I catch the first bit of pink coloring the sky. It chases away the clinging darkness and shadow, revealing the first truth I discovered in this realm.
There’s color.
It isn’t gray all the time, as seen through the veil.
Resting my head against his shoulder as he tucks his other arm beneath me, I lose myself in the rise and fall of his chest. The slow, steady breathing, the warmth of his presence, the feel of him against me—it leaves mecontented.
A sensation and state of mind I never experienced in the hells.
It’s too easy to grow addicted to this.
And I’m the kind of creature that will indulge.
“Good morn, little love,” he says, his voice a deep, sleep-riddled rumble.
“Good morn, my light,” I return, entwining my fingers with his to draw his hand up to the center of my chest.
We lie in silence, watching the horizon.
Light floods the sky with streaks of pale gold.
“What should I expect from the council during this meeting?” I ask, tightening my grasp on his hand.
Ryc chuckles, a slow, lazy sound. “Does your mind never rest?” I can hear the teasing smile in histone.
“Not usually.” It’s an honest answer.
And to be fair, I’ve been awake for some time now.
Left with my thoughts while he dreamt.
“Well, it’s bound to be a circus,” Ryc replies. “As you saw last spring.”
I groan and he laughs.
“Ganus and Eloric will levy their reasoning, presenting their alleged evidence, opening it for argument and deliberation. After they’ve gotten what they want to say out of the way, it’ll come to a vote and Rowen’s Fate will be decided.”
A vote we’ve decided to swaybeforeseeing evidence.
Ryc traces small circles below my collarbone with his thumb, drawing all of my attention to his touch.
“Who will you approach first?” I ask as my mind sears through potential kings.
“Darin,” he answers without hesitation. “The Sovereign King of Aeros.”
I remember him.
The ginger-haired fae with the lopsided grin.
“Perhaps consider not throwing him across a hall when you do,” I retort and a low laughter rumbles from Ryc’s chest.
“Darin will be easier to convince than Liran or even Oryn,” Ryc replies as I watch the muted colors of twilight grow more vibrant with the oncoming sun. “If we can secure them both, we’ll have majority.”
“And when I walk into the room? What happens then?”
I need to be prepared.
Scowls, scorn, and surprise are to be expected. But I need to know if I should prepare to fight. In a meeting with the Layer Lords, a fight is essentially guaranteed. But among these fae… I can’t say the same. Which… I’m not sure how that’s going to work sans an innate if it comes to that.
