He offered the falcon a strip of meat and she hopped from his backrest to his shoulder pad. “You’re taking her with you. As soon as you find the Forest People, send her back to me so I know it worked.”
It was a risk adding another being to her travels. She’d already have to worldwalk with Valorre, Mareleau, and Noah. Now Berol too. And that was only if she managed to locate the commune. “We’ll all do our best to rest tonight, and I’ll practice in the morning. As soon as I’m certain I can accomplish this feat, we’ll depart.”
“You’ll depart,” Larylis echoed, “as early as tomorrow?”
“Yes. Likewise, I assume you’ll want to leave for Vera at once.” She hated that every word deepened the agonized look in his eyes. There was only one concession she could offer. “After I find the Forest People and they’ve helped Mareleau suppress her magic without the collar, I’ll bring her and Noah straight to Verlot Palace. I’ve physically been there, so it won’t be a challenge for me to worldwalk there.”
That eased some of the pain on his face but he said nothing.
Cora shifted her gaze to Mareleau, awaiting her next objection. She didn’t blame her friend for her qualms. No, she fully understood them. If Mareleau decided not to come with Cora to speak to the Forest People, she’d accept her decision. But she was confident they could help mask her magic and render the collar unnecessary. Cora couldn’t stand the thought of her wearing it a second longer, and that was only considering her friend’s pain. There were other possible complications, like infection.
To her surprise, some of the fire seemed to go out of Mareleau. She shrank down, as if sinking into her own resignation. Her voice came out hollow as she spoke. “You said the Forest People might have answers about the prophecy. They might know more about Noah’s role in it. About…my role.”
Cora could only nod. A bitter ache flashed through her, a reminder of how she’d been targeted for that very role. A role that was never hers to play.
“And they are firmly against Darius,” Mareleau said, “who we know sees us as his enemy.”
Another nod.
Her eyes grew distant. “Then they very well may be the only ones who can help.”
“I think they’re our best chance at understanding the situation we’re in,” Cora said.
“Fine.” Mareleau rose from her chair in a rush. The chair legs screeched against the flagstones as she shoved the piece of furniture back, then promptly swept from the room without another word.
Larylis was much slower to rise, and he lingered at the table for several long moments before he spoke. “I don’t like it. I don’t like any of this. But I understand the necessity of this plan.”
That was all Cora could have hoped for. None of them liked the situation they were in, but if everyone understood and accepted how they must proceed, Cora could be satisfied.
Larylis followed his wife. Alden and Hardingham exited the council room next. That left only Lex and Lily.
Lex gave them a wary grimace. “I only understood a solid half of what we talked about just now, and I sure don’t envy you. I almost feel guilty for leaving tomorrow, but this isn’t exactly my circus or my monkeys.”
Cora frowned. “Did you just call my kingdom a circus?”
Lily placed a hand on her husband’s forearm. “What he means is, even though we must return to our own kingdom, we will do whatever we can to help.”
“That’s exactly what I meant!” Lex beamed. “You can count on us to pass on any intel about the King of Syrus. If he’s in southern Norun near Vinias, we’ll hear about it while we journey home to Tomas. Vinias is a neutral kingdom, and they aren’t known for discretion when it comes to other kingdoms’ affairs. Then again, it also makes them a shit ally when they’re all that stands between you and a kingdom that seeks to?—”
Lily elbowed him. “As promised, we’ll keep you apprised of rebel activity in Norun too. The rebels may not be able to keep King Darius at bay, but if they succeed at stirring chaos in Norun—or, as we hope, taking Haldor and Sparda back—he won’t be able to depend on Norun’s military forces to aid him.”
That sparked something like hope in Cora’s chest. “Thank you.”
Once Lex and Lily exited the room, leaving Cora and Teryn alone at last, Cora swept over to her husband. He was still slumped sideways in his chair, and when she kneeled before his legs, Berol launched from his shoulder to the rafters. Teryn gave her a sorrowful smile. She returned it and scooted closer on the floor, resting her head on his thigh. There was something comforting about sitting like this, with him in the chair, her on the floor, his leg a firm pillow. It made her feel—at least for now—like she didn’t have to be the one in charge. The queen responsible for weighty decisions. Like this, she could be small and afraid, soothed by the man she loved.
He extended a hand and ran his fingers over her smooth tresses. She wore a simple day dress beneath her more formal robe, her hair in a long braid. They stayed like that for several quiet and contented moments.
Then Cora angled her face until their eyes locked. “This isn’t how I wanted to spend the first day of our marriage.”
His hand left her hair to brush her cheek. “Nor I. If someone had told me I’d have my new wife on her knees before me on my wedding night, I’d have had a much different picture in mind.”
She was too tired to even blush at his words, though she appreciated his attempt at levity. So badly she wanted to believe their night could be salvaged. She’d been looking forward to an encore of the passion they’d explored the night he’d arrived. But now, with the lost lives of the archers weighing on her heart, as well as her anxiety over what was to come, this wasn’t the time for desire.
Teryn knew it too, for he did nothing to take advantage of their current position, despite his teasing words. Instead, he continued to caress her cheek, her hair, while she nestled against his leg, breathing in the scent of him, letting his stoic calm—however feigned—forge a moment of peace in this godsforsaken day.
22
Larylis had never hated being king more than he did now. He understood what Mareleau needed to do. Understood the importance of his duties in defending Vera’s shores. But why did necessity and duty have to stand in such stark contrast with his heart? Why was the best solution to be separated—however briefly—from his wife and child?
