I took the tea with a scowl, but the warmth of the mug against my hands was an instant balm.
“You wanted to talk,” I said. “So, talk.”
He set his own glass down untouched. “Heliconia sent an offer.”
I folded my arms. “Let me guess. Marriage.”
He smiled faintly. “You’re still quick to recognize politics.”
“I’m still sane enough to see through her games. Why tell me?”
His amusement vanished, replaced by a darkening cloud behind his gaze. “Because if I refuse, she marches on the Autumn Court. She’s already taken villages on the northern border—frosted fields, frozen bodies. I’ve seen the destruction, and...” He swallowed hard, his gaze suddenly not quite meeting my own. “I can’t stop her alone.”
“I’m sorry, can you say that last part again?” I asked sweetly.
“Don’t be immature about this.”
“It’s my ears. There’s so much water in them I didn’t hear you.”
He groaned. “I don’t know why I expected more of you than this.”
I set the tea aside, embracing the chill. “Considering you used persuasion to manipulate me into agreeing to marry you when you had every intention of draining me of my magic in order to make your crops grow, I can’t imagine why you’d think I’d make anything easy for you ever again.”
“Look, we both want the same thing?—”
“I’m not sure we do, Callan.” I took a step toward him. “You want to rule a realm that will bow and kneel and praise your greatness. Heliconia stands in the way of that, and that makes her your enemy. But if she had never set her sights on your kingdom, would you still be here in this tent, asking for my help in stopping her? Or would you do what your father did, turning a blind eye to everything that didn’t impact him directly?”
His jaw hardened, a muscle working back and forth as hestared me down. Part of me wondered if he’d throw me out. Or arrest me. Though I wasn’t sure the Withered would obey that order. Instead, he sighed and slumped into the chair next to the brazier. “I don’t want to be my father,” he said, “But I’m not sure who I do want to be, either.”
I studied him, again noticing the dark circles. The fact that he’d lost weight. “Honesty is a good place to start,” I said at last.
His gaze darted to mine again, hope written clearly there.
“Why do you think I can help you?” I asked. “As you can see, my army isn’t exactly vast.”
“Is that why you went to see King Patamoi? For soldiers? And did he offer his naiad army to the Chosen One?”
I didn’t answer, and Callan seemed to realize pressing me wouldn’t work.
Instead, he said, “I met with Heliconia.”
I blinked. “You saw her? When?”
“Two nights ago. At a village near the Concordian Mountains—or what’s left of it. She made me an offer.”
“I can’t believe she wants to wed you.”
His brow rose. “Apparently, you’re the only one who finds that idea repulsive.”
“I meant, why bother with diplomacy?” I said wryly. “You said she has an army ready to invade your kingdom. She’s already proven they can defeat you and that she prefers violence over peace. It doesn’t make sense.”
“When she proposed it the first time, my father said she wanted to use marriage to legitimize her title with the other courts.”
“But why would she care what they think when she plans to invade and destroy them too?”
He frowned. “What do you know about the Harvest Throne?”
“The seat itself?” I asked. “It was fashioned from anancient oak tree taken from Vorinthia and fused with the horn of a Vorinthian stag,” I said, trying to recall what my tutors had told me so many years ago. “Why?”
