Jesenia stilled, her breath catching faintly at the weight in his tone. “You speak of his foresight.”
Before she could press further, Rohannes pushed off from the fountain’s edge, sliding his helm back beneath his arm. He paused at the threshold, his back half-turned, his voice carrying softer now, almost as if to himself.
“Sometimes, Lady Jesenia, the path ahead isn’t chosen. It’s endured.”
SEVENTEEN
The council chamberwas already loud when Jesenia entered. It wasn’t filled with shouting, but with the low, grinding noise of men who believed they knew all—men who believed their cruelty justified. Voices overlapped in measured indignation, robes rustled, rings tapped impatiently against marble. The long table gleamed beneath the afternoon light, gold inlay catching against the polished stone, beautiful in a way that felt obscene when weighed against the hunger she had just walked through to get here.
Val-Theris stood at the head of the chamber, wings folded tight behind him, expression carefully neutral. He did not look at her when she entered, though she felt the subtle shift in his posture—the acknowledgment that she was there.
She took her place at the table to his right, hands folded, shawl drawn close.
“The unrest in the lower districts is no longer contained,” Councilor Varin said, his voice smooth with displeasure. “The ration lines were disrupted this morning. A guard injured. Another nearly stabbed. The people grow bold.”
“That is a lie!” Jesenia said before she could stop herself. “My people have never hurt any of your citizens. It isyourpeople who incite the unrest.”
The room went still. Jesenia had never spoken so boldly before, but she was irritated with the council and pacifism did not mean she had endless patience.
Varin’s mouth curled faintly. “Ah. The Lunarethian speaks.”
Jesenia straightened. “My people stood in line as they always do. Some of them were turned away after hours of waiting. Mothers with children. Elderly men who can no longer stand for long periods. If desperation looks like boldness to you, perhaps you have forgotten what hunger does to the body.”
A murmur rippled through the chamber. Another councilor leaned forward, palms pressed flat against the table. “We cannot continue diverting supplies to the quarter at the expense of our own citizens.”
“They are under your protection now. Does that mean nothing?”
“It means they are guests,” Varin snapped. “And guests do not dictate the household.”
Val-Theris lifted a hand. “Enough.” The room quieted, but the tension did not lift. “We are here to discuss solutions,” he said evenly. “Not to assign blame.”
“With respect, Majesty,” another councilor interjected, “the solution is obvious. We limit rations further until order is restored.”
The words hit Jesenia like a physical blow. She stood, heart hammering. “You would starve them into silence?”
Several heads turned. One man laughed softly, without humor. “They are already starving,” he said. “We would simply…hasten compliance.”
Val-Theris’s wings twitched. “That will not happen,” he said, voice quiet and firm.
Varin raised a brow. “Then perhaps Your Majesty would like to explain how we are to feed these guests without stealing from Seraveth’s mouths?”
“There are surplus stores in the eastern granaries,” Jesenia said quickly. “You know this. I’ve seen the ledgers. There are less than ninety Lunarethians within your walls. I am not asking you to feed an army, I am begging you to show some humanity to people who have lost everything.”
“You have seen no such thing,” Varin cut in sharply. “You are not a councilor. You do not have the authority to view those records.”
“She reviewed the documents with my permission,” Val-Theris said.
The room stiffened.
“And therein lies the problem,” Varin replied calmly. “You give her leave. You walk among her people. You listen to her counsel. The city sees this, Majesty. They whisper. They ask why a foreign woman is granted the ear of a god while citizens born beneath your banners go unheard.”
Jesenia felt her chest tighten. “You think this is aboutme,” she said, incredulous. “While children are starving in your streets?”
“It is about perception,” Varin said coolly. “And perception governs loyalty.”
Val-Theris said nothing. Jesenia turned to him, disbelief creeping into her voice, then looked back to Varin. “You can open the granaries today. Even temporarily. Even just until winter?—”
“And what happens after winter thaws?” another councilor demanded. “And the day after? When the people realize all they must do to bend the crown is riot loudly enough?”
