52. Chapter 50 Arden

Chapter fifty-two

Chapter 50: Arden

M y stomach threatens to empty itself as we stand on the steps of the castle together. I'm not deluded enough to think that Camus is feeling nervous like I am, but I reach out and squeeze his hand all the same. He looks down at me and offers a reassuring smile.

Livarius moves closer, and places his hand at the small of my back before giving me the same look his brother just did. I reach in front of me with my free hand and touch Zorvan's elbow.

When he glances back at me, I lean in and whisper, "Remember, Cyndair engages primarily in psychological warfare. She's going to make comments about me. Don't react. Or at least don't react the way she expects you to."

"You do know that I have over four hundred and fifty years more experience with her than you, right?"

"Yes, which would explain why you have the temperament of a senile dog."

He narrows his eyes at me but doesn't comment. Camus chuckles in amusement, but his laughter is cut short as the front gates to the castle open, revealing Cyndair and her entourage. Ursa and Ursa's girls are with her, as well as Solina's parents. All to be expected, of course. What is wholly unexpected is my sister's presence.

My heart thunders in my chest as my gaze falls on Gormon who is now fitted with a silver prosthetic arm. His dark eyes are already on me, and he moves like he's going to attack. Cyndair holds out her arm to stop him. Slowly, and with that ethereal floating motion, she climbs the steps.

"Prince Zorvan! How lovely to see you," she proclaims loudly enough for all of the onlookers to hear. "Shame it has to be under such tumultuous circumstances. Surely you remember Solina's parents, and the head of my handmaidens, Ursa. Then of course there's my grandson Gormon, here to stand on his sister's behalf. But I don't believe you've had the pleasure of meeting Mandira."

"I have not. It's nice to meet you," Zorvan says to my sister who barely takes her eyes off of me as she offers him a shallow bow.

At the blatant show of disrespect, Zorvan stares down at her like she's something disgusting stuck to the bottom of his shoe. He's about to comment but Camus interjects.

"So glad Grandmother finally allowed your little play thing out of her cell, little brother."

"Yes, and I'm glad your little play thing has regained control of her faculties."

"Yes! Nice arm by the way. It suits you."

Zorvan settles after Mandira's slight, and begins introducing all of the keepers. Then he gets to me.

"And you've met Arden," he says, bringing me forward.

Livarius and Camus flank me, a show of their loyalty. Cyndair gives me an appraising look, and for one very long moment I'm quite sure she's about to kill me on the spot. But then…she smiles.

"Two of my grandsons mated to an Ashylan princess; double the chance of giving Solardin a powerful heir. Bravo, boys."

Zorvan says, "We're hopeful that Arden will produce an heir within the next year. Just as soon as she's off her magic suppressants, and able to be properly healed."

His inappropriate talk about my potential childbearing catches me off guard. "I'm sorry, since when is my reproductive schedule any of your business?"

Cyndair chuckles. "Probably since he discovered you're a dragon. Is that why you're providing asylum to my prisoner?"

So much for acting like nothing ever happened.

"Aside from the fact that she was my prisoner first, I am providing a home to two fae who need one. And–"

"Four," Solina's father cuts in.

"Excuse me?"

"I believe you also have my daughters."

"I suppose I might be housing them as well?"

Zorvan glances at me, and I nod.

"Yes. They're here."

"I want them back," he growls.

"While they are young fae, they are old enough to make their own decisions. So long as they choose, they have a place in my home. As do Camus and Livarius. I think they would both agree with me that this is their home now, and so long as Arden resides in this castle. I don't expect her to be leaving any time soon."

For one fleeting second, his proclamation makes me think that maybe we can all live happily ever after together. He cares enough about me to put his issues with Camus' family aside in order to keep me safe.

"While that's very kind of you," Cyndair says, unimpressed, "I think that Arden will find herself wanting to return to Solardin very soon, seeing as how her sister is pregnant."

My mouth falls open a fraction before Camus squeezes my hand, reminding me not to show my emotions. Dira's mouth is in a tight line. She didn't plan to tell me this way–or at all. But that's the thing about the ancient queen. She will do whatever she can to maintain a leg up.

"Is that why they've finally allowed you out of the dungeon?" I ask.

"What dungeon?" Dira asks.

I frown at her. "The dungeon you were kept in for the last seven weeks."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been staying in Gormon's quarters since we arrived in Solardin."

At first I think she's lying, trying to make me look crazy–not that it would work. Camus was there, and witnessed the whole thing. But she's being completely genuine. She thinks she's been sleeping in Gormon's room all these weeks.

"You erased her memories?" I ask Gormon in horror.

"You ate my fucking arm. Who is more culpable here?"

Tavin snickers behind me, and Livarius whacks him in the gut with his free hand.

"Let's move this inside, please. I did not intend to spend all day on the stoop having a verbal standoff with you all." Zorvan says, pinching the bridge of his nose, and sighing.

"Let's," Cyndair agrees. "We do have more important things to discuss."

We all step aside and the guards open the doors to Let Cyndair and her crew inside. Zorvan leads us to the throne room. Where there used to be an empty floor for people to come before the ruler of Feldorn, there is now a large U-shaped table and I'm unsure how they got it in this room without having assembled it inside. This is much more spacious than the strategy room.

Zorvan takes a seat on his throne overlooking the table, and waits as the rest of us take our seats. Jarrah takes his seat to Zorvan's right, and Lysander takes the seat to his left. Emyth is next to Lysander, and Camus is next to him, then me, then Livarius. Everyone else fills in around the table with Cyndair at the end, facing Zorvan.

"Let's not waste any time or mince any words. What your son and granddaughter did is enough for me to execute both of them for treason among other crimes. Your granddaughter was working with hunters ;attempting to sell a royal fae into sex slavery.

"The skin trade is abhorrent enough," he says pointedly, "but working with a hunter to allow humans to defile the body of a royal is disgusting, and will not be tolerated in this kingdom."

"You're very passionate about this issue," Cyndair says. "But you seem to be forgetting that you're harboring two fugitives."

"I'm forgetting nothing. The fugitives you speak of should not have been under your thumb to begin with. Arden has told me everything that happened to her while under your ' care '. You took her, took her blood, used body control on her, put her in a dungeon, had her assaulted by more than one man within your castle, attempted to make her mate choose someone else to mate with, put her through trials, and refused to allow her access to her magic.

"All of these are things that I would love to discuss with Ardeth—her grandfather— at the next possible opportunity. I know your games, Queen Cyndair. I know how you operate. And you cannot afford to have two kingdoms bear down against you. You have no leg to stand on here. Everything Arden and Camus did was to get Arden out of your grasp—a predicament she should not have been in in the first place."

Cyndair's gaze settles on me. Maybe she was expecting me to hide things from Zorvan. Maybe he just showed too much of our hand by admitting what I told him.

The urge to backtrack takes over. "I'm not sure if you're surprised or angry that I told him what you were doing, but you have to understand that since I was seeking asylum, I needed to tell him everything. I could have gone to Kildara, but that kingdom is unfamiliar to me, and I needed to get back to Livarius."

"I see," she says. Her lips form a thin line, and though she does little to show it, this is the most angry I've ever seen her.

I frown. I'm not sure why she's so upset. She had to have known that we would talk to Zorvan about this. Maybe she thought he was just as cruel to me as she was.

"So, shall we get back to the topic at hand, or would you like to continue scowling at Arden, and attempting to manipulate me into dropping the charges against your offspring?"

Cyndair regains her composure and returns her scrutinizing gaze to Zorvan. "You will not be putting Iona to death. Her death would require me to bring all of the power of Solardin against you. My subjects would not stand for it."

"She will be having a trial and the trial will have us decide. That is why you are here. As much as you may want to, you don't get to make these decisions for my kingdom."

"There is civil unrest in your kingdom, young prince. Do you really think that the people of your kingdom would be willing to die for you with how absent you've been in handling their affairs? They would turn against you with the snap of my fingers."

"What makes you think there's unrest?" Zorvan asks, brow raised.

Please say something incriminating .

"We, too, have had asylum seekers enter our kingdom."

"Asylum seekers? Right, and what of the people you sent to rape and pillage? Are you sure you're not getting your information from them? Or the spies you've littered about my castle?"

"I'm certain I have no idea what you're speaking about," Cyndair says with an air of arrogance. "You sound paranoid. Perhaps the murders of your parents and sisters has you a little on edge."

Zorvan raises his hand at Eliotte who opens the door to the throne room. Nev walks in, head held high. His steps falter when his gaze lands on Dira, but he schools his expression and continues into the room.

The only sign that she feels any emotions about his presence is her nostrils flaring. Otherwise she remains stone faced.

Nevidian takes up an empty seat nearly halfway between Cyndair and Zorvan. "How lovely to see everyone again," he says with a wide smile.

"Are you sure you don't want to amend your statement, Your Highness?" Zorvan asks Cyndair.

"What? You think Arden's uncle is to be trusted? Who's to say that he's not just bitter that I banished him. Looks like his siblings will be forced out as well."

"Oh they didn't tell you? They're already on their way here. They decided they wanted to be around shifters again," Nevidian says, earning a scowl from Cyndair.

"Again, you have no leg to stand on. All of the lies and pulling of strings that you've been doing for centuries is coming to light. We will be having the trial. I expect that the trial will result in Iona's death. Arden has become a very loved member of this kingdom. Everyone from the cook to your granddaughter Faylin have taken a liking to her. None of them will look kindly on what Iona did.

"I've also sent invitations to most of the higher ranking members of your kingdom for the trial. Because while I didn't want to make a big display of it, I know you'll try to spin it in some terrible way. You'll try to make it my fault, or Arden's, and I'm not going to let that happen."

Cyndair stares Zorvan down for tense minutes, and Zorvan never breaks eye contact. So many thoughts are running through my head all at once, that I feel lightheaded. Iona's execution could start an all out war between the kingdoms, and if Kildara remains uninvolved, we could never stand up to Solardin.

Camus squeezes my knee under the table and second later, Livarius squeezes the other. Having them sense my anxiety is a blessing and a curse.

"Fine. We will hold the trial."

Zorvan is about to speak up, but Camus interrupts, "I can't help but notice that you didn't mention Father."

"What do you mean?" Cyndair snaps at him.

"You said Iona couldn't be put to death, but you never said anything about Father. His crimes are significantly smaller than Iona's. There's a chance you could save him from certain death. But you never said a word about keeping him away from the reaper."

"Your father's absence would not be missed at home. I'm just trying to avoid a riot."

"But—"

"If that's all I would like to retire to our quarters for a while. It was a long journey, and I'm tired." Cyndair says.

She stands and the rest of her court follows suit.

"Of course. Don't forget about the ball tonight. We're holding it in your honor, and in honor of Arden's return to the palace."

"Of course you are," she says, not hiding the suspicion in her tone. "We'll be there. Not like there's much else for us to do while we wait for the trial. See you all tonight then."

As soon as her and her entourage are out of the room, there's a collective sigh among the Feldorites remaining at the table.

"Let's continue this conversation in the strategy room away from any possible prying ears," Zorvan says, and leads us upstairs.