My Wield snaps out, cutting off her words, the willowy princess's face beginning to turn blue as she gasps for air.
"Rorin," Will calls out, Bennett and Millie's voices following suit. The sounds of my name mingle with the laughter coming from Max's corner, but none of them can break through my focus.
Pruella’s skin starts to twist into an ugly shade of purple when I feel the softness of a familiar hand grab hold of mine.
"Rorin…"
My Wield falters at her voice, spearing through the darkness that consumes me/ Pruella collapses against the stone table — Will rushing over to her side.
Ever the fucking nobleman.I think bitterly, but when our eyes meet, regret fills my stomach at having thought it at all. He stares at me hopelessly, his head shaking slightly as he helps the girl back into her chair. She's clutching her chest and throat while taking in deep gulps of air.
"Well—" Eveera sighs, "this meeting has taken an interesting turn."
I can't help the bitter scoff that escapes me at the same time one of our councilmen clears his throat, "a-hem…" He starts tentatively, "how exactly can we guarantee that kings will arrive peacefully?"
She shrugs, "I can't." A few gasps circle the room, "but, if he wants hispetof a daughter back in his greasy grip while still in one piece — he'll cooperate." Her stare weighs onto the still purple-tinged royal, "Pruella is aware of how…possessiveher father is about his trinkets. I'd be willing to bet he'll do just about anything to get back his prized item."
There's a twinge of guilt that pangs through me when I see her shudder at the thought.So, different from how she was around him in Vellar…I muse, while wondering — which side of her story is true? Doting daughter trying to play us, or tormented daughter trying to be saved by us?
Eveera's voice brings my attention back as she finishes her address to the council. “I forgot to mention – they’re not the only royals I’ll be meeting with.” Even I’m surprised to hear it, my chin angling to watch her stand, “requests to join me here in Obsidian’s court have already been sent to Suram’s Consul and Sorrel’s king.
The men and women surrounding us murmur, their tones a blend of confusion and panic.
“Can I ask, why?” Felix cuts in.
“Well, I had to come up with a backup plan in case my first one doesn’t work, didn’t I?” His brows lift, but no one challenges her, the group of them filing out of the room quickly.
Millie reaches for the princess, and Will slaps her hand away, quietly insisting that he will get her back to whatever room she is now being kept in.
Through the seal, I feel Eveera’s anxiousness pick up, and from my peripheral vision, I catch her hand drifting towards her wrist to scratch. My arm flies out, grabbing hold of her fingers before they have a chance to irritate the scars already left behind.
She holds her breath and my fingers until she watches the last member disappear through the doors. Her chest caves as she lets out the air, keeping her eyes squeezed shut, and her head dropping back to face the ceiling.
I give her the few moments of quiet to sort through the turmoil that I know she needs — and rise from my seat to stand shoulder to shoulder. Her chest rattles with a soft sob, and I give her that moment too, my fingers lacing with hers.
When she finally lifts her head, her emotions are wiped aggressively off her face, honing her attention in on where Pruella had been standing. "You almost killed her."
"She would have deserved it."
Eveera
SNAP! SNAP!
Armond's rough fingers click in front of my face, forcing me to look at my guard, confusion etched in his features. This war has aged all of us, but it's showing more prevalently on him. His beard has more gray in it, his hair has grown out more, and the frown lines between his brows have deepened. “Eveera?”
"I'm sorry? What was the question?"
His head tilts to the right, studying me, "the council wants to know, with yourplan… if we should move forward on retrieving the new soldiers from the clans." He repeats.
I nod, and Armond starts to turn on his, and panic fills my chest, “Armond!”
"Your Highness?'
“Don’t send anyone to retrieve the soldiers; have the soldiers come to us. Have everyone come to us; invite themall. ” I blurt out.
It's a ridiculous idea — I know that. But if I'm to bediplomatic,if I am to win this war and use their resources to aid in doing it, then I need to put a good foot forward and show them that this relationship will be symbiotic for all of us. "Invite them," I reiterate.
"Invite… who?"
