan listened intently. He made no attempt to interrupt me, but I noticed the slight smile as it began to curl the corners of his full lips.
“What?” I demanded.
“Nothing,” he assured me quickly, shaking his head as if dispelling his thoughts. “I simply enjoy your passion.”
“The meetings are boring, Riordan,” I deadpanned.
“Be that as it may, you are still passionate about them. Perhaps you have even found your place here,” he added significantly, his brows rising at me.
“But I thought you only wanted me to take your place until you were done mending the Vale?” I reminded him, and then I gasped. “You are pawning them off on me!”
Riordan laughed and lifted my hand for another kiss on my knuckles. “I will not lie and tell you that I desire to return to the council meetings. Are you really going to try and tell me that, in spite of the aggravation, you do not feel like a positive force in that chamber?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but I hesitated because he was right.
Despite the annoyance of the last few days as we focused on rehashing Rian’s attack, I loved being able to make people’s lives better.
And if Riordan was saying what I thought he was, then he might give me full power to do it in that council chamber.
“I did not think so,” he smirked, and I rolled my eyes. But his point reminded me of what Castor said about how my mate chose me to complement his weaknesses rather than his strengths.
“There is one final thing I need to relay,” I told him, rising to walk to my desk where I retrieved the missive Dio had received and gave it to my mate. Riordan read it, and his brows condensed with growing concern.
“So they are now deliberately interfering with trade,” he observed after a moment.
“Yes, that is exactly what I—”
I cut myself off, shaking my head. Stamos could shove his condescension up his own ass.
“Yes, I think that is certainly a possibility. There are some on the council who do not believe the Fuath—”
“You can just say Stamos,” Riordan assured me.
“Stamos,” I growled, “does not believe Fuath possess the necessary faculties to stage such a deliberate attack. However,” I added, wincing because I knew how Riordan would react to what I told him next. “Castor approached me after the meeting—”
“Was he unkind to you? Ares did not say anything,” Riordan interrupted me worriedly.
“He was not unkind. He just shared some concerns.”
“Concerns?” he repeated. His brow furrowed again but this time in confusion.
“You know Castor is renowned for his spy network, but he says the network in Erétria is… reporting back to him less and less. And what is reported is worrisome.”
Riordan had an immaculate poker face, an ability that was unlike anything I’d ever seen. He could hear an insult and not flinch. He could be told the worst news and not even blink in surprise at it.
Which was how I knew he knew something that I did not when that flat affect slid into place over his authentic expression. I was no longer talking to my mate but to the King of the Vale.
“You know something,” I breathed, unable to decide how to feel about the fact that such seemingly important information was being withheld from me.
“Amira, I knew Castor and co-conspirators may come sniffing for information. I did not want to give them any indication we are aware of their schemes,” Riordan tried to explain himself. “I love you, my darling, but you are still learning to control your expressions.”
I bit my tongue before I could retort because I knew he was right.
I could be offended all I wanted, but this was bigger than me.
The security of the Kingdom of the Vale was at stake, Riordan’s position as the king was at stake, so my bruised ego would simply need to take a back seat.
Besides, it made so much more sense that Castor targeted me as the weakest link in Riordan’s inner circle.
I saw all his pretty words about how I was much more competent at politics than Riordan for the divisive poison they were.
And I tried not to let it sting too much.
“Fine. I’ll tell you what he told me and you can decide what to do with the information,” I suggested.
“Amira—”
“I understand. I really do,” I reassured him seriously. “It would be unreasonable to expect to be told anything that could put the kingdom at risk.”
Riordan was apologetic, but I ignored it.
“He just said that there have been a lot of deaths in the City-State and none of them are being reported. He was unsure if it is related to the Fuath but was not willing to discount it. He said I should not trust anyone.”
Riordan merely nodded, his poker face still in place so there was nothing to glean from his reaction.
“He could be the one behind the misreporting, and he wanted to see if I knew about it. That is why he brought this to me and not to you. He was hoping I would reveal something about what you know,” I guessed, but Riordan gave away nothing as I made several more connections.
“Is this why you haven’t been concerned that your father has not returned? He is your ears and eyes in Erétria!”
“Amira,” he said softly, but with warning in his voice. “It is safer if you do not know the specifics.”
There was some part of me that still objected to being left in the dark, but I was determined to prioritize his kingdom over my own ego. He was the only person I had ever trusted implicitly, so I would trust this decision.
“You can make it up to me,” I told him.
“Oh?” he asked, an eyebrow rising with intrigue as he trailed those gorgeous golden eyes over me.
“Not like that,” I laughed and rolled my eyes at him with a pleased smirk as I stood and walked to my desk. “You are going to let me write back to Ornella.”
“Thank you for agreeing to this,” I said to the two men on either side of me. Although I could not tear my eyes from all the Spring fey sitting in the cells we walked past.
“You did not leave me a choice,” Riordan reminded, and I managed a bright smile despite his droll tone.
“And he will not speak to anyone else after he learned what happened to the Light Wraith,” Orion added.
“Sage,” I insisted, meeting his eyes when he glanced at me in surprise. “His name was Sage.”
Orion nodded, and I looked at the sealed letter in my hand, which I had convinced Riordan to allow me write to Ornella that morning.
Well, I supposed I had demanded it. But it seemed important to follow her lead and at least try to explain ourselves.
We had thought she was in danger, and as far as we’d known at the time, the Wild Hunt were our enemies.
I had done my best to convey my horror for what happened to the Spring Court and my shame for the part I had played in getting her mate taken.
Riordan had wanted me to say that he alone was responsible, so Rian wouldn’t target me with his rage, but I knew my friend.
Only the utmost humility would suffice if I wanted to get Ornella to talk to us.
I had concluded by suggesting that we should still meet so she could explain more about the so-called Rot in the Four Courts.
Riordan had not wanted to promise anything about going to help to get Sage back, so I’d reluctantly left that part out of my final draft.
“You could have just taken my letter. You did not have to let me talk to him,” I pointed out.
“Yes, well, he refused to carry the letter until he laid eyes on you himself. He was not supposed to have given the letter to anyone but you. He was rather annoyed with us for relieving him of it before he could speak to you,” explained Orion.
He sounded exasperated as if the fey had been giving him a hard time.
“And you think he has a plan to hurt me?” I verified with a glance back at Ares and Helena who trailed us.
“I would not let you anywhere near him if we had not had him checked thoroughly for magical concealments. But just to be safe,” Orion insisted. He avoided my eyes, but I could hear the sincerity in his voice.
We reached the cell where I could smell the distinctive sweetness of overripe apples amidst the damp earth scent of the Spring fey. I saw a stout faun sitting quietly on the floor of his cell with his arms slung around furry knees that he’d drawn up to his chest.
“You got your wish,” called Orion as he unlocked the cell to allow me to step inside. “This is Lady Amira.”