“We’ve gathered the tribunal,” Ailan said. “I’ve spoken to them on my own and discussed all that can be discussed without you present.”
Cora hadn’t been aware that any portion of the meeting would be held without them, but she wasn’t disappointed to have missed anything. She was here to forge an alliance and nothing more.
Ailan spoke again. “I’ve secured a binding vow from every member on the tribunal that they accept, honor, and protect Noah as their Morkara, despite his human blood. There was very little they could do to contest it, but it didn’t stop them from arguing over his origins for the better part of an hour.”
Cora winced. She was indeed glad to have missed that in favor of her overlong soak in the tub. But something snagged her attention. “What do you mean by a binding vow?”
“The High Fae are bound by vows, bargains, and promises when stated with certain words. Breaking them results in immediate Last Breath.”
Cora’s eyes widened. Faerytales often spoke of fae bargains but this was the first time she’d heard confirmation of the tales’ validity. The same tales also claimed fae couldn’t lie, which Valorre had demonstrated to be false numerous times. And Ailan had convinced the Forest People she was dying.
Mareleau narrowed her eyes. “You said you discussed all you can without us present. What exactly are we needed there for? Will we only be talking about the alliance?”
Ailan’s expression turned wary. “There are certain formalities we need to proceed with. I may have final say as regent, but the tribunal ensures the Elvyn people get a voice in every decision we make. They would like to discuss…you and Cora. Your human heritage forbids you from being here, which means we need to establish new rules regarding your presence.”
Her words had Cora’s muscles tensing. “You’re putting us on trial.”
“I’m not going to lie,” Ailan said. “It may feel like that. But theywillaccept you. They may request a demonstration of trust. From Cora in particular. A guarantee that you won’t use your magic against them.”
Her blood went cold. The collar tucked in the pocket of her robe suddenly felt heavier. She could guess what a guarantee of protection would look like to the Elvyn.
Ailan sighed. “I know it sounds offensive. You’ve done nothing wrong. Yet our people establish trust through binding vows, and those with human blood cannot make them. The Elvyn people learned the hard way with Darius.”
The edges of Cora’s indignation softened slightly. Tristaine and Darius were the only humans the Elvyn had ever dealt with, and neither painted a pleasant picture for her kind. As much as she hated bearing such cold suspicion, she could almost understand it.
Even as it boiled her blood.
“Fine,” she bit out. “I’ll establish trust however I can.”
It was for the alliance. Her peopleneededthis alliance. They needed any advantage they could get to face Darius when he inevitably came. Yet as Garot opened his swirling tunnel and ushered Cora and her companions inside, she was left to ponder: how could she establish trust with people who saw her as a villain?
37
The tunnel ceased its spinning in a matter of seconds. The whirling colors of ivory, blue, and gold melted outward to form a hallway featuring the same gold-veined marble floors as the bedroom and bathroom, the same blue crystalline walls. At the end of the hall was a pair of white doors painted with intricate gold vines. Etrix stood before them and greeted his daughter with a formal bow.
“We’re ready, regent,” he said as he straightened. The fact that Cora understood his words told her he’d already woven his translation enchantment.
However, Cora wasn’t sureshewas ready, and from the way Mareleau edged closer to her, arms cradling her son tightly to her chest, her friend was equally as apprehensive. Cora had been to plenty of council meetings now that she was queen, but was an Elvyn tribunal the same as a council?
They weren’t given long to ponder, for Etrix pushed open the doors and led the way inside. The room beyond was a wide, circular shape and darker than the hall had been. The sconces that lined the walls offered only a faint glow. The rest of the light came from overhead, where dazzling flashes of illumination darted beneath a domed ceiling. Cora blinked up at the lights; they came from glowing wings. Were they…butterflies? They cast the room in shades of blue and green. But as she stepped farther into the room, their wings glowed brighter, shifting to yellow and orange. Some deepened to a fiery red.
“Hold out your hand,” Etrix said. Cora stopped in place and dragged her eyes from the ceiling to find her companions had halted too. Ailan stood beside Etrix. A butterfly hovered over each of their heads; Etrix’s was blue while Ailan’s flickered between green and yellow. She didn’t see Garot until she noticed him settling into a chair nearby, a blue butterfly over his head. That drew her attention to the circular perimeter of the room and the three tiers of seating that lined the walls, the highest tier being the closest to the walls while the lowest circled the floor at the very center of the room. An Elvyn figure occupied almost every chair, leaving a few empty at the innermost tier.
Remembering what Etrix had said, she turned her gaze back to him and lifted her hand. A butterfly fluttered down from the ceiling and alighted on the back of her hand. Up close, she saw it had a total of eight delicate wings, all of which glowed a cloudy yellow-green. Just as quickly as it had touched down, it launched back into the air. This time, it hovered over her head and remained there, much like the ones floating above Etrix, Ailan, and Garot. Another glance at the dome showed most of the butterflies had dispersed and now fluttered above individual Elvyn figures. The light from their wings illuminated harsh stares as well as some curious expressions like Garot wore. Her eyes fell on another familiar face—Fanon—flickering orange beneath the glow of his butterfly. His eyes narrowed slightly as he met Cora’s gaze, and she turned her attention to Mareleau.
It was her turn to claim a butterfly. Mareleau’s eyes danced, expression enchanted, as the winged creature perched upon her hand shifted to a blue glow before hovering above her head.
“Their colors match our moods and emotions,” Ailan explained, voice low. “They ensure no one hides their true feelings from the rest of the tribunal. They also allow us to wordlessly demonstrate our choices when voting on a decision.”
That drained the pleasant aspects of Cora’s fascination. Now she felt naked. She was used to experiencing others’ emotions, but to have hers bared for others…
The light above her head shifted to orange. If the Elvyn associated color with emotions the same way the Forest People did—especially the more artistically inclined—blue would represent baseline calm, progressing into deeper emotions with teal, green, and yellow, then ending with more heated emotions represented by orange and red. White and violet were often used to express pure or spiritual aspects of magic.
The orange wings overhead made her annoyance clear for all to see. She gritted her teeth.
“Come,” Etrix said, gesturing toward the empty chairs at the innermost tier, “take a seat.”
Cora and Mareleau exchanged a wary glance before following him to the center of the room, then to the velvet-upholstered wingback chairs. They were about to sit down when shuffling movement had them halting in place. The Elvyn rose from their seats to kneel beside their chairs, heads bowed low. A murmur ofMorkararumbled through the room. Cora’s eyes darted from the bowed heads to Ailan, only to find her kneeling beside Etrix.
