Rohannes looked up and caught Jesenia’s gaze. She didn’t smile, but nodded once at him in acknowledgement.
NINE
Night had fallenheavy over Solmiris. The palace glowed like a dying ember in the distance. Its marble halls were half-lit, its golden windows reflecting a light that no longer felt divine.
Val-Theris sat alone in his council chamber, sleeves rolled up, fingers tracing the edge of an untouched parchment. He had dismissed the court hours ago but hadn’t moved since.
When the doors opened after a brief knock, he didn’t look up.
“Report,” he said simply.
Rohannes entered, his boots clicking softly against the marble. His armor was unpolished, his face still dusted with the grit of the refugee quarter he had spent the last week in. He stopped a few paces away. “The sentence was carried out as ordered.”
“And?”
Rohannes hesitated, unsure where to begin. Finally, he said, “We worked the entire week. Fed the sick. Buried the dead. Slept among the refugees. Lady Jesenia led us herself.”
Her name drew Val-Theris’s gaze. “She led you?”
“Aye,” Rohannes said. “From the moment we arrived until the last day ended.”
Val-Theris leaned back slowly in his chair, the faintest flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or even disbelief. “And she didn’t…retaliate?”
Rohannes shook his head. “Not once. No anger, no pride. She spoke to us like equals. Like…students, almost.” He paused, thinking. “She showed us what compassion looks like better than anyone I’ve ever met, Majesty.”
The king rose from his chair and crossed the room, his shadow stretching long across the stone floor. He stopped by the window, looking out over the distant glow of the lower city. Faint, golden, flickering with the small fires of the refugee camps.
“She’s teaching my men mercy,” he murmured. “While I sit here debating how to enforce it.”
Rohannes tilted his head slightly. Val-Theris turned, the light from the braziers catching on the gold of his hair, the exhaustion in his eyes more profound than usual.
“She has no title,” he said quietly. “No wealth, no station, no voice within these walls. And yet, when she speaks, people listen. They obey.”
He stepped away from the window, pacing slowly, his thoughts spilling into words almost without meaning to. “I thought mercy was something to be enforced. A law of the crown. But she—” He exhaled. “She carries it as if it’s her duty.”
Rohannes allowed himself a faint smile. “You sound jealous.”
Val-Theris’s lips curved faintly. “Perhaps I am.” He turned back to the desk and rested both hands upon it, the flickering light from the candles gilding the edges of his wings. “Tomorrow,” he said finally. “I will summon the council for a special session.”
Rohannes frowned. “Majesty?”
“I will offer Jesenia of Lunareth a seat among them to speak for her people.”
Rohannes’s brows lifted slightly. “They’ll protest.” Val-Theris hummed in acknowledgement and sank back into his chair. “Do you think she’ll accept?” Rohannes asked.
Val-Theris did not look up. “Not at first. She’ll tell me she’s not made for courts or councils. That she’s no one important.” He paused, gaze distant. “But she’ll come,” he said softly. “Because she can’t stand to see suffering and stay silent when she has the chance to change it.”
The council chambersmelled faintly of beeswax and light smoke from the cigars hanging from the mouths of Seraveth’s most influential men. The marble floors reflected soft ribbons of light, but the air was heavy—always weighed down by the never-ending divisiveness of old arguments.
Val-Theris stood at the far end of the table, pale wings folded tight against his back as the council spoke over one another in restless waves of frustration.
As king, Val-Theris had the right to open the meeting with whichever issue he chose, though he rarely exercised that right. But with the Lunarethian’s within their walls, he felt it pressing to do something to ease their suffering. He could not propose rations or shelter—his councilmen would never allow it, but he had come up with a plan that involved neither.
“I will be taking the Angelicus Prime to Korvath to negotiate a ceasefire with Val-Oros,” Val-Theris said to the chamber, which had grown silent when he began to speak. “It is my intention to ask him to remove his men from the Lunarethian region so that its people may return home.”
There was little pushback from the councilors at this proposal, and the matter was settled. But Val-Theris knew his next proposal would alight infighting the chamber had not seen in decades.
“Secondly,” he began, “Until a time comes when the refugees can return to their homes, they should have a seat at this table. I have decided I will offer the position to Jesenia of Lunareth, who has shown a great deal of loyalty and respect to the people of Solmiris, and to me.”
