Nismera strode in like she owned the place, her head held high and carrying Unir’s crown. Her silver hair was braided and woven into a massive bun nested atop her neck. Her dark gown clung to her curves, the gold armor shielding her shoulders, breasts, and abdomen only emphasizing her feminine beauty.
I wondered how quickly my death would be if I launched myself at her with a blade in hand. Would I actually get close enough to cut her head off? My shoulders tensed, a part of me begging to find out. Jaycee glared at me, the slight shake of her head drawing me back in.
Nismera stopped at the edge of the table, her legion continuing to file in behind her. She had brought a solid twenty soldiers, and they struggled to find space in the room. Her gaze flicked around the table, landing on each of us. She cast a small smile and a little wave, both gestures incongruous with who she was and the tension vibrating in the air.
“Please excuse my informality. I know I am not welcome, and it would be foolish not to have brought my closest and most deadly friends with me,” she said, gesturing to the soldiers behind her and emphasizing the last part ever so slightly.
“Of course,” Athos said, offering her a soft smile and waving her forward.
The two closest guards moved the chair brought in for her, allowing her to sit before pushing it in. She thanked Henri, the tallest soldier who had opened the large doors for her, and I could have sworn I saw Blayne twitch.
“Welcome to Arcelia, Nismera,” the goddess Neth said with a kind smile. We all knew it was fake, but it just made me adore her more. She sat straight, not the least bit intimidated by Nismera, and I wondered if Nismera envied her for her beauty.
In my opinion, Neth outshone all those here. Her makeup was expertly applied, with dark lips and darker eyes, and only those inexperienced wouldn’t see it for the war paint it was. Her white and gold council gown complemented her brown skin, thin gold straps wrapping around her toned arms. I watched her smile drop, revealing the steel edge in her gaze, making her seem just as dangerous as I knew she was. She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face as the meeting began.
“Your arrival is surprising, to say the least,” Athos began. “We have contacted you several times, hoping to reach some sort of peace agreement with you.”
Nismera tore her eyes from Neth before speaking. “Well, I am here now, and it is of grave importance.”
“I see a queen who has come to heel because a massive portion of her fleet has been dismantled. We’ve heard of the destruction of Milani’s ships in the south. A large portion of her armada is gone, and you’ve lost numbers,” Koa said, eyeing her thoughtfully.
The room stayed quiet, waiting for Nismera to respond. I tensed, readying myself for a crack of power to slice through the air, the precursor to an attack, but none shifted. The only indication she gave that she was annoyed was the tightening of her hands as she leaned on the council table.
“You are correct. There was an attack, but Samkiel did not decimate my fleet. Ayla did.”
The room went eerily still.
“So, you are all aware of her return to these realms?”
Athos placed her hands on the table, folding her fingers. “We are.”
“And you fear not?” Nismera asked.
“That is for us to discuss amongst ourselves,” Athos responded. “Is that why you are here? To discuss Ayla?”
Nismera stared at Athos in a silent battle of wills. “I’ll speak plainly then. We are all aware of what she is and that it is her destiny to rule alongside Samkiel. But Ayla is no longer a celestial. She is Ig’Morruthen and powerful.”
“That we are aware of, too. It’s a situation we intend to monitor.”
“Ah. Monitor.” Nismera tilted her head slightly toward Athos. “You’re all fools if you think she will follow our customs and rules. She follows none. Do you think they will follow you when they come for this throne? Her blood is Ig’Morruthen. That’s what you want to follow? Have you all forgotten the war we all so desperately fought against them? You’re not dealing with some honor-bound warrior’s idea of strategies. Ayla is no more than an animal. Only this beast surrounds herself with those who are battleworn.”
“And we should just forget the war you started?” Kreylla asked, her posture straight and relaxed. I knew Kryella feared none, content in herself and her abilities. Her magic was powerful, but her swordsmanship was stronger.
“The war I fought for my crown. One that was stolen from me by Samkiel’s birth.”
“We all know the line of ascension falls to the firstborn.”
“And I was.” Nismera smiled, but it promised nothing but death.
“Were you?” Kreylla asked, lifting her hand to pick at her nails. “Born?”
A line of muscles flexed in Nismera’s jaw, the only sign that Kryella’s barb struck a nerve. “Do you challenge my legitimacy?”
Kryella dropped her hand. “I challenge those who seek an alliance out of fear when that cause has done nothing but brutalize and subjugate others.”
“I have not,” Nismera said. “I have given all, near and far, the opportunity to join my city and fall under my protection. Those who refused? Well, I cannot worry about what happens past my borders.”
Silence fell once more, everyone listening intently to the words being lobbed back and forth across the table, but my gaze was stuck on Athos. Her chest rose and fell slowly, digesting every word passed. She was the epitome of a composed queen, if I had ever seen one. Athos let out a slow breath and steepled her fingers. Just that slight adjustment had everyone turning toward her.
