Niall frowned. “I wonder, though, if Marius’s resurrection poses a problem for both our kingdoms. He is the rightful heir based on Paragonian tradition, and to be frank, he never had a soft spot for Rogos.”
At his side, Queen Penelope scoffed. “No Paragonian ever had a soft spot for Darnuith. We are quite simply in uncharted territory. Relations between our two kingdoms must start anew.”
Raven cleared her throat. “Then you must be excited to have one of your own on the Paragonian throne.”
Queen Penelope gave her a quizzical look. “You may be a witch, but you are not a citizen of Darnuith.”
“Medea was mated to Tavyss. It is Tavyss who appears at the center of Gabriel’s family crest. That crest was designed by her, a past queen of Darnuith. While it has been centuries since your people and his have been allies, you do celebrate a shared history, and my sisters and I descend from her sister Circe. We are Medea’s only living family, and I have nothing but warmth in my heart for the kingdom of my ancestors.”
Queen Penelope studied her carefully. The air around Raven thickened. She could feel the queen’s magic licking her, testing her. Tendrils of it swept around her ankles.Rude. She stared at Penelope, allowing a hint of the power she’d taken from the golden grimoire to show in her eyes.
“Keep your magic to yourself, please, unless you’d like me to probe you in return,” Raven said.
Queen Penelope blinked, growing flustered, and looked away. The feel of her magic was gone. Raven was too tired and hungry to dwell on the witch’s assessment of her. It had been less than forty-eight hours since she’d brought about Eleanor’s end. She wasn’t ready for another battle and certainly wasn’t inciting one.
Gabriel leaned back in his chair and wisely changed the subject. “Has Marius spoken since we arrived here?”
Niall rubbed his chin. “I fear not. Our best healers are working with him, and I am told he has taken food and drink. But so far, he does not speak and spends his hours staring aimlessly.”
“Then I think we can safely say that as of now he isn’t fit to rule. But should he challenge me for the throne in the future, I promise you, Raven and I will do what is best for Ouros. As you’ve pointed out, the goddess of the mountain herself placed these crowns upon our heads.” He motioned to the matching emerald crowns they were wearing. The green stones put off their own light, imbued with the magic of the mountain. “Leave Marius to me.”
“As long as we have an understanding,” Niall said. “Whatever happens in the future, we will expect Paragon to remember the generosity of Rogos.”
Gabriel gave him a deliberate and reassuring nod.
Raven took another bite of the scrumptious meal they’d been served in the high lord’s private dining room as the table plunged into silence. It was some type of poultry, she decided, going off the chicken-like wing on her plate. Only, unlike a chicken, the creature had four legs instead of two. She decided not to ask what it was. It was too delicious, and she was too hungry to spoil it with some story about it being a flying swamp rat or something even more hideous. Such a stomach-turning disappointment had happened before to her in Ouros.
Niall sipped his wine without ever taking his eyes off Gabriel. There was more, something he wanted but wasn’t saying. And then with a slight narrowing of his eyes, he added, “As your ally, I’d like to contribute the time of a few of our finest metalworkers to help rebuild the Obsidian Palace.”
Smiling, Gabriel bowed slightly over his plate. “You honor me with your generosity.”
Under the table, he squeezed her hand. They both understood that this offer came with strings attached. Anything built by elves would likely be accessible by them, a trap door into their kingdom should Niall ever need it. But Gabriel had done the only thing he could do in accepting the offer. Not only did Paragon need the help, but they were also building something here, something that would have to be repeated with the newly elected Chancellor of Everfield and Master Demidicus of Nochtbend. Every move they made laid the groundwork for the future, one they wanted to be marked by a long and abundant peace.
“What of the Highborn Council? Most of the representatives who still stood with Eleanor were killed in the uprising, but not all,” Queen Penelope said. “In Darnuith, we have imprisoned any surviving supporters of Eleanor. They will stand trial, and justice will be served. But we cannot control what happens in the other kingdoms.”
Raven raised her chin. “There is no place for supporters of the past regime in the future governance of Paragon. However, each kingdom should decide on their own what to do with their past representatives. Certainly, many supported Eleanor in name only. Stripping them of the title would seem enough to us. Gabriel and I plan to reestablish the Council of Elders as it existed before Eleanor and Brynhoff’s rise to power.”
“I thought Eleanor slaughtered the entire council, including her own parents,” Niall said.
“She did.” Gabriel nodded. “But according to traditional Paragonian law, when a council member dies, they are to be replaced by their eldest child. Many of those children are still alive, and what openings remain on the council, we intend to fill with representatives from the other kingdoms. Rogos will have a place, as will Darnuith.”
That made Niall’s smile grow broader, and he tapped his glass against Gabriel’s. “Already a true king.”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “We would love to answer more of your questions, but many things are still to be decided. Raven and I have barely healed from our ordeal and will need time to rebuild the kingdom. Many changes will be made once the council is in place, and of course, there is the matter of our official coronation. The people of Paragon need to be united behind us, or all of our intentions are meaningless.”
“Of course. You need time.” Niall sipped his wine again. “I’ve been rude pressing you as I have.”
But Queen Penelope sniffed as if she wasn’t quite done being rude. Her ice-blue eyes shifted to Raven. “What about the book?”
“What book?” Raven gave her a guileless look, but of course Penelope was speaking of the golden grimoire. Colin had told her the witch had asked about it and used her influence to try to woo him into obtaining it for her. But Raven wanted Penelope to address it directly with her. She had to start the way she wanted to continue. Paragon and Darnuith had a long, unfortunate history of being at odds with each other. It was time to usher in an era of cooperation.
“The golden grimoire. Colin told me you’d obtained it. I assume that’s what Eleanor was after when she summoned you to her. What became of it?”
“Eleanor used it to kill the goddess and take her place. The goddess Hera helped her ascend in exchange for the grimoire. Eleanor succeeded. What she hadn’t counted on was that we would succeed in undoing her ascension.”
“The grimoire was once Medea’s, our queen. It belongs in Darnuith. It is a cultural artifact.” Penelope’s eyes flashed.
Raven schooled her features. She’d suspected this would be an issue. “Unfortunately, the grimoire was taken by Hera before Eleanor’s ascension. It’s gone for good.”
