“You speak like someone who’s never ruled,” he said finally, his tone cutting. “You don’t understand what’s at stake.”
“I understand hunger,” she shot back. “I understand watching people die because no one in power cares enough to stop it!”
He raised his voice. Something he’d never done to her before. “You’re being unreasonable.”
Her breath caught. “Unreasonable?”
“Yes,” he said, the word sharp as glass. “You’re letting your heart blind you to what must be done. This is not the time to let your emotions get in the way.”
The air left the room. Jesenia’s lips parted, but no sound came. He knew, instantly, what he’d said—that it was the samewords the council had used against her, the same insult that stripped her of her voice in that chamber time and time again.
Emotional. Unreasonable. Ignorant.
She blinked rapidly, tears stinging her eyes. “I see,” she whispered.
“Jesenia—”
“No.” She shook her head, stepping back. “You’ve made yourself clear.” She turned and walked toward the door, her steps soft against the marble.
“Jesenia, please?—”
But she was gone. The door closed quietly behind her, but to Val-Theris, it might as well have been the sound of a blade sinking into his chest. He stood there for a long time, hands trembling at his sides, staring at the door she’d just walked through.
What have I done? he thought to himself. The silence stretched until a voice broke it.
“She’s right, you know.”
Val-Theris turned sharply. Rohannes stood by one of the pillars near the door, his expression unreadable. “You heard,” the king said.
“I hear everything,” Rohannes replied. “As is my job.”
Val-Theris exhaled, pressing his hand to his temple. “Was I too harsh?”
Rohannes hesitated before answering. “No. You were honest. And you were not wrong—feeding the Lunarethians without the council’s consent would start a civil war.”
Val-Theris looked at him, eyes hollow. “And yet?”
“And yet,” Rohannes said quietly, “she wasn’t wrong either.”
Val-Theris turned away, his shoulders heavy. “Do you ever tire of reminding me that I am both a savior and an executioner?”
Rohannes smiled faintly. “Every day, Majesty.”
He stepped forward, laying a steady hand on his King’s arm. “She’ll forgive you. She always does.”
Val-Theris didn’t answer, for he wasn’t sure he believed it.
Meanwhile, the corridors of the palace stretched endlessly ahead of Jesenia. The gilded marble and soft torchlight that held a beauty which mocked the emptiness and helplessness inside her.
She didn’t remember how she’d gotten here. Only that one moment she’d been standing before Val-Theris, her heart breaking with every word, and the next, she was walking away because staying had hurt too much.
Her footsteps echoed softly. She passed the carved archways, the murals of angels and kings, the gold-leafed symbols of divine grace. They seemed hollow now, like paintings made for people blind to the reality of the world they live in.
When she reached her chambers, she shut the door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes. For a long while, she didn’t move. The silence pressed against her ears until she could hear her own heartbeat, uneven and fast.
Outside, Solmiris glittered under the night sky, a city of light and gold.
But from where she stood, it was only a false reflection; the glow of lanterns hiding the hunger in the streets below.
