“What’s that?” Mev asked.
“It’s an elemental binding woven into the royal line,” Galfrid explained to his daughter. “The crown’s wards recognize the magic in our veins… wind and sky, the gifts of Aetheria. Land and all beneath it, gifts of Gyoria. And the sea, Thalassari’s gift. Without it, the seal stays shut, no matter the key or spell.”
“It’s a good thing you recruited Terran.”
“‘Recruit’ is not the word I’d use. He agreed to retrieve it having seen the beginnings of an Unbalance himself. That Balthor lied about seeing such evidence, and much more, planted seeds of mistrust?—”
“Which you took advantage of. Lyra.” The king sighed. “You have exceeded all expectations.”
Why, then, did I feel like a failure?
The Stone was within our reach, yet… I’d deceived Terran, just as his father had done.
“He knows nothing of the Gate.”
Galfrid sat, so Mev and I did the same. I’d always loved this chamber, its chairs carved of pale ashwood and cushioned in clouds of silk. Elegant, ethereal… like sitting in a wisp of sky. Yet as I settled, my thoughts strayed to Terran’s chair in his own solar: deep-cushioned, worn to the shape of him and warm from the ever-burning hearth.
“Nothing at all?” Mev’s question was a good one.
“He is smart, and likely suspects.”
“But has not asked you directly?” Galfrid appeared thoughtful.
“Nay.”
“You care for him.”
I’d been looking at the ring my mother gave me, not unlike the one Mev wore. My head snapped up.
“Your majesty?—”
“Galfrid in these quarters, as I’ve told you many times, Lyra.”
He had, but it was difficult not to see him as my liege. I still saw myself as I did the day my parents left their positions, and I officially began to serve the crown: a young Aetherian, eager to serve her king. Certainly not an equal, as he suggested with permission to use his given name.
“Galfrid.” It felt… unnatural.
“I have many years on you, and Shadow Diplomat you may be”—his smile was warm—“remember who trained you.”
He did. Among others.
“Shadow… what now?” Mev’s expression was as open and honest as always.
“I will explain later,” I said, having meant to tell her for some time now. There was no purpose denying the truth. “I’ve come to…”
Care for him? Desire him? Want to be near him every waking moment?How could I possibly put into words my tumultuous feelings for Terran?
“It doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “Both Terran and Kael”—Galfrid looked at his daughter—“were raised by two strong, intelligent Gyorians.”
He had never spoken of King Balthor in such a way.
“Father… you’re talking about the guy who kidnapped Mom and sent her pregnant through the portal. I mean, Gate.”
“I am aware,” he said in that calm, soothing tone that was Galfrid’s signature. “But that does not negate the fact that Balthor is one of the strongest of his clan in many generations. His sons were trained by the best, and their mother one of the kindest and most caring I knew. She balanced him, keeping Balthor in check in ways that became evident after her death. You’ve seen evidence of this through Kael. It does not surprise me Lyra sees the same in Terran.”
“But even Kael says his brother is more like their father. That he’s harder… more unforgiving.”
“Both true.” I could testify to it easily. “But with many redeeming qualities. None of which will help our cause if he can’t be convinced to help us.”
