The lords themselves were nothing impressive to behold. The oldest of the lot, Lycus, was a gray-haired man who’d spent time in the army before his father passed. Broad and weathered, he seemed the only soul paying the situation the gravity it was due.
The youngest, Kasos, imbued within me an urge to punch him across the mouth. The brat reclined in his chair, more interested in examining his nails than participating. Every time someone addressed him, he made a halfhearted joke and urged them to lay the silly matter to rest.
A middle-aged woman sat directly across from us, sour-faced with a taut bun. I couldn’t blame Lady Maera for her severity: women who inherited their father’s seats were no more respected by their peers than a lowly peasant.
The fourth, Crios, reminded me of Ainwir: sharp, well-dressed, with a hooked nose that imbued him with a unique presence. Though not handsome naturally, he outshone the pretty boy beside him with his neatly trimmed beard, styled dark hair, and elegant black cape.
We’d been talking in circles for an hour now. Red Bluff’s situation had shaken them, but it had not been the trump card we hoped for. While they argued amongst themselves, I glanced at Eleos, who sat behind me, recording notes, eyes flicking up to occasionally read the lord’s thoughts.
Lord Phaedrus ran a hand across his brow, his clipped tone barely concealing his annoyance. “So, you’d have us do nothing?”
Lord Kasos shrugged. “It’s not our responsibility. If the situation is dire enough, the church will send word.”
“The church will wait until it’s too late.” Phaedrus snapped. “Just as they were too late to save Red Bluff outpost.”
“Who cares about Red Bluff?” Kasos sneered. “It was a tiny ranching village. Another road can connect Therapne to Serifos.”
“You might be safe in your city now, but if all the outposts fall, we don’t have the resources to survive for long,” Phaedrus said, jaw grinding. “We must reach out for aid.”
“You’re looking in the wrong place. Duath nun isn’t protected by the Maiden. What salvation could it offer?”
Lady Maera looked sharply at the young man. “Scripture states all lands are watched over by the Maiden.”
“Precisely,” Phaedrus said. “What if the final city is in Duath Nun? If we don’t reach out, well, none of us will be there.”
“True enough.” Lord Crios had a deep, velvety voice. “But no one has crossed the Lethe in a century. Should we not await the crown’s word?”
“And we circle back to the beginning.” Phaedrus sighed. “The matter oftimeseems to be lost on you.”
“I agree.” Lord Lycus sat forward. “Fifteen meetings like this one have been called in the past century, yet no ship ever departed for Duath Nun. To await consent from the crown and church, we’d wait until our dying day.”
At least one lord was on our side. Seraphim stepped forward, speaking in a light, elegant voice that sounded nothing like her. “The consequences would be on none of you. I would lead this envoy. If the crown disapproves, they can take it out on me.”
Eleos’ voice whispered in my mind. “Maera and Crios aren’t worried about consequences; they think there’s not enough cause.”
Thinking on my feet, I glanced at Seraphim. “Have you mentioned the Archon’s concerns?”
Wrapping her arms around herself, Seraphim paced around the table, swaying with a feminine stride. “My husband is rightfully concerned about our dwindling land. Nobody has returned from Duath Nun in centuries. We sit in ignorance, oblivious to what their situation might be.”
“Are you suggesting we aid them?” Lord Crios raised an eyebrow.
“No,” Seraphim purred, lids falling. “I’m suggesting they might be thriving. What if they’ve kept the Empty at bay? What if they have land and resources to spare?”
“Does it matter?” Maera snapped. “They killed everyone aboard the last ship. That’s precisely why we forbid travel.”
“That was a hundred years ago,” Seraphim said. “How many heirs have inherited the crown since then?”
“We have to assume they’re hostile,” Lycus said firmly. “Conquering them is not an option.”
“There are many ways to tie nations together. The Merchant Isles once joined hands after years of bloody war.” Seraphim reminded them.
Her graceful poise and sultry, yet demure tone sounded nothing like the woman I knew. I almost believed this was truly Themis.
“Better,” Eleos whispered. “Everyone but Kasos, whether they realize it or not, took the bait. They’re wondering if Duath Nun isolated itself because it’s safe.”
Perfect. Clearing my throat, I drew the room’s attention. “What of the thieves who took the Maiden’s Bloodstone? You have heard of them?”
“Of course.” Lord Kasos crossed his legs. “They say the ghost of House Cynthus returned.” He chuckled. “What of it?”
