"Erm— your Highness… es." One of my newer councilmen interjects, "we have not hosted anyone here… much less the heads of different— er um, w-well, it’s been many years."
I rub my fingers across my browbone. "I'm well aware of what we have and haven’t done, and I’m aware of exactly how long it’s been since we’ve done it. While I abhor change even on a good day, our hands are tied. Unless you all want to live underneath Baelor and Eiser’s thumbs."
They continue their tabletop debates when Rorin's first in command pipes up, "just to make sure I'm understanding — as I'm sure everyone else is,"
"Get on with it." I grit.
"You want to have everyone in attendance — the heads of three different clans, the Consul of Suram—”
“And the King of Sorrel, yes.” The room grows silent; their arguments cease as they all stare at me, horrified. “I'm working on my people skills." I finish, and Max snorts from over in his corner. Unfortunately, I’m too busy watching the guard sputter, “was there something confusing about what I said,Mousy?"
He scoffs, "yes. Many things actually."
I open my mouth to respond and feel a rough palm clasp onto my shoulder, "thank you all for your input. I believe the Queen and I have some things to discuss to arrange this."Pushover."Please wait for our instructions."
Rorin motions for the council to be dismissed and starts to pull me backwards into him. With the heavy click of the doors shutting, he spins me around until my ass is up against the table, his molten hazel stare boring into me. "When — exactly — were you planning on telling me this part of the plan?"
I sigh, folding my arms over my chest, ignoring the way his weighted stare makes me squirm. "Clearly, I had planned for you to find out now."
"Eveera." He growls.
"I barely decided before the meeting was called."
His eyes soften, but his tone doesn't, "you should have called me in first." I push out of his hold, pacing along the back wall.
“So you have mentioned.”
“Ah—nightmare.” He croons, and I halt in my steps, turning slowly over my shoulder.
Rorin looks apologetically at me, and I can't take it. I can't take thatlook.The one that shows me how fragile they all see me. Like I'm one straw from breaking. "Stop it," I growl. "Don't look at me the same way thattheydo."
"Like who?" He takes a step forward, and my tendrils leak out of my palms, pooling around my feet and creating a barrier.
"The same way my council does, like Felix, ha— even Armond looks at me that way now. As if I'm glass, I'mnotglass." Rorin opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with an incredulous laugh bubbling out of me, "the Queen of Nightmares — thehellish, unruly bitch queen, who hides herself from the world. Obsidian's ‘best-kept secret.’ They couldn't decidewhatthey wanted when I stepped out from the dark. They didn't know what they'd created or how to handle my strength. They all wanted a ruler, but when I try to be that, they fight me every step of the way."
"I'm not fighting you." He interjects.
"Aren't you? By demanding that I share all of my decisions with you? Because it'll make us seem like a united front? We are not currently a united front. We are— well, I don't know what we are right now. But united is far from it."
Rorin lets out a long breath, his hand rubbing against the stubble growing on his chin, "what do you need from me?"
"I need you to trust that I know what I am doing. I am thequeenof Obsidian; nothing will stand in the way of me being that. If that means I clean house on this council, I will."
"So we're playing host."
I nod, "we're playing host."
It's going to take a few days to sort out all of the arrangements. Where they'll sleep, what they'll eat. While the Consul and hopefully King Eloden will have no travel time thanks to the portals, we'll have to wait to receive the leaders in the Vast.
I'd had Armond send off our best riders from each of the clans to act as our liaisons, and now I wait again.
The wind bites at my cheeks as Vada flies through the night, the stars above me clear at this height with the clouds underneath us. I lay myself back between her scales, letting the heat of her combat the chill of the air. When I'd told her about offering to host five diplomatic heads, she — like everyone else seemed to — threw a fit.
I was afraid she would burn me right there in my throne room if I didn't agree to go out with her.
So here we are, flying in tense, awkward silence.
Her body takes a sharp dive, and I slide, grappling furiously at the spikes jutting out from her spine."Easy there."
