A grimace flashes across Rowen’s face before he mutes it away.
“No,” Ryc answers. “As such, the process will take years.”
“In the meantime, Vis will be left defenseless,” Rowen adds tersely. “Its borders will shrink. My people do not deserve this.Taniladoes not deserve this.”
His words wrench painfully at my heart in a way I didn’t realize possible.
Rowen is a devoted king.
And loving father.
Is it possible to mourn something you’ll never have?
“I don’t understand how your solution involves me,” I say.
“You’re more of a symbol,” Rowen answers as he straightens himself, his hands falling to his lap. He holds my stare with an intensity I struggle to not shy away from. “I can garner support to vote against the notion if I have the support of the future High Rulers.”
Ryc scoffs a dry laugh. “You want me to present her to the council the day of the vote. It’ll prove she’s not the goddess of death and she’s ready to keep her word—to ascend.”
The glance he gives Ryc is less than apologetic. “Yes.”
My nails dig into the heels of my palms. “And let me guess, if I refuse, you’ll tell the council I’ve returned anyway.” My tone grows ice cold.
“No,” Rowen says, shaking his head in a slow toss. “But Vaelyn will. If he hasn’t already.”
“Explain, Rowen,” Ryc demands in a growl.
“I had my suspicions about her already, Alaryc. Vaelyn confirmed them,” Rowen says simply. “When I declined his offer, he suggested I visit Ollora andstealthe innateless daughter of Celesta totakethe High Throne myself.”
My heart stops.
What?
My brother… encouraged Rowen to take the High Throne?
To takeme?
Force me to ascend?
Told Rowen I’m innateless?
Beside me, Ryc stares at Rowen in unflinching, darkened silence. He places a protective and reassuring hand over mine upon the table, urging them to relax by giving me a gentle squeeze. It’s thenI realize I do notfeelhis anger with his mental ward in place. What I feel is all my own.
Judging by the look he gives Rowen, perhaps it’s a good thing. But the warmth of his touch is barely enough to keep my mind from tripping into a tailspin, and the dread in my chest continues to build.
“He would start a war,” I breathe the words.
“Vis’ armies can help ensure that doesn’t happen,” Rowen returns.
Nowwe get to the heart of the matter.
It’s always an exchange.
Power, pleasure, or perception.
“If we help you first,” I snarl the words, my hands turning into fists. “Yoursoulis yours because ofme.” My lip curls.
“I’m asking you to help me save my daughter’s life,” he replies without hesitation.
