“We meet again, Your Majesties,” Sylva said, bowing low. Her two companions bowed as well, though likely more from fear than respect.
Veyka did not stand on ceremony. “Thank you for giving refuge to our civilians,” she said, her sigh heavy and her tone genuine.
“We did not have much choice,” the councilman bit back. Stupid and afraid, then.
Veyka did not take the bait. She planted one hand on each hip and addressed the man directly. “You could have died. Once, I would have rather given myself to the succubus than accept the help of a human. Let alone ask for it.” She bowed her head to each of the remaining council members. “You have our thanks.”
There were murmured platitudes that Veyka met with a nod.
Arran took his queen’s arm. “Lyrena and Guinevere will remain behind in Eldermist to see the refugees settled. We cannot linger.” He was already turning to where the rift had been.
“Call on the communication crystals when you’re ready to come back to Eilean Gayl,” Veyka said to Gwen. Lyrena was with the refugees, her familiar Goldstones uniform no doubt giving some solace to the ragged bunch.
Veyka had almost caught up with Arran. Once she reached him, they’d disappear into the void. This was her only chance.
“I am not going back.”
The humans could not hear Arran’s beast growl. Neither could Gwen, not really. But she could feel the pulse of magic rolling off him. Several people nearby paused, casting wary glances their way, some ancient sense alerting them to the danger that wave of power represented.
Gwen stood her ground, even as Arran snarled, “Your place is at the queen’s side. You made a vow when you became a Goldstone Guard.”
Her hand fell to the belt at her waist, a wide swath of leather plated with goldstone. It was one of the few pieces of the uniform that Gwen had opted to wear. While Lyrena wore every single ostentatious piece available, none was technically required. Armor was not what made her worthy or marked her as Veyka’s personal guard. It was her deeds.
Gwen angled her chin with every bit of imperious command she’d learned, both from her father and from Arran himself. “I do not wish to break my vow. But I know myself and how I can best serve my queen.”
The sharp pitch of Veyka’s elbow into Arran’s side cut off whatever angry words rose to his lips. He turned those murderous black eyes on Veyka. As usual, the queen was unmoved.
“Make your arguments,” Veyka said, staring at Gwen intently.
“The humans are an untapped resource.”
“They are not effective against the succubus,” Arran cut in. A human woman coming out of the door of a darkened shop flew back inside at the sound of his harsh voice.
Gwen gritted her teeth. That woman would tell her friends about the brutal barbs the fae royals exchanged freely in the village square. It would make it even harder to rally the humans. But Gwen pressed on, though her voice was lower.
“Not scattered and divided as they are. But if there are enough of them, it becomes a matter of numbers.” She’d seen in Baylaur just how many fae it took to bring down a single succubus. It would take at least twice as many humans. But that morbid calculation did not change her stance.
Arran made those same calculations. Of course; he was the one who’d taught her the importance of understanding the deadliness of the enemy.
“You’d sacrifice the humans as chattel for your own revenge.”
Once, maybe, Gwen could admit to herself. But not now.
“I would work to unite them in common purpose. To share what we know as an act of goodwill and to teach them how to defend themselves as best they can,” she explained, struggling to keep her voice calm. The composure that she’d spent over a hundred years honing, to prepare herself to rule Annwyn, had deserted her during the siege of Baylaur. This plan had come to her in the night after their escape, alone in the darkest, tallest tower of Eilean Gayl.
Veyka’s hands tightened and then relaxed around the hilts of her daggers, belted in their scabbards at her waist.
“The succubus will come for them either way. At least if they are trained and organized into an army, the humans might manage to take a few succubus with them,” she said.
Something like relief rose up in Gwen’s chest. Arran stepped between the two females, intent upon squashing it.
“Leave someone else to do this,” he commanded. “We need you.”
Gwen heard the words he did not say.I need you.
To defeat the succubus. To protect Veyka. To stop the queen from sacrificing herself to save Annwyn. But Gwen could not do any of those things; not as well as she could do this. She knew it would feel like a betrayal to the male who had trained her, whose side she’d served at for more than a hundred years.
She held his gaze as she spoke. “I already have the trust of their leader, Sylva.”
