Montaghue’s words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
The King’s jaw tensed. "The trouble is," he spat, "the bastard gave no details as to what those tributes are or where to find them."
Vivienne’s brow furrowed, lips parting as she struggled to grasp the enormity of what she was hearing. "Your Majesty," she began, her words tentative, "to ensure I understand this correctly…"
She inhaled, piecing the madness together aloud. "Velorien, the god of justice and balance, and the leader of a nation we barely comprehend, has placed a bloodline curse on Fendwyr, which is the reason for the low birth rate and lack of an heir. In order to break it, we must retrieve undefined tributes from unknown islands and transport them to the altar of another unknown island."
Chancellor Montaghue nodded, entirely unaffected by the sheer absurdity of it all. "Yes, yes, an accurate summary."
Vivienne let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, shaking her head as she crossed her arms. "This is both absurd and impossible." Her voice wavered between disbelief and defiance. She squared her shoulders. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, this cannot be real."
Montaghue recoiled as if she had slapped him. His bony hand shot up, a single gnarled finger jabbing in accusation. "You dare question the honor of His Majesty?" he shrieked.
Vivienne’s stomach clenched. A lump lodged itself in her throat. "No, I didn’t mean to?—"
The King silenced the Chancellor with a lazy flick of his wrist. "Stand down, Montaghue."
The Chancellor snapped his mouth shut, but his glare burned holes through her.
The King turned his full attention to Vivienne. His sneer was slow, deliberate, like a predator savoring a wounded animal. "I’m disappointed," he murmured, his voice thick with mock pity. "Despite being raised by accomplished scholars, the poor girl still hasn’t put the pieces together."
Vivienne’s fingers twitched against the hem of her bodice.What does he mean?Her thoughts raced, a tangled, panicked mess. The weight of their stares pressed down on her, suffocating. She shifted, shrinking inward, as if making herself smaller might somehow dull the unbearable scrutiny.Put the pieces together…The words echoed in her mind, each repetition magnifying her discomfort.
A warm hand pressed against the small of her back, the touch gentle yet firm. Lewis had moved beside her. She glanced up, finding reassurance in his steady presence. Though his posture remained composed, his golden-brown eyes flickered with unease. Still, he held the King’s gaze without faltering.
"Your Majesty," Lewis offered a fluid bow. "I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. My name is Lewis Blume, and I serve as an Assistant Royal Botanist in your court."
The King shifted in his throne, struggling against the weight of his opulent robes. "I thought you looked familiar," he muttered, studying Lewis with mild disinterest. His lips curled. "You’re the plant boy."
"I prefer plant man," Lewis muttered under his breath, only loud enough for Vivienne to hear.
Her lips twitched despite the tension strangling the air.
"If you’ll allow me, Your Majesty," Lewis said, inclining his head, "I do love a good puzzle."
The King gave a predatory grin as he glanced between them, savoring Vivienne’s lingering discomfort. After a deliberate pause, he gave a single, measured nod, a wordless invitation to continue.
Lewis released Vivienne’s back, letting his hands settle at his sides.
"Although Velorien, the god and ruler of the kingdoms of Osimiri, provided a way to break the bloodline curse, he withheld the necessary details for you to do so. You've been sending explorers and researchers to the islands, gathering whatever fragments of knowledge you can, searching for the artifacts, and hoping to break the curse."
Vivienne’s breath snagged in her throat.My parents have taken dozens of voyages. Were all of them in pursuit of breaking this so-called curse?A cold sensation curled in her chest, replacing the humiliation she had felt moments earlier.How much of my life has been shrouded in secrecy and misdirection?
The King inhaled sharply, a hissing sound slipping through his teeth. "Well, well, well." He leaned back into the plush blue velvet of his throne, his expression triumphant. "You solved it, plant boy." His gaze flicked to Vivienne, smugness dripping from every syllable. "Miss Banner will be lucky to have you on board."
Vivienne and Lewis exchanged confounded glances.
"On board, sir?" Lewis repeated, his voice catching.
The King’s smirk deepened. "Miss Banner agreed to continue her parents’ work," he said as though the conversation had already concluded. "And so she shall." He placed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. "I was even generous enough to provide her with a ship."
Vivienne’s stomach dropped. Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to speak. "Your Majesty, I—" she swallowed and tried again. "My agreement was made before I understood the true nature of their work. You can’t possibly expect us to?—"
"YOU AGREED!" The roar cracked through the throne room, shaking the stone walls. The King lunged forward, his fingers digging into the carved owls on the throne’s arms. A thick vein pulsed violently against his temple, throbbing in time with every furious heartbeat.
Vivienne blenched. Lewis stiffened beside her. The Chancellor shrunk backward. She hadn’t realized she had clutched Lewis’ arm until his hand covered hers. A reassuring squeeze sending the silent message of ‘I’m here.’
King Berius exhaled heavily, regaining his composure—what little he had left. "You will honor your agreement and serve your King,” he said, his tone eerily calm.
