“He can still marry Dasha, even if he’s fated to another,” Iaoth pointed out
Rage crackled in my veins. The tips of my fingers bit into my arms.
Calm yourself, Vaeron. Get a grip. Emotion is weakness. The stakes are too high right now to lose control.
A cruel smile spread across Stadiel’s lips. “Aye, he can.”
“Legally speaking yes,” I managed to grit out. “But spiritually? Our Radiant Mother bound me to Sylaira. I for one am not willing to risk her wrath. Especially not when we are so close to defeating the Demons.”
Iaoth pouted and popped out a hip. “He has a point. We can’t risk our holy war.”
“And we can’t risk a rebellion or assassination attempt from House Elyriane,” Stadiel snapped, shoving the papers back into Iaoth’s hands. “So tell me,wife, how am I supposed to win on both fronts? I could always rewrite our laws to allow for polygamy. After all, many of my predecessors had multiple wives when the first appeared to be barren.”
Iaoth flinched like she’d been slapped. I almost pitied her. Almost.
It wasn’t her fault that our father had thrust her into Stadiel’s arms, over a decade away from coming of age. That he had dangled promises neither of us could fully deliver in front of the newly-crowned Koron’s face.
My sister looked to me, eyes beseeching me to help her. But I had a singular priority, and she wasn’t it. Not anymore.
“We promise our firstborn daughter to be his to wed.” The words burst out of her in a frantic wave. “And Dasha can be the next queen, after I bear you a son.”
She stepped in front of him, running a nail down his chest and all the way to his lower abdomen. “I know with the stress of everything lately, we haven’t had as much time together. But we can always make more…”
I stood there, bearing witness to Iaoth’s desperate attempts at seduction. It was all she’d ever known how to do to garner his attention. She’d never had the chance to experience anything else.
Stadiel’s nostrils flared as her hand dipped lower, out of sight to me. “If he’ll accept such an arrangement. There’s no telling what he wants now. Especially since you Commanded then struck him, Vaeron.”
“Let’s fetch him and ask,” Iaoth suggested, her tone breathy and distressed.
Stadiel whistled, and the door swung open.
“Yes, Your Grace?” a royal sentinel asked.
“Bring Herr Elyriane.”
“Right away, sir.”
The male disappeared, leaving the three of us facing off and with tension thick enough to slice with a sword.
Still I did not move. Did not surrender my position in the middle of the space. The monarchs, however, settled themselves in all their finery on their luxurious furnishings. I’d seen them situate themselves like this before, when they needed to flex their rule to any who dared challenge them.
Sylaira’s presence pressed against the barricade I’d erected before entering. Yet I kept her out. She didn’t need to hear this. Iwanted to be the one to tell her what happened myself. I took comfort in the fact she was thinking about me at all.
It hadn’t always been that way.
Would it be any different after?
It wasn’t long before Zarethiel appeared. I didn’t deign to look at him as he approached and knelt at my sister’s feet. “Your Radiance. How may I be of service?”
“Rise,” Stadiel instructed, and his noble did, but not without shooting me a sneer. “Your daughter was promised to the Issaraeth, which by the Goddess’s divine law, can no longer continue. With their vows mere weeks away, we understand this puts all of us in an awkward position.”
Silence lingered as the ruler of all the Angels regarded my almost father-by-law. He made no move to speak.
Smart.
Forcing Stadiel to say what he meant would put him in an advantageous position.
“We are wondering what might save your pride,” Iaoth eventually added. “As one of our most valuable allies here at court, we of course want to ensure you are happy with whatever happens next. Might I suggest a new marriage alliance? Our children to yours?”
