by Jack Whitney
“We can only do so much from our side,” Draven added. “All we ask right now is that you think about sending aid should we need it. Supplies. Weapons. Possibly Belwark patrols since you are the closest,” he said with a look towards Rhaif.
Mutters between races filled the air. Aydra glanced at Draven, and he squeezed her hand again.
A few moments passed, and she watched Hagen sit back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “All right, Sun Queen. You’ve got your supplies should you need them.”
“We will see what we can spare for the Venari,” announced Councilwoman Reid. “Perhaps a Dreamer company or two.”
Aydra’s chest swelled, and she leaned forward at the table as Nyssa grabbed her arm. Eyes flickered to the Nitesh at the end of the table, and she straightened up from speaking with her guard.
“This not the fight of our Martyrs. Not yet,” she told them plainly. Her hands stretched together above the table, and she sighed. “However… should you need supplies… we will send with Honest traders.”
Breath returned to Aydra’s lungs. She met Dorian’s proud gaze, and he smiled at her across the table.
“All this talk of war has me starving,” announced Hagen as he stood. “Where is this grand food the king promised us?”
As the rest of the people stood around them, Aydra’s chest continued to flutter. She turned slowly to Draven, unable to keep the smile from her face. His jaw twitched as he fought a grin, and his hair fell over his face as he winked at her.
She wanted to him to fuck her on the table right then as the exhilaration of moment swam through her, but she settled for the grand kiss he gave her upon standing.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
THE NIGHT OF the meeting consisted of joyous laughter and promises from the Blackhands, excited about the possibility of spilling the blood of strangers. She and Draven laughed with them, retiring only when everyone else had broken off into their bedding partners.
Aydra didn’t want to rise the next morning, too comfortable in Draven’s arms to move upon the sun rising. But she knew she had to. She would need to get Lex out of bed, find out where her siblings were, gather everyone before their guests left for the day.
“Stay,” he muttered as she moved.
“We can’t,” she argued. “We have to get up. You need to find Balandria.”
Draven groaned as he sat up and rubbed his face in his hands. “For someone who skives off Queen duties on the regular, you certainly do make yourself responsible for people waking.”
“I do not know where my youngers ended up last night. I have to find them. And Lex will have who knows in her bed.”
“Probably my Second,” Draven mumbled. “Perhaps your younger brother.”
Aydra gave her hair another fluff and then headed out of the bedroom, walking barefoot over the black rugged floor down the hall and up the staircases to the rooms of the personal Belwark guards. She didn’t pause before bursting in, not caring who it was that had accompanied her Second the night before.
“Lex, are you awake yet? My brother— Oh.”
Her brain stopped computing upon seeing the people in Lex’s bed.
Balandria. One of the Council’s Dreamer daughters. And Hagen.
“Oh,” was all Aydra could manage.
Hagen moved slightly, his arms rising over his head as he laid between Balandria and the Dreamer daughter.
“Morning, Sun Queen,” he mused with a smile.
Aydra fought the grin threatening her lips. “Morning, High Elder. I’m glad to know you’ve not really a type.”
Hagen huffed under his breath. “My type is strong women.” He slapped Balandria’s butt as he rose from the bed, stark naked, and Aydra’s brows raised as he crossed the space towards her.
“If the Venari hadn’t already had you in his bed, you’d have been here with us.”
She smirked at him. “Believe me when I tell you, Blackhand. It would not have been your idea to grace my bed. It would have been mine.”
He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Come to Dahrkenhill. Bring the Venari and your Second. We could have fun.”
She allowed her eyes to dance with his a moment, and then she shook her head. “Get your clothes and find your way to your own room. I’ve been told you all are leaving in an hour.” Her eyes flickered back to the Dreamer daughter stirring in the bed, and she said, “That goes for you as well, Skye,” to the girl. “Your father will be wondering where you are.”
The Dreamer, Skye, jolted up and grabbed her dress off the ground, eyes wild at seeing Aydra standing in the room with her. “My Queen—” she looked in the mirror and fluffed her long blonde hair “—my Queen, I’m so sorry. Please—”
Aydra chuckled under her breath and held up a hand. “I did not see you,” she told her.
Skye grasped her arm. “Thank you,” she whispered before running out of the door.
Aydra woke the Seconds then, and hurried them both to get ready. Hagen quickly excused himself upon their rising and darted from the room.
Lex exchanged a knowing smile with Aydra as the door closed, and Aydra raised a brow.
“Tell me he’s as good with that tongue everywhere else as he is in his charms,” Aydra demanded.
Balandria and Lex looked at each other, and then grinned at her. “Exceeding expectations,” Lex mused.
“Rivaling my own King,” Balandria added, winking at Aydra.
Aydra’s brows heightened. “Really?”
“Really,” Lex agreed.
Balandria stood from the bed and came around to face Aydra. “Do you know the twist Draven does—”
“Hey Lex, have you seen—” Draven bursted into the room then without knocking, and Balandria stopped speaking. Draven frowned as he looked between them.
“No one told me about this morning party,” he said in a low tone, eyes darting between the three.
Aydra smirked and grabbed Lex’s shirt off the floor. “Get your clothes on, Seconds. We’re seeing the rest of these people off in an hour.”
Seeing off their guests the following morning was different this time than times before. The courtyard seemed to be divided, only Dorian and Nyssa being the two that darted between the separated guests. Aydra did not speak any more to the Council or the Dreamer captains than normal, but she did mingle with her friends, hugging and telling them each of them goodbye individually.
Hagen had her promise to visit their town soon. Nadir told her he would expect her there to see him during the next Deads so she could talk to the water serpent she’d promised to help with. Aydra eyed him as he told Nyssa good-bye, watching as a blush rose on Nyssa’s cheeks and she laughed under her breath at whatever joke Nadir had said. Nadir had kissed her hand, and he gave her a wink before turning away from her finally.
Lovi hugged Aydra tightly, telling her he would take her to see the Scrolls when she came to help with the serpent. And when the Nitesh finally reached her, Aydra didn’t know what to say.
The Nitesh reached up to Aydra’s face and pushed her hair off her cheek. “Informed of any lies from your mother, tell me. You have my support for whatever path you should choose to take next, my Queen.”
Aydra heart jumped in her throat, for Hagen had called her the same only moments before.
Draven draped his arm around her as the last of the carriages left, and she hugged him from the side. “Looks like we have plans,” she said with a sigh.
He smiled down at her, and she met his gaze. “I told you they would call you their queen.”
A small smile spread over her lips, and he bent his head down to kiss her. She sighed into his embrace, cherishing the small moment of freedom and warmth in front of the rest of the kingdom.
“All right, enough with the public displays,” came Dorian’s voice as he pushed past them.
Aydra laughed and pulled away from Draven, sinking her arm into her brother’s bent elbow. “I’m so proud of you,” she told him as she reached up to fluff hi
s hair.
He chuckled under his breath and started to walk with her into the castle doors. “What do you say to a pastry breakfast?” he asked her. “In the kitchens at our table.”
“Am I allowed a guest?” she asked, eyes flickering to Draven behind them.
Dorian paused, squinted eyes darting over Draven’s silent figure. “I guess he can come.”
Draven smirked at him. “Nice to know one member of the family likes me,” he mused under his breath.
“My sister—”
The sound of Rhaif’s voice made Aydra stop in her tracks. She stopped, and Dorian’s arm tensed around her. She squeezed his arm back and gave him a nod as she turned and stepped away towards her brother.
“Rhaif,” she said, stepping up to him on the other side of the door.
Rhaif pushed his hands behind his back. “You’ll meet me in the Chamber in an hour,” he demanded.
“Why would I do that?” she asked.
“Because we’ve much to discuss after the meeting yesterday,” he replied.
Her jaw tightened at his gaze, and she finally gave him a nod. “Very well.”
Aydra couldn’t stop pacing, a nervous energy pouring through her core.
Draven and Lex were with her in her room. He was leaned against the poster of her bed, Lex sitting down at the end of the mattress.
“I don’t like it,” Draven argued. “What does he want?”
“One or both of two things,” Aydra said. “He either truly wants to discuss the meeting or he means to punish me.”
“Punish you?” Draven repeated with a balk of his head.
“If he touches you—”
Aydra held a hand up to Lex. “No. You’ll do nothing. Your orders are to protect my sister, no matter what happens, you protect her.”
“Wait,” Draven interjected. “What—”
Lex’s jaw tightened, and her fist clenched around her sword. “I will not—”
“Swear it,” Aydra demanded, stopping in front of her and ignoring Draven. “If you love me, you will swear it. Nyssa and Dorian must stay safe. And you cannot kill him if something happens.”
Lex stared at her. “If he kills you—”
“Why the fuck is this even a conversation?” Draven interjected, stepping forward. “Kills her—”
“—I am to simply sit back and do nothing?” Lex continued. “How—”
“The same goes for you,” Aydra suddenly told Draven.
Draven’s nostrils flared, and he stilled as though paralyzed against the post, arms crossed over his chest. “What have you not told me?” he asked deliberately.
Aydra swallowed hard, her weight shifting as she dodged his question. “If he hurts me, you are to do nothing.”
The glare in which he stared at her with then made her bones tingle, the hair on her arms stand on end. “I will rip him to shreds with my bare hands,” he uttered.
“You won’t get the chance with his fire,” she argued.
Wind knocked the grand window open so violently that one of them shattered against the stone. Draven stared at her, nostrils flared as his arms tightened across his chest so firmly that veins popped to the surface.
“Why do you think Duarb gave the Venari King wind?” he said in a low growl.
Aydra paused and met his gaze. “If you kill him, you will start a war. The Belwarks and Dreamers will not listen to Dorian even if he tells them not to go to war with you. They will want vengeance for him.”
“And they won’t if you die?”
“The Bedrani Council has wanted me subdued for some time. His killing me would be a welcome reprieve, especially after this week.” She looked between the pair and crossed her arms over her chest. “Swear to me. Both of you.”
Lex exchanged a glance with Draven, and at the same time they both said, “No.”
“Please—”
“We shouldn’t even be having this conversation,” Draven interjected.
A knock on the door signified that it was time. Aydra swallowed hard and shook her head. “I have to go.”
She disappeared from the room without look at them.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
THE RAVEN FLEW in one of the open windows and perched on her shoulder as she walked down to the Council Chamber.
Plan? it asked her.
Buy time. I do not wish to make a saint out of him.
Rhaif was sitting at the long table when she arrived. A Belwark led her inside, and she took Draven’s seat across from him. His chin sat against his hand, and he was leaned back lazily in his seat.
“Close the windows,” Rhaif instructed the Belwarks from his chair. “Then leave us.”
Aydra’s chest tightened.
He did mean to hurt her.
She shifted in her seat, jaw tightening. “Think they don’t know how to break glass?” she asked, knowing why he was closing the panes.
Rhaif stared at her, but he did not utter another word. Each grand window closed, and throughout it, she nor he moved, or blinked.
But once the doors shut, she felt her breath stop.
Rhaif sighed, and he allowed his hand to hit the end of the chair arm. “What is your plan, sister?” he asked across the table.
Her brows narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Your plan,” he repeated. “I know better than to think you actually love the Venari brute, not to mention the display the past two days, your fraternizing with our eastern enemies… flirting and speaking to them as though you truly mean to be their allies. I do not dare to think you mean to truly bring the old Echelon together. And besides… You wouldn’t know what love was if it was thrown at your feet.”
“How would you know what love is? The only thing you’ve ever loved is yourself.”
“Wrong,” he argued upon his standing. “The only things I have ever loved are our giver mother and you. Everything I have ever done has been for you. Your safety.”
Aydra’s hands curled in on themselves. “Burning me is not love. Manipulating me is not love. You do not trust me. You sent an army after me because I went to help our allies to the south—”
“You betrayed me and all of your people to travel south for an orgy all because you thought I was being mean to you,” he mocked. A sarcastic smile rose on his face and he started crossing the space between them. “Ash told me about the two of you as soon as he and his company returned here. They told me of you with the Hunter, with the Honest commander… how you stuck so close to them throughout the battle, revealed your secrets, demanded the Dreamer company lay down their lives for a cause they’d been ordered to not have any part in.” He paused and towered over her. “So tell me, my dear sister. What is your plan?”
She stared at him, feeling the raven watching her from the top of one of the chairs, waiting on its orders to attack. But she didn’t give it.
She stood from the chair and walked deliberately around him, and she answered in the only way she knew might save her from war.
Lies.
“Patience, brother,” she replied slowly. “Allow them think they have a place at our table. Bide our time. And then eventually… once we have them where we want them, we strike. Hard. Take the southern realm as ours.” She started to pace around him. “Can you see it?” she whispered. “Hunters on their knees at our feet. A summer castle on Lovi’s shores. After we have the south, we can set our eyes on the eastern mountains. The Blackhands will never know our strength. They will not stand a chance. And when they are ours, we will only have one piece to conquer. Haerland’s own Martyrs would rather kill themselves than start a war. You will be king of all Haerland.” She rounded in front to him again and pressed her hands to his cheeks. “Arbina’s roots will freeze. The Nitesh will grant you immortality for your sparing her people. You, my brother, can be the King who never dies.”
“Immortality, you say?” he repeated, his gaze hazing over as he looked out the window.
“A gift for your generosity,” she whispered. “For the greatest
and last King Haerland will ever know. Rhaifian Sunfire. Ruler of the Seven Realms. Conqueror of Ghosts. Defender of the Lost.” She pulled back and stared determinedly into his eyes.
“High King of Haerland.”
Her brother grasped her cheeks softly in his hands, smiling proudly, his pupils dilated with darkened glee. He leaned closer, his lips tickling hers, and she waited for the moment in which he would kiss her crudely as he’d done before.
And then he laughed under his breath.
“Lies.”
He yanked the roots of her hair and threw her backwards into the table. Her hip hit the edge of it, and she winced, her hair falling over her face.
“Why—why would you lie to me? What are you up to that you would need to create such an elaborate false scheme?” he growled.
“Because I knew it was what you wanted to hear. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that you would actually believe me when I say I love him,” she blurted.
His brows raised. “You—” a chair flew away from his hand and crashed into the floor “you actually… love him?” he dared ask as he continued stepping towards her.
Aydra straightened herself up, her chest heaving. “I do.”
Blue fire pushed up from beneath his gambeson and onto his neck as his breaths became shorter and shorter. Black engulfed his fingertips and began splintering up his arms. Aydra felt her eyes fluttering back, and she heard the crows echoing in her ears.
“Stand down,” she warned him. “Don’t make me do this—”
“No, my sister,” he said as the black reached his eyes. “Don’t make me.”
And then he screamed.
Windows shattered. She flung herself to the floor into a ball and shielded her head in her hands. She heard the rapture of her crows dive into the room. She expected the flames to engulf her, to take her into their grasp and burn her alive.
