Chapter 11

F or the first time in all of the meetings and summits Emara had attended, the Faerie king rose from his seat and looked over the crowd. His stunning silver hair hung loosely at the sides of his face, his ears sticking out from underneath. His eyes were shining like amethysts as he drank in the sight of her standing there.

Emara's heart skipped a few beats, and even Breighly tensed beside her.

Although he was a slender man, you could still see the strength in his stance as he stood like stone. His cobalt dress jacket swept the floor behind him as he slowly walked over to her, his fancy shoes clicking on the wooden floor.

Emara didn't know if air had entered her lungs or if it had hidden away as the king stood before her. His ancient-looking hand took hold of hers and she couldn't hold back the audible gasp that left her throat. She had never seen him do anything of the likes before. He normally sat unmoving, listening and making cordial nods in agreement or disagreement. He wasn't interested in being involved in any political business that did not directly affect his court. Never before had she seen him move or make an effort to speak to someone standing at a summit.

She bowed lower than she had ever before, hoping that she hadn't offended him. Had she disrespected him in some way? Did Fae views differ from her own? Had she lost his vote?

As she straightened her spine, her gaze met his, and an amused smile tantalised his thin, pale lips.

"Empress of House Air," he said in a voice so elderly she would have thought him a relic older than the Resurrection Stone. "It is my pleasure to greet you fully."

She had met him a handful of times before, but she thought it rude to correct a king, so she nodded her head gracefully and said, "The honour is mine, King Oberon."

The room that had gathered momentum just moments before fell into a stunned silence, and she felt like everyone was holding their breath.

"My enchantments are of ancient practice, and very different to how you wield your own." He spoke quietly, but his pointed features were full of meaning, his gaze locked on hers. "I can feel the power of your wind and flame beckoning to my own sorcery, as I stand before you. When I dream, I can see your abilities in spirit reaching out to connect the stars in our universe, touching on galaxies untold. And when I hold the bones of your hand now, I can feel the magic of earth in the tips of your fingers; I can feel the need to heal the broken parts of this world. If you can find the connection to water, witchling, you will be unstoppable."

Emara's head dizzied, her hand that was still in the grasp of the king beginning to shake.

"There is a gap in our history that dates back to when the ancients left this world and the Gods found sanctuary somewhere more magical than Caledorna, and I believe you are going to fill that gap, Emara Clearwater. Your power is infinite." He leaned in and whispered to her only, "Even if I can feel a terrible darkness brewing in you. You must search for the Light, always."

Before Emara could even register the compliment or take in what the king had just said about the darkness of her blood, King Oberon turned to the crowd. Dropping her hand, he said, "All in favour of granting the Empress of Air, an heir of royal witching blood and defender of the Light Gods, the right for her choice of guard, please make it known. Stand." His galaxy-filled eyes looked around and then back to her.

Emara's mouth fell open slightly as people began rising from their seats in her favour. Rows and rows of the magical factions stood. The king nodded in her direction with a wise smile that was almost too coy to see and began making his way back to his chair on the panel.

"What the fuck did you just do?" Breighly whispered in her ear, laughing a little.

"I have no idea," Emara whispered back as she took in the crowd, her own heart beating like an enchanted drum.

A few still sat in their chairs, but that was okay because it was clear she had the majority vote. Her empress sister stood, watching her in amazement. Kerrix Bellfield of House Spirit smiled, and Emara knew she had changed the game for her too. Rya's face gave nothing away. Emara could have choked on her own heart as she took in all the eyes and faces watching her change the course of history.

"Then it shall be done," the king said, showing no hint of surprise like the others from the prime. "Can the faction leaders make their vote known even though there is an overwhelming majority in the empress's favour?"

A crash back down to reality had Emara's eyes back on the prime. Regardless of if the people had made themselves known, the prime still had the final say.

It took a moment, but Murk nodded, and a smile as radiant as the moon lit Breighly's face.

"Commander Stryker?" the king urged.

Aerrick seemed to toy with the decision in his mind, drawing out a long silence. "I will agree to her terms on a temporary basis," the chief hunter said as he placed a hand to his mouth, rubbing his lower lip. "The empress makes a valid point about my men, but because the wolf will be working alongside my clans directly, I will need to clear Miss Baxgroll before I allow her into my formations. I will need to assess her skill, tenacity, and mind."

"Of course, Chief Commander." Emara nodded her head.

As she stole a glance at the Minister of Coin, who remained seated, she could feel his blood boiling under his expensive attire. She flashed him a victorious smile.

He flashed her one of his own back, surprising her. "It seems congratulations are in order."

"There is no need to congratulate something that should already stand." Emara placed her chin in the air again.

He smiled a terrible grin, one that rattled her core. It was like she had just fallen prey to one of his hideous traps.

"Talking of things that should already stand," he began. She took a breath and prayed to Rhiannon as a darkness spread in his smile. "Shouldn't your second name have been altered by now, under the treaty of marriage?"

"I wasn't aware there was a time constraint on my engagement," Emara quickly batted back, feeling the thunder in her heart.

"Engagement?" He huffed a laugh. "I see no promise ring on your finger."

The crowd dropped silent again as they took their seats.

Emara opened her mouth to speak when the minister cut her off, "Given the fact that it is an alliance that you require as an empress."

Oh Gods, where in the underworld was this headed?

"The fact still remains that none of the Blacksteel hunters have owned up to their part of the deal between your house and their clan. It seems that they cannot provide you with an offer that you cannot resist." He ground his teeth and then stood slowly. "But I think that's about to change. I will make you an offer that should be irresistible to a woman who needs an alliance."

An uneasiness had spread through the crowd, and whispers like an eerie song had begun to flutter, but the pounding of her heart seemed to drown everything else out.

"Instead of marrying for a hunter alliance, I could offer you much more than protection for your coven, Miss Clearwater. And since you are all about paving new paths for the women of your world, why not come to an agreement with someone who offers just that? Someone like me."

Emara blinked a few times before she concluded that she was not in the middle of a nightmare. Before she could respond, the chief commander, who had made his way back to his chair, said, "That won't be necessary, Minister of Coin. The empress is not a trade deal. She is set to wed Gideon Blacksteel when they both see fit."

The statement hit her worse than a punch in the gut.

The truth of her so-called fate.

She was running on borrowed time, that she knew, but she hadn't expected the topic of her marriage to appear in today's meeting. She thought the shock of her request would have at least bought her a few more moons.

"I understand that there is a treaty in place for her to be promised to the Blacksteels, whichever one it is this month." The Minister of Coin finally took his eyes from Emara's face and looked to Viktir Blacksteel, who was wearing a dangerous scowl. "But I am looking to put forth my offer to the Empress of Air for her consideration to take my hand in marriage. With no true leader in Emara's corner, with no seat on the prime, every witching coven is at risk, and I can provide the wealth that the air coven needs."

Emara watched the spineless man who led the human faction try to create fear amongst her witches. He wanted them to feel vulnerable. He wanted her to need him. He wanted to see the temptation in her eyes when he laid out his offer. That was what men like him did. They abused all the power they had, they manipulated, and they took advantage.

His slimy voice brought her attention back to his face.

"If you were to be my bride, I would offer you a limitless pocket of coin for your coven to use as they see fit. We could pay guards handsomely. You wouldn't need a wolfpack or a clan. You would have me and my wealth. With your potential and my influence in the kingdom, we would be the ultimate pairing."

Trickles of panic could be heard from her coven whispering in the front row. Emara glanced at Lorta, who was holding hands with Kaydence, and their terrified faces were not the only reason that she had fire pulsing in her fingertips.

This was not how marriage offers were supposed to be presented to an empress, and he knew it. He was not only insulting her, but her coven too. He was trying to make her look inferior to him. Weak.

"I am not interested in how much coin you are willing to hand over to my coven for my hand in a treaty," Emara assured him. "What we require is more than a small piece of metal that is heavy in your pocket, especially when I can have a warrior of Thorin that would provide ten times the artillery that you can."

"Why would an empress only be interested in artillery when she could be the bride of someone wealthy enough to buy every army in the kingdom?" He twirled that pinkie ring again, and she had visions of cutting it off his hand with a dagger.

However, Emara was still in a formal setting, with the eyes of the kingdom on her, and she couldn't let this man goad her into something terrible when she had just been victorious.

She swallowed down what she really wanted to say and plastered the mask of an empress back onto her face. "I am flattered by your offer, Your Grace, but I can't accept it."

An arrogant shine beaded in his eye, and cruelty pulled at his lip. Something had switched. "Today, you may have won over the alpha in your little game of equality, and you may have enamoured the Fae king with whatever elemental enchantment you hold over him…" He came out from behind the table and strolled a little closer. "And the Gods only know how you have managed to keep the most powerful hunting clans at your back." He paused, looking over her. "But you don't have me fooled, girl. I know all it takes to persuade a woman in a powerful position is the right settlement figure and a husband whose life is not on the line every night they step out into a hunt." He threw a glance over his shoulder. "Chief Commander, if you dissolve the alliance between Clan Blacksteel and House Air, I can make you an offer that could make you one of the wealthiest men in the kingdom. Name your price. You know I can pay it."

Emara couldn't help but scoff, even if it were unprofessional of her. All he could offer was coin. But that didn't haunt Emara as much as why he wanted her as a bride. That part was frightening.

"This is a direct insult to my can." Viktir Blacksteel stood, his chest puffing out.

The chief commander raised a single finger as a command to stand down.

For once, Emara agreed with Viktir. The Blacksteel Clan was wealthy enough in their station and powerfully respected in their duty.

But this was Emara's fight, and she would not back down.

"I reject your offer." She looked the Minister of Coin in the eye as she said, "A Supreme may not sit on the witching throne for now, but that does not make us vulnerable." She looked over her empresses, and the magic in their eyes shone back at her. "I will not be a slave to your coin and neither will any other coven be, especially not when I can melt your gold with flames. Tell me, Your Grace, what would your coin be worth then?"

He gave a smug laugh. "A hell of a lot more than your treaty with the Blacksteels, and you would be wise to consider that. What is your price then, Empress? We can even look at negotiations." His eyes sparked. "Everyone has a price."

"She is not a diamond that has been plucked from one of your mines to be shined for auction and sold."

A deep, husky voice came from where Torin Blacksteel had been sitting.

Emara turned in a whirlwind spin to see him leaning forward in his chair, his uniform straining around his physique. Torin's glare was deadly as he stood, his chest puffing out and his features murderous. "She is priceless. She cannot be purchased. The empress has stated a few times now that she wishes to refuse your offer, so that will be the end of that discussion. Doesn't no mean no to the elite faction?"

Something turned over in the minister's dark eyes as his head snapped to Torin. "And who are you to speak out against me, boy?"

Torin grinned so wickedly before rolling his lips. "Boy? You know exactly who I am. And you know fine well I am no boy." He rolled up one sleeve of his tunic to reveal that pulsing blue vein that always caught Emara's attention. Damn that blue vein. "The work my clan has done for you does not require boys, but men skilled enough to kill without blinking an eye."

The minister's snobbish laugh broke his lips. "You are of Blacksteel blood, I presume? I find it interesting that you are the one who steps forward for the Empress of Air's honour, yet your brother, the one promised to her, has yet to say a word."

Emara didn't turn around to look at Gideon, but she knew he would be reeling with anger, probably standing now too. She hoped Naya was there to keep him in check.

"What I also find interesting is the letters that you have sent to the prime, Torin Blacksteel, pleading for your courtship to wed the empress that stands before me. They were some very good reading, I must say. But hold on a second, does that not go against your commander's orders?"

A hiss came from the crowd.

Emara's legs almost came out from underneath her, but a steady hand caught her. She had forgotten that Breighly Baxgroll stood at her side.

He had written letters to the prime?

Torin Blacksteel had written to them, pleading for them to be wed instead of her and Gideon?

Her heart shattered all over again, breaking and breaking until her breath left her. She'd thought he had given up on them, on their future.

"I am aware of what my commander asked of me." Torin walked forward, and Emara didn't know if his closeness was a comfort or torture. "If you deem Emara Clearwater so worthy to put forth a quest to her hand in marriage, you will need to understand how she works." Torin breathed in. "This is just a heads up, she doesn't like it when men don't take no for an answer. Now let her return to her seat with no further questions. She has stood up here long enough, and this matter is uncalled for."

He finally looked at her, his eyes blue enough to crush souls. He gave her a nod. Emara fought the tears in her eyes as she watched Torin turn and head back to his seat.

"I think we ought to call it a day, Chief Commander, and pick up where need be at the next summit," Murk advised, and the crowd released more breaths than Emara could count. "Everyone is tired."

Tired wasn't the word.

The King of the Fae nodded in agreement, and the chief commander nodded as he pinched his nose.

As the room broke up, Emara turned to try to reach Torin, but a crowd swarmed her. Some had tears in their eyes at what she had done for them. Some kissed her hand and swore they would never forget this moment. All had so many questions. Lorta and Kaydence rushed in to save her, moving her through the crowd that felt like they were clawing at her for attention.

Even though it didn't feel like it, she had just broken the chains of conformities in Caledorna and changed the path for women all over the kingdom. One of her guards was going to be a wolf. A woman.

Perhaps she should feel more victorious than she did, but a heavy shadow thickened in her heart, and she just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.