Chapter 19

The next morning, I ensured my expression was composed as I walked into the Royal Study, which was doubling as a meeting room. Eliasson’s desk had been moved to the corner to make room for the group to sit around the large square table in the centre of the room. A map of Fyriane hung on the wall above his desk, while the wall directly across from it held a detailed map of the Arlom Kingdom. And, of course, the walls were painted blue.

It was a boring room with little character. I had had many arguments with Eliasson over the need to spruce it up a bit. I had even offered my assistance, littering the room with a few indoor plants. But I gave up pushing him when he insisted that his study had a purpose, and it wasn’t to look pretty. He didn’t want to give anyone – including himself – reason to be distracted in the room, which is precisely why it had been chosen for the trade negotiations.

I took my seat on Eliasson’s right, courteously greeting everyone, meeting the eyes of Qynthia and her Second. Their playfulness had been replaced with a serious air – had they found out what transpired between Xylan and I? I shook my head. No. They couldn’t. Not everything was about me. It was trade negotiations. It was always serious like this.

I nodded curtly at my sister, who sat directly across from me, and she returned it coldly. Her demeanour was nothing new. Ironically, with all the uncertainties and questions building in me, her consistent behaviour actually provided some comfort. I always knew what to expect when it came to her.

I wasn’t the last one to show up. The Marlysts were nowhere to be seen, their assigned chairs empty. They probably slept in after spending half the night discussing how they were going to use me. Well, screw them.

I smiled gratefully at Eliasson as he passed me a cup of coffee, placing a kiss on my cheek. I may have only been to one Forum, but it took me ten minutes at the first one to surmise this was the boring part. Given a maximum of two representatives could be present for each Dom, I insisted Fyrel step in on my behalf. Naturally, Eliasson shot this suggestion down. Apparently, my absence wouldn’t be a good look. I desperately wished it was a non-issue. Drinking until one in the morning? Absolutely, I’m a sucker for a good time. Galloping around the countryside? Count me in. Talking politics and watching rulers fight over new deals? Drop me in the middle of the Tidal Seas and leave me to fight my way out.

The feeling of the twins presence interrupted my coffee. In five, four, three, two … one, the Marlysts entered the meeting room. With a literal bang. Xylan shoved the door so hard it crashed into the wall. Both looked like they were about to murder someone as they rounded the table and sat in the last two empty spots. No good morning. No nods. Nothing. Just an assessing sweep of the room that weighed all the individuals. Well, looks like the king is officially in the building.

I didn’t miss that Xylan looked at everyone but me. Cool, cool, cool. Looks like we’re going for full-blown avoidance. I should follow his example and do the same. But I don’t. Nope, the stubborn ass I am decides to openly stare at him. Political schemes aside, if he was going to blatantly ignore me after what went down yesterday, I was going to make it difficult.

And I did, keeping my eyes on him throughout the whole introductory portion of the meeting. Eliasson, as the hosting royal, was obligated to chair the meetings. Per Forum customs, he went on and on through the introduction, listing today’s agenda and housekeeping items. Funny, the housekeeping items were mainly around being professional – yes, he used the word professional – at all times. No screaming, no pointing fingers, no throwing things at one another; the list went on. I’d have loved to be a fly on the wall at the Forums that had caused the list to be added to the introductions read out at every single Forum. Honestly, it was basically a one-oh-one of how to be a sensible person, and we’re royals for Goddess’ sake. We’re responsible for the smooth operation of our Doms and Fyriane as a whole, including the livelihoods of our people. The blandness of the introductory items made the housekeeping list downright comical.

But the comedy of the list still wasn’t as amusing as watching Xylan force himself not to look at me. He’d managed to maintain his stoic demeanour, apart from some tell-tale signs. He alternated between clenching his jaw so damn hard I thought he was going to break it, and fisting his hands at his side as he bit down on his lip almost to the point of drawing blood. The other royals were in their own little world, zoning out during the boring part of the meeting, excepting Orlandia. She was well aware of what was going on between Xylan and I, shooting glares between us, watching the great standoff.

‘And that concludes the introductions. Does anyone have any questions or concerns before we proceed?’ Eliasson opened the floor and was met with complete, slightly uncomfortable silence.

I forgot how awkward these things could be. Everyone bit their tongue at the beginning, waiting for another royal to say something that would set them off. That’s when it got fun. It was a shame we weren’t allowed wine. I’d love to sit back and sip while watching Xylan and Slaviya go head-to-head, which was bound to happen given the tense exchanges between the Marlyst and Salistya Doms in the past. Xylan may be different from his father, but in this, I couldn’t imagine either royals’ stances changing.

‘Alright,’ Eliasson said, clearing his throat. ‘Ramone, please begin the minute taking.’

As the Nyarellean Queendom’s main role was to accurately record and preserve the history of Fyriane within the libraries’ archives, Ramone’s duty as Qynthia’s Second was to ensure that the events of the Royal Forum were noted. In the future, the rulers of the Doms would be able to request information. Of course, the parts where we get a little drunk were often left out.

As soon as the Nyarellean had a pen in his hand, he nodded to Eliasson to proceed.

‘Qynthia, would you like to begin by giving us an overview of the state of the Queendom of Nyarelle?’ Eliasson asked.

‘The Queendom’s population is sitting just shy of fifteen thousand,’ the Queen started, before giving the same information she always did. The Queendom is thriving, the history of the continent is being preserved, and children are being trained to carry on Nyarelle’s legacy. Nothing changed in Nyarelle as it was the most stable Dom in Fyriane. Which made sense considering it wasn’t directly involved in combat with the tidal beasts, risking their lives every day, or finding new mining areas, or battling nature to harvest enough food to feed the continent, the way Salistya, Marlyst and Arlom respectively were. If I were to come back in another life, the life of a Nyarellean seems like a sweet deal.

But then I wouldn’t have my magic. Would I really give that up for a safe, complacent life? I’d planned on having that kind of life in the Isles. But I would have still had my magic, still been called out on missions from time to time. The thought of not having it … No. I wouldn’t give that up for a safe life. My magic was as part of me as were the limbs on my body.

‘Any questions for Qynthia at this stage?’ Eliasson asks, interrupting those thoughts. I focused back in on the conversation.

Silence.

‘Slaviya. A report on the Salistya Queendom,’ Eliasson said, hurrying to add a ‘please’ after she shot him daggers. Despite my husband’s role as chairman, Slaviya could never shake her disdain for being commanded.

‘Salistya’s army is strong,’ she started.

I held back my snort at the blatant lie.

‘Our population is sitting at approximately thirty thousand, with roughly a thousand new trainees heading to the Solista Isles every year to commence their training. The average graduation rate of those trainees sits around the ninety percent mark, with seventy percent of that returning to Salistya to serve in the army.’

This meant a ten percent casualty rate, which sounded about right with the brutality of the training and the tasks it involved, including sparring, magic training and eventually full-blown missions. But twenty percent are choosing to stay on Solista? That’s higher than I would’ve expected, and more than I thought Slaviya would allow.

Curiosity got the better of me as I interjected, ‘Twenty percent retention rates on the Isles is higher than usual. Any reason for that?’

She stiffened slightly. Not enough for others to pick up on, but then again, we weren’t surrounded by other mages. Her body’s reaction couldn’t escape my notice no matter how hard she tried.

‘There’s been a change to the requirements on the Isles,’ she said. ‘With the influx of Arlomans joining the Salistyan trainees, we require more cooks, cleaners and trainers to assist.’

I mulled over her words. Makes sense. But not entirely. And my strengthening sense of knowing agreed with me on this. I decided to keep going, the knowing telling me it was the tidal beasts and that it was knowledge the other royals needed.

‘A plausible explanation,’ I replied. ‘But you don’t require a hundred and eighty graduates for those roles when, over the last two years, Arlom have sent four hundred and twenty-seven trainees your way. And that’s not mentioning the plethora of experienced Solistans who would be an appropriate choice for trainers rather than graduates fresh out of school.’

I felt Xylan’s head whip towards mine, but my eyes didn’t budge from my sister’s. I was determined to get to the bottom of this.

‘Unless,’ a wry smile formed on my face, ‘the experienced Solistans are refusing to assist?’

‘They’re not.’ Her answer was too quick for it to be believable. At least to me, anyway. Either she’s lying and they’re refusing or there’s something else going on. Or it’s both. The options weren’t mutually exclusive.

‘Alright, I’ll believe that. For now,’ I said, the last words coming out as a warning. ‘The Solistans aren’t refusing. So, I’ll ask the question again; is there any reason for the higher than usual retention rates on the Isles?’ I made my tone mirror the uncompromising one my father used on us in his many lessons. I knew Slaviya would recognise it for what it was, and I could see the message, that answering my questions was non-negotiable, was delivered loud and clear. I would pay for this later.

‘Alongside the need for increased aid with the trainees in Senora, there are more tidal beasts moving towards the Isles and further down the coast heading towards Arlom. I allowed an increased number of graduates to remain on the Isles to help if an attack occurs,’ she admitted.

There. That wasn’t so hard.

‘How far away from Arlom are we talking?’ Eliasson’s hand came to grip my thigh harder than usual as he directed the question at Slaviya.

‘The last sighting was reported a few days ago. At that point, they were about halfway between Savast and Amarald. The army has provided decoys, which are proving effective. We have halted their progress further south, and I have troops stationed across the whole Salistyan coast right up to the mouth of the Pass on our side,’ she declared.

‘And Varqel has Solista under control?’ Between being the head trainer and general of the small army based there, that was a lot for even someone as capable as him. Why didn’t V tell me this was going on?

‘He does now. I have permanently stationed Bastra as the Isles’ army general,’ she replied.

The hairs on the back of my neck bristled. She put Bastra on the Isles? The Salistyan’s harshest and most ruthless killer? Well, that explains why he’s not at the Forum with Slaviya like usual, leaving her as the sole representative of Salistya. Fuck, this wasn’t good. I needed to see Varqel. And kick Mazyr’s head in for his spies’ lack of reporting. Again.

‘Interesting move,’ I commented. What the fuck else was I meant to say? Red flags were flying around in my head. I wanted to wipe that smug look off Slaviya’s face.

‘Who better than my trustworthy Second to assist Varqel in maintaining the integrity of the Isles?’ she said, clearly goading me, enjoying the betrayal rocketing through me. She knew I hated Bastra. She knew I would protect the Solistans with my life, my loyalty to them set in stone in my training years. But how the fuck do I protect them from him? From his corrupting influence?

‘Who better, indeed,’ I replied, refusing to show what was going on inside my head. It was spinning, as I realised something wasn’t right. I was missing something. Story of my bloody life right now.

‘The Queendom’s breeding programs are strong. We are averaging three thousand births a year, which is a dramatic increase since I’ve taken over as Queen,’ Slaviya continued, her voice smug. The pride she had proclaiming that more people were procreating, majority against their will, under her reign was disgusting. Clearly, she wasn’t lingering on our previous conversation. It’s almost as if she hadn’t just shoved a sword into my back placing Bastra on the Isles.

I took in the room, noting everyone else was equally disgusted at Slaviya’s comments. The breeding programs were always a hard one to listen to. None of the Doms, bar Salistya, agreed with forcing women and men to have sex with others outside of a consenting relationship. But the Salistyan’s knew better than attempting to leave. Not that some of them didn’t try. And frequently. It’s one of the reasons Salistya has the Sol. To exterminate the runaways.

Fyriane’s population had always been low, no one knew why. Our shores needed to be protected and for that to happen, we needed people, and lots of them. Salistya, until recently, hadn’t allowed any other Dom access to the Isles to gain magic. And the other Doms refused to subject their people to breeding programs, having given it up long ago. From the titbits Eliasson had told me on the subject, the debate to fully stop the breeding program was always a hot topic. And every time it left the Doms right where they started. At an impasse.

‘Surely there’s a better way, moving forward, for your people than subjecting them to these programs,’ Xylan bit out in disgust. Here we go. The new royal was entering the age-old debate.

‘I’ll give you some grace by prefacing this discussion with a reminder that this isn’t the first time this topic has been discussed. And you will do well to remember that it is my Dom you are talking about. It is only I that chooses how it is run, Marlyst,’ Slaviya said, her tone indicating she wasn’t fucking around. She had basically sneered the King’s surname.

I sat up straighter, waiting to see how Xylan played this.

‘Slaviya, the purpose of this Forum is to relay information on the current standing of our respective Doms and negotiate trade agreements. I’m not telling you how to run your Dom, but I would be remiss as a fellow ruler not to lay out the facts.’ Xylan replied with an icy tone that matched Slaviya’s.

I hope to the Goddess I’m never on the receiving end of that tone. My sister’s I can deal with. Hell, I’ve dealt with it my whole life. But from him? I’d be shaking in my boots as much as Qynthia, who is fiddling with her hands, seems to be. Eliasson, meanwhile, looked like he was about to grin in delight.

I snuck a look at Orlandia who met my eyes. Her lips quirked briefly, the only sign that, she too, was enjoying this.

Slaviya leant back in her chair, cradled her head in the palm of her hand, and put her elbow on the arm rest. She wore a mask of boredom, feigning a yawn and motioning him on with a ‘go on’ gesture.

To Xylan’s credit, he maintained his composure as he stared down my sister. ‘You’ve stated that the tidal beasts are moving further south and pose a threat to not only Arlom but the Solista Isles. It’s been highlighted that more of your graduates, as you call them, are staying back to aid the army on these Isles. Which means you’re down on your forces on the mainland. Which also means that if they do move further south into Arlom, you don’t have the numbers to protect the coastal border, or the Pass.’

It was one thing for our coastline to be inundated with attacks. But the Pass? We could not allow the tidal beasts to infiltrate it. It was a key mode of transport between the Doms, not to mention the Palace of Fyriane, which sat in the middle between the Marlyst and Arlom Kingdoms. Even though the palace was in ruins at this point, the Nyarelle and Marlyst Doms insisted the preservation of the site was a top priority.

‘Claiming I don’t have enough numbers to protect the coastal border is merely speculation, not facts,’ Slaviya pointed out.

‘So, you’re denying it?’ Xylan countered.

His question was met with a pause that prompted me to grin. Oh, I so wish we could drink in this meeting.

‘I am not denying that it would stretch the army. But we can hold our own.’

There was silence as it sank in that the Salistyan army wasn’t as strong as Slaviya first portrayed. I could see where Xylan was going, and based on the scathing look on Slaviya’s face, I’d bet a healthy amount of gold that she could see it too.

‘In that case, it’s a fact that if the tidal beasts move further south into Arlom, your army will be stretched. Which will leave the Fyriane continent compromised,’ he stated.

The way he was standing up to Slaviya made him that much hotter in my eyes, which was a problem. He wasn’t joking when he said he showed up for his people. The man in front of me had done a complete one-eighty from the teasing one I kissed less than twenty-four hours ago. And it only made me want him more.

‘The continent will not be compromised,’ Slaviya insisted firmly, impatiently drumming her fingers on the arm of the chair. She was getting wound up despite her demeanour.

‘How many shipments of weapons do you require for the next quarter?’ Xylan pressed, never letting up on the point he was trying to make.

Slaviya stiffened. ‘Three will suffice. We have left over equipment from the last delivery.’

Xylan hummed. ‘That’s a lot less than it was a few years ago. What did we get up to, Orla? Six? Seven?’

‘Seven,’ confirmed Orlandia.

‘I’m no expert when it comes to running an army, but I’d guess that you don’t require as many weapons because you don’t have enough soldiers on the ground to wield them.’ His words came out like a purr. But instead of sounding sensual, it was predatory, like he was a cat that had a mouse exactly where he wanted it. And was ready to pounce.

‘That’s usually how things work,’ Slaviya replied tightly.

‘It’d be a shame if the Queendom couldn’t uphold their part of the deal with the other Doms,’ he mused.

‘Unless you do have enough soldiers,’ I blurted. I didn’t realise I’d spoken out loud until all eyes had fallen on me. Well, looked like I’d officially reinvolved myself in the discussion. ‘The trained Arlomans will be back home in a few years. They’ll be able to assist,’ I supplied.

‘Sounds like we don’t have a few years,’ Xylan quipped.

‘I understand your concerns. That wasn’t the extent of my thoughts,’ I replied sharply.

‘Arlom also need our youth back in the field. We can’t have them all moved to the frontline, or we will have no way to maintain farming production,’ Eliasson advised.

I turned my attention to Qynthia, my mind ticking over. ‘The south-western lands of Nyarelle are a similar climate and terrain to Arlom, yes?’

Qynthia nodded. ‘Yes, the land in the south-west and all along the Pass are very similar. Even into the south of Marlyst, but there are a handful of blacksmith villages there.’

‘Which means, in theory, that the Arlomans could teach and assist the Nyarelleans to start their own farms,’ I began. ‘If Nyarelle was self-sufficient and providing food to their own Dom, there wouldn’t be as much pressure on Arlom. It could free up some of the graduates to help on the frontline.’ I was speaking out loud as I thought through how this would work. For some – mainly Salistya – this wouldn’t be a popular option. But we only needed majority rules to make it happen.

‘Salistya does not require extra aid,’ Slaviya insisted.

‘Is that your ego talking? Or the Queen whose duty and focus should be to protect her Dom, and have what is best for the Fyriane continent at the forefront of her decision making?’ Xylan challenged, sending a disapproving look towards Slaviya.

‘It is my Queendom’s duty to ensure the tidal beasts are kept at bay. And we can fulfill this.’

‘And it’s our duty as your fellow rulers to remind you that at times we need to pivot,’ Xylan replied. His attention broadened to land on the rest of us royals in the room. ‘Having separate duties throughout the Doms has, debatably, worked for a long time. I often question the logic of this structure, an answer that evidently has been lost to time. Nonetheless, the way we operate as a continent could be better, and clearly times are changing and have been changing. We need to evolve. We need to learn from each other, use our strengths to assist and, above all, protect the lives of our people. If this means we need to break down the barriers separating what the Doms do, then we do it,’ he paused, letting his words sink in. ‘Honestly, if you don’t agree with me, I suggest you take a good hard look at how you’re ruling. Are you ruling for your people? Or for your own personal gain?’ The last comment was very clearly aimed at my sister. Judging from her reddened face, she knew it too.

With that, Xylan stood up and left the room before Eliasson could stop him. Guess that means it’s break time.

The others got up to leave the room, drawing the same conclusion as me. I stood up to follow, but Slaviya said, ‘Valare. A word.’ This wasn’t a request.

Eliasson looked back with worry before leaving the room when I mouthed, I’ll be okay.