“You really shouldn’t have portaled so soon after what happened yesterday,” he said, gaze flicking between her and Morgen.
Morgen strode over to the table and placed his palms flat against the surface. Nya watched, eyes widening as the grooves in the table lit up, flowing with tiny rivulets of what appeared to be some sort of liquid gold. That was when she realized the tableitselfwas a map too. She saw the wordsGods’ Aislecarved near the edge and noticed the word ‘veil’ in several places. The table must be a map of Arcadia.
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion,” Morgen said flatly to Carus.
Carus leaned forward. “Yes, well, I don’t recall requesting to babysit your magic-drunk ass.”
“You were not there when I woke up,” Morgen said, tilting his head to where Nya still stood near the entrance. “She was. So, I presume you were not burdened with the task for too long.”
“Yes, I left. After I caught you when you fell off Varax then dragged you through the halls while you whined and flopped about like an overgrown child having a tantrum.”
Nya’s lips twitched, unable to stop the small laugh that escaped her even as Morgen scowled.
Carus grinned, pointing at her. “See? She thinks I’m funny.”
“Incredible. You’ve finally found yourself a captive audience.”
Carus burst out laughing, slapping a hand against his knee, and Nya pinched her lips together. She shouldnotlaugh. The joke was made at her own expense, and it was true, after all. She was trapped here. Maybe her mind was becoming a bit loopy with the confusing whiplash of emotions.
“So,” Carus said, clearing his throat and placing a folded piece of parchment on the table. “The letter was drafted while you were having your sleepover. The other generals and I settled on three days.”
Morgen gave a short nod. “Fine.”
Nya glanced at the letter, already having a feeling what it was, but still, she asked, “Three days for what?”
This time, when Carus smiled, though it was not kind or amused but calculating. “Three days for the principals to meet our terms and accept Morgen as king. Otherwise, we’re ready to send our armies.”
Chapter 10
One Year and Six Months Prior
My hand is shaking, so I apologize if this is illegible. I was wrong. Their souls were not destroyed but guarded from Fate itself by the dragons. Cion fears the power she felt when she touched their child, but I cannot bring myself to care.
—Lady Anabeth, Consort to Her Majesty Cion Livii, Queen of Aren, D’anna
“You look tired.”
Across from her, leaning against a fallen tree, Morgen made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. The truth was, he’d looked tired for a while now. She had been holding back the need to make a comment about it on a hunch he wouldn’t want to talk about it, which was probably true. It usually was.
“Have you been sleeping?”
He sighed. “I sleep.”
She bit her lip. “Well, I just—”She cut herself off when he leaned forward, brushing his fingertips to her mouth.
“Don’t do that,” he murmured. They were close, closer than he usually let them get, and she could see the silver-brightstrands of ether pulsing in his irises. “You don’t need to worry. I’m fine.”
“Who will worry,” she whispered, “if I don’t?”
He didn’t move away like she expected; instead, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said with a sort of irritated fondness, “I have a few friends who fuss. Or at least they would call themselves my friends.”
Her brow creased. “Do you not think of them as friends?”
“I do, but…” He glanced away. “I’ve known them for too long. I would never want a friendship formed of pity.”
She understood immediately. “You knew them when you were young.”
He looked back at her. “Some of them, yes.”
