My fingers curl into a fist, which I barely keep from taking out Theron’s jaw.
“As I was saying,” Theron continues, “Eryndor wants their alchemist back and that absolutely cannot be allowed to happen. Not only out of respect for our Slate neighbors,” the bastard actually bows slightly in my direction, “who are no doubt anxious for the wellbeing of their new family member, but for the safety of the draken and shifters among us. As such, the alchemist cannot remain here.”
“No problem. I’ll have her out of your hair within the hour,” I tell Theron.
“An expedient solution, Prince Kai, but unfortunately premature. My advocate general tells me that Lady Rowan’s destruction of a significant portion of our weapons cache must at this point be classified as calculated sabotage. Under Flurry’sWar Protocol, she must answer the charges before we can release her. I trust you understand this is not a personal attack, but a necessary measure to maintain the integrity of our forces in a time of war.”
“You mean Rowan's reflexive use of magic to save her life after your officers kidnapped and tortured her?”
“Whether the act was intentional, reckless, or merely uncontrolled, it resulted in the disabling of vital defense assets,” the crooked nosed male I recognize from an initial meeting with Theron interjects. “The charges must thus attach.”
“You need not be concerned.” Theron has the gall to look me in the eyes. “I will personally escort Lady Rowan to the palace and advocate on her behalf before the throne. She will have every advantage in this situation.”
“Not that the bitch deserves any of it,” someone in the crowd mutters, others voicing their agreement. Theron lets the voices of discontent sound just long enough to be spread through the room before reprimanding the group back to order.
“You are not taking Rowan anywhere.” My voice drips with equal measure ice and threat. “If you wish to bring her up on charges, you may hold the tribunal here.” A tribunal that I’ve no intention of being around for, since the moment Eryndor’s advancing forces take up the other drakens’ attention, we are flying the hell out of here, politics be damned. “Unless you’ve not the rank to preside over such a proceeding? If that’s the issue, I’m certain Prince Kyrian could step in.”
“My rank isn’t the issue,” Theron snaps back, the tips of his ear darkening. “But since you are insisting on being crudely blunt, sir, the truth is that Lady Rowan is currently dying. Flurry's court physicians have centuries of experience with magical exhaustion. You may be willing to let territorial posturing trump the well being of an alchemist who mightdevelop an auric poisoning antidote, but I am not. Strategic prudence must be exercised."
"Your 'strategic prudence' nearly got her killed once already. Viera was your captain. Your security. Your failure."
"A regrettable oversight," Theron concedes with practiced humility. "Which is precisely why immediate relocation is essential. We cannot afford another breach."
"No, we can't." I step closer to the table, my voice dropping to that register that makes smart people nervous. "Which is why she's coming with me."
The temperature in the tent seems to drop several degrees. Theron's diplomatic mask slips just enough to reveal the calculation beneath.
"I'm afraid that's not possible," he says, recovering quickly. "The lady’s safety is my responsibility as commanding officer. I cannot simply hand over such a valuable... such an important diplomatic asset to?—"
"To her fiancé?" I cut him off. "How scandalous."
“Check your emotions, your highness,” Theron snaps back at me. “Or take leave from the command tent until you are able to contain them. We are discussing the most prudent actions to take given current circumstances. If you cannot meaningfully contribute to the discussion, then do the rest of us the courtesy of keeping your mouth shut.”
The ice that saturates my voice slips into my veins. “My error, Prince Theron,” I say, announcing each word. “I failed to realize we were looking for a prudent course of action. From everything you’ve said thus far, I presumed we were seeking a way for you to save your own ass.”
Theron opens his mouth to respond but I beat him to it, raking my eyes over all the officers gathered in search of the few who are ready to hear the truth.
“Here’s what I see, Commander Theron: A third of your weapons cache is now dust. Your top captain managed to run a cult under your nose. Worse yet, she’s run off, leaving you without the one competent field commander you had. To top it off, Lethara laid her egg last night, shifting the draken’s priorities to hatchling protection. A bad strategic posture any day, but especially unfortunate when a force of Eryndor soldiers is about to march on you. Normally, this leaves a commander two options — admit failure and retreat, or hold ground and die with glory. But you? You’ve found a third option—abandon your people to do the glorious dying, while you smuggle yourself to safety under the noble guise of escorting a valuable asset home to daddy’s throne. Did I miss anything?”
“Diplomacy brother,” my twin sister’s clear voice rings from the tent entrance, filling the space without effort. “The part you missed is called diplomacy.”
Chapter 21
Kai
“You disappeared for three years . . . for three years, Kai! And when you condescend to re-emerge it's in the middle of a shitstorm? Seriously?” We’ve not made it six steps out of Theron’s tent before my twin sister is in my face, all white-hot fury and sharp canines, her red hair sprawling out like a mane behind her. “Mother had been losing her mind worrying while you were what? Indulging your cock and breaking alliances?"
“Well at least the second part of that is true. As for my?—”
“- don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
I cross my arms, glare impassively down at her from my greater height and wait.
It takes about five seconds for her skin color to darken. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to explain yourself?”
