“It has come to light that Genevieve the Kind, his dear wife, had fallen gravely ill and sadly passed a few months ago,” Zelrus continued.
“Possibly the only faerie I've ever been sorry to hear about passing,” Haros muttered, and Lephas nodded.
“Yes,” Zelrus agreed. “Her good deeds and kind nature are no secret amongst our people. I have been asked for permission to name an orphanage after her, which I have of course agreed to.”
“With Genevieve's passing weighing heavily on him, it appears Cirro has been making great strides to continue his wife's good work,” Raxx continued. “I have had him under constant surveillance.”
“So that's where you've been!” Oriel piped up. “Didn't think to clue me in on that one, Zel?”
“It was imperative that we keep Raxx's movements as covert as possible. Couldn't have every barmaid in the lower quarter knowing about it, now could we?” the king replied tersely.
Oriel just snorted and looked away.
“I am planning to attend this meeting. I will have a full complement of guards escorting me, naturally.”
“I don't know about this. It seems risky.” Haros shook his head.
“It is a risk, Haros,” Zelrus agreed. “However, it's a calculated one. If we can get Cirro to join our ranks against his brother Lazuli, it would be significantly more reward than risk. I believe it to be a good move on our part, but I have come here today in the interest of diplomacy and to gain your sage counsel. You men are among the only ones I fully trust with this kind of information.”
“Sire, if I may?” Lephas cleared his throat.
Zelrus nodded.
“I stand with your decision. I don't trust any faerie, but as you rightly said, without risk there is no reward. You have my backing.”
“Thank you, Lephas.” Zelrus looked around at the rest of the room.
“I don't like the idea; however, I will fully support any decision my king and my commander are backing.” Haros nodded, gesturing to Lephas.
“I believe this to be a chance to make a real stride for peace. I am glad to have the support of fine soldiers such as yourselves.” Zelrus smiled and glanced across at his brother.
Oriel looked back at him blankly.
“Thoughts, Brother?” he probed.
“None, my king. My men support it; that's enough for me,” Oriel replied tightly.
“Whatever you want to say, you can say it here, Oriel.” Zelrus leant forward, resting his palms on the table in front of him. “I hold your opinion in high regard... On these sorts of things, at least.”
“Well... I don't believe Cirro Goldwyrm to be any immediate threat. However, Idobelieve you are focussing your efforts on the wrong faerie royal.”
“Lazuli is no concern of mine. He is not interested in hearing my peace treaty conditions. He wishes for our kind to remain in the slums, rotting away forever.” Zelrus clenched his teeth.
“True, but he did kill our...” Oriel faltered. “His whole lineage are king-killers.”
“Your point being? I don't make a habit of giving murdering bigots much of my time.”
“I'm just saying, you won't be giving anyone your time if you're dead. Bigot or otherwise.” The prince crossed his arms.
“Are you suggesting I shouldn't meet with Cirro because of his brother?” Zelrus asked.
“No, I'm just saying don't take your eye off the bastard. By all means, knock yourself out with peace treaties and meetings, but Cirro is not the king – Lazuli is. You'd do well to remember he's got a knife for your heart.”
“Thank you. Valid points, Brother.” Zelrus stood with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Funny you should mention Lazuli – you've actually led me nicely into the other important, more immediate piece of information that has come to my attention just this morning.”
Zelrus unclipped his long cloak from around his neck and draped it over the back of a vacant chair. Attached to his belt was a long, narrow tube. He popped the lid, placing it on the table. From inside, he pulled a map and unfurled it to lay it out flat.
The soldiers dragged their chairs in and leant closer.
