"And your father? We have nothing that he wants."
Rorin snorts, his hazel eyes rolling back into his head, "Please. My father wants the security of Hadar's Guards; he'll be trailing after him like a mutt on a scent. You want him dead, and Baelor has no need for a spare king — I don't really think he'll be much of an issue."
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and bite at the split skin there. Through my lashes, I watch as Rorin's hand moves, reaching up to brush a stray curl behind my ear. His finger trails down my cheek, and absentmindedly, I lean into it.
He sighs, “from the moment I met you, Eveera, you have never allowed your fear to rule over you. Not your mind or your Wield. Why now?"
A weak, defeated laugh slips past my lips, and he pulls me into his lap, his chin dropping down on top of my head as I settle in the crook against his collarbone. "I've never felt so helpless, so useless, as I did when Ezra had me.” He tenses at the name, squeezing his arms tighter around my body, "I thought once the shackles were off that that would disappear, but I'm here and…"
"And?"
"And I feel like a stranger in my own home."
Before you enter a battle, there’s a brief moment where you feel invincible — as if nothing can really touch you. Then the battle begins, and you realize that your skin is no stronger than paper, your bones no harder to break than glass, and a sword can cut you down just as easily as anyone else.
Now, as I sit here on my throne waiting for our guests to be brought in, I feel as vulnerable as I do in battle.
The Consul arrived today through the portals, and tomorrow he’ll be joined by the leaders from each Vast clan. The only royal we haven't received word from is King Eloden, and judging by what I know? Rorin’s dealings while on his soil may have already cost us the alliance.
THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!
One. Greet, discuss, get them to sign, and kick them out. Two. Greet, discuss, get them to sign, and kick them out. Three…
“Eveera—” Felix’s voice cuts through my mantra, and I lift my head to see him looking down urgently. “They’re waiting.”
Oh, shit.
Quickly, I motion for the guards to open the doors, the heavy wood groaning loudly as they do so.No going back now.I think to myself, flexing my hands in and out before setting them back down on the edge of my armrests.
“PRESENTING THE CONSUL GENERAL OF SURAM, GENERAL IMIR AND HIS COMPANION, CAZ RAHAL.”
Armond and Bennett walk in first, leading the men all the way to the bottom of my dais.
"Gentlemen," Felix throws his arms out, a grin spreading across his cheeks, "welcome to the Court of Oriya."
The General andCazeach dip their chin in reverence to him first, and I feel my chest tighten as their heads slowly swing to look at Rorin and me next.
"Remember who you are — you're the queen of Obsidian. Do not be afraid to show them what that means.”Vada growls into my mind.
General Imir climbs onto the bottom step, clasping his hands behind his back, “I’ll admit… I was surprised to receive the invitation. Surprised to hear that the Queen of Obsidian had requested an audience with me. Though I guess an invitationwaswarranted after allowing you to use our portal some weeks ago."
Caz's expression goes from focused to mortified in an instant at the general's boldness. I tilt my head, looking over the strange man, while trying to find the right words, when Rorin speaks up, “we cannot express our gratitude enough for thatfavor."
"Regrettable circumstances, of course — your time in Sabel."
My stomach drops at the reminder,remember you want their assistance…my conscience chides, while I squash down the magic buzzing underneath my skin. "I've grown tired of this room," I announce, pushing up and out of my seat. "Court formalities are a bore in my opinion, especially when we've much more important things to discuss."
General Imir's dark eyes spark at the insinuation, and Felix steps off the dais, motioning for the two of them to follow him. I hold my composure until the second the heavy doors close. My shoulders slump forward, and my hands find their way to my temples.
"You did well," Rorin compliments, his coarse palms dropping down onto my exposed shoulders, rubbing up and down.
"That was only the first five minutes.” I groan, stepping heavily down the steps. “We have days of this and by the end of it — I'm sure you'll be eating those words."
The two of us slip into the narrow passageway, following its winds and weaves all the way down until we reach the door that leads into my council room.
A few feet shy of it, my feet come to a halt, the scars on my wrist beginning to itch while my self-doubt creeps in again.
I feel Rorin’s chest brush against my exposed back, and I swallow thickly, his scent wrapping around me. "Nightmare?" He brushes his cool fingers down the column of my neck, moving the curls out of his way to clasp his palms around thetops of my shoulders. My eyes flick to the ceiling, wanting to fight the urge to sink into him, but I fail, my head dropping back.
