Rorin
The court's been in chaos since Eveera let the council know her plan.
Staff running around, council members arguing in the halls, and what's left of our personal guards have abandoned us to train with the rest of our ranks. And I've been waiting — waiting each night for her to return to me, covered in dirt, sweat, and blood.
She won't offer up the details, but I know she's out there, trying tocontrolthem, and that I had to quickly get on board with it.
I need you to trust that I know what I am doing. I am the queen of Obsidian; nothing will stand in the way of me being that.Her words echo in my mind.Nothingwill stand in her way — including me. So to ease my nerves, I pace back and forth,wearing a hole in the stone of her dais and pleading with the gods that she'll come back in one piece.
My eyes lift to the stained glass ceiling. There’s not much visibility tonight, not with how the clouds are blanketed thickly above the castle, making it difficult for me to watch for her and Vada. Exhausted, I drag my fingers through my curls and slump down into her throne, the cold black rock surprisingly comfortable as I settle in.
"This is pathetic, Rorin." I snap — chastising myself.
At least she's out there being useful — what exactly do you have to offer? Or do you like being nothing more than a puppet king?My conscience adds, souring my already upset stomach. My fingers thump along the stone, and I lay my head back, keeping my eyes trained on the cloudy night sky anyway. As the clock ticks by, I hope to hear the familiar heavy beat of leathery wings, but all that comes is the elevated rhythmic thump of my heart.
"You're wasting your time." My chin snaps down, and a current of electricity crackles from the shadows.
"Max." I exhale. "How are you?"
He lets out a low laugh, the sound carrying well in the sparse throne room, as he steps into the garnet-hued light. "You're not the only one who waits up to see if she comes back,"I can see that.I think to myself, taking note of the dark circles underneath his eyes. "I wait. Armond waits. Yet neither of us helps ourselves to her throne."
My brows fly to my forehead, "Max."
"Max—"He mocks, taking a few wide steps until he stands at the bottom of the dais. His fingers dance with the energy of his Wield, and the hair on the back of my neck rises. "We were content before you got here. All of us. We werefinewith how things were. We had our own issues, sure, our own battles to fight. We didn't need to joinyours."
"Obsidian would've joined it no matter what," I say firmly, my palms clenching tight to keep my own Wield under control.
"You don't know that. Battles have been fought without reaching our doors before."
My head shakes, "I do. I have been fighting with Baelor – not to mention my father – for years before I came to Eveera, remember? I came to her as my last option — myonlyoption, to save my kingdom."
"And yet here you sit — on our queen's throne instead of your own gilded seat." He sneers, and I bite down on my tongue. I can see how tired he is — he's not alone in that. It's the same haunted look Eveera carries now, the look that comes with having killed someone you love. "Funny, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Your kingdom didn't want you wearing their crown, so you took another. But—" Max moves back into the shadows, "we don't want you either,princeling,and I won't bow to a king I don't accept."
Now, it’s my turn to laugh. My palm rubs roughly along the edge of my jaw as I stand to my full height, looking down on Eveera's man. "You're angry? Fine. You blame me? Go right ahead, I blame myself too. Every night, I see their faces—" he flinches, but I keep going, descending a step.
"If the roles were reversed and it had been Bennett, or Will, orMillie," Max’s jaw ticks at the mention of her, and I steel myself, preparing to be struck down in my place. "I don't know if I would forgive myself either. But I don't need your forgiveness or your acceptance. I only need you to stand by Eveera. To fight for and with her. To protect Eveera with your life —despiteme."
His shoulders roll back as I finish my descent, putting us only a few feet apart. "What matters is that we win this war — I won't have their deaths be in vain." Max huffs and turns away, stomping towards the exit. "Oh, and Maxwell," I call, his feetskidding to a stop. "I think I have more than proved these past few months, when I went night after night searching for mywife,that this was never about a crown."
Knock! Knock!
"Rorin?" Millie answers sleepily, her hands coming up to rub at her eyes. I push her out of the way, peeking around the room for any overnight guests. "W-what are you?" She asks, more awake now that I've nearly knocked her over.
"Is Maxwell in here?"
She coughs awkwardly and waves me in, "uh— if he were, I'm pretty sure you would know. Orseefor that matter."
"Yeah…" I mutter, spinning on the ball of my foot, "I need you to take me to Pruella." She opens her mouth to argue, but I keep going, "Max doesn't question Eveera on her demands of you, but considering he's not the biggest fan of me right now, I'm sure he'd questionmydemands."
Her lips flatten as she contemplates my words, her pupils dilating with both shock and confusion. Finally, they lift, meeting mine after what felt like one too long. "I indulge Eveera out of courtesy and friendship — I indulge you out of loyalty. She may be Max’s family, butyouare mine, so it wouldn't really be his place to have an opinion on this, would it?"
Warmth burns in my chest, and I pull her into a short, tight hug. "Quickly, before he decides to have an opinion on it anyway."Millie rolls her eyes and grabs her robe off the chair, fastening it around her waist.
She leads me through the halls towards Pruella’s new room, and the closer we get, the more my Wield taunts my self-control. Millie rounds a corner and stops short, causing me to almost crash into her rigid form. "What is it?" I hiss.
