I will my voice level. ‘Earlier, you informed us your clansmen counselled against you coming here. Well, there are those who warned me against inviting Oralia to this meeting – history has revealed your people to be treacherous. But I saw fit to give you the benefit of the doubt.’ Blayze’s nostrils flare but he doesn’t interrupt me. ‘I heard reports your forefathers suppressed insurgents loyal to Arden’s cause. Your own father, if I’m not mistaken, led successful campaigns against them? I hoped you’d follow his example, embrace the opportunity to right her terrible wrongdoing. Absolve your people of generational shame. Was I wrong? I’d be disappointed to find you’re not your father’s equal.’
Blayze remains outwardly composed, but chews faster on whatever that piece of bark is, chafes the signet ring on his right pinkie. Like his cloak pins, it bears the sigil of the Sacred Flame. ‘I have more honour in my little finger than you have in your entire soiled body,’ he hisses.
I ignore the slur. ‘I give you my word the information we’ve presented in this chamber is the truth. We’ve no hidden agenda. There’s no conspiracy.’
I lie so smoothly. Perhaps there’s more of my father in me than I care to admit.
We stare each other down. The tension is palpable, like a bow slowly drawn, the arrow nocked, ready to fly. Blayze isn’t softening and the room is against me.
I’ll counter the lie with a truth, then. Try to earn their trust that way.
‘The wards grow thin. Estelia teeters on the brink of catastrophe – of mass extinction.’ I’m speaking fast, my voice higher than I’d like. ‘Our time has come. Our chance to make a difference. Noelani’s letter leaves many questions unanswered; I’ll not try to convince you otherwise.’ I clear my throat, dart my tongue over my top lip. ‘But it’s time to acknowledge we face a shared problem, and we must find the answers to that problem together, or not at all. Surely, an imperfect chance of ending this curse is better than no chance at all? I’m asking you to set aside prejudice for that chance, for that hope.’
I look at the delegations in turn. ‘Once you’ve arrived at your decision, ring the bell closest to you. Once all the bells have sounded, you may take turns to address the Council and inform us of your choice.’
After an interminable moment, Blayze sits down, swearing under his breath. The others begin their deliberations.
I resume my seat. I’ve got them to consider the proposal. It’s out of my hands now. I settle back against the stone bench and await the judgement of the bells.
*
CARMENTISRISESFIRST. She rings the bell behind her, and a high-pitched chime fills the Rotunda. The Riverians take another half-hour to arrive at their decision. The Oralians remain locked in tense negotiations.
It’s clear from the fragments of conversation I can overhear that Kyden’s opposed to an alliance. Their whispering grows increasingly heated, littered with violent gesticulations and guttural words I can’t understand.
At last Blayze stands and rings his nearest bell, his face inscrutable.
What’s the point of being a Seer, if I’m never to see anything important?
As the peals of that final bell echo the Rotunda, Carmentis stands to address us. I reach for the starstone, its pulse so steady compared to my own heart’s wild stutter, and lean into the comfort of its even rhythm.
‘You gave moving testimony, Princess, when you spoke about the fate of your realm. I wish I could tell you the situation in Xylia is less grave.’ Carmentis shakes her head. ‘I’ve been blessed with long life, but with that blessing comes the burden of witnessing the destruction of the land I love: our forests blighted, floods ravaging the earth, our peoples and creatures displaced.’ She looks every sunring of her venerable age, as she dabs her eyes.
‘Tonight, you offer hope – the first ray of hope since Arden plunged us into darkness. Xylia will gladly assist in your search for the lost sceptre.’
I place my hands over my heart, and dip my head, solemnising my debt of gratitude. Astrophel stiffens. He refuses to bow. Just folds his arms tight across his chest.
‘I’m too old to travel with you. Tansy will go in my stead, and Briar, the sylvanmare who carried me to your lands, shall accompany her, as sworn Guardian to our grove. Tansy’s skill in the healing arts will be invaluable, and she’s an expert tracker too.’ Carmentis resumes her seat, places a wizened hand on Tansy’s shoulder. ‘I’m grateful for her sacrifice. She leaves behind her heartmate and two infant children to make this journey.’
Guilt creeps under my skin. I might be one step closer to securing my own freedom, to ending my mother’s suffering, but I’m tearing other families apart.
Tansy’s face crumples and Glade enfolds her in his arms. He kisses her. I watch their mouths meld together and can’t look away. I’ve never witnessed such a kiss before, but it’s not the sensuality that’s shocking, rather the intimacy.
My embarrassment is made all the worse because Astrophel is sitting beside me – the man I’m supposed to bind myself to at the next Flowering Moons, the man I’ve never kissed. The scant inches of propriety space between us are suddenly a yawning chasm, yet I’m also hyperaware of his nearness, wishing him miles away.
An aura shimmers between Tansy and Glade. It reveals itself slowly, growing in intensity until a sunshine-bright halo encircles them. Their bond is so different from the cold unions of convenience I’m used to seeing at court, different even from my parents’. Where their affection was born from shared pain and shared values, the connection between Tansy and Glade is something else entirely: true kinship of spirit.
I didn’t know such a thing was possible.
Astrophel shuffles in his seat. He’s scowling, arms still tightly crossed. My second-sight shifts to encompass his mood too. A jagged blood-red aura.
For the first time, I fully appreciate what I’ll be giving up by going through with the forced binding. The chance to find someone to truly share myself with.
‘Be careful,’Orthriel cautions.‘I’ve told you before your resemblance to Noelani runs more than skin deep, that you’re in danger of similar lapses in judgement. Love is dangerous– not to be trusted.’
‘Is that why you’re determined to see me bound to Astrophel? Even though you know it’s not what I want?’
Orthriel sighs.‘I’ve seen the other side of the choice you would make, and it isn’t pretty. Love isn’t always good for you.’They look like they could say more, but something holds them back.
