Elyria swallowed. “Yes, it was. It still might’ve been nice to have her with us tomorrow. She certainly proved last night that she is a force to be reckoned with.”
“It might’ve been nice to have a lot of things tomorrow.” He tightened his hold around her. “Not the least of which would be having more than just you, me, Kit, and Nox taking this on.”
Elyria nodded against his chest. “I agree. But Sephone is gone. Tristan is injured. Thraigg, Jocelyn, Ollie, and Shep could still be days away. And since the king is?—”
“—still holed up in his quarters, yes. Barcroff has been ferrying alleged messages from him throughout the palace, but His Majesty hasn’t left his rooms since last night.”
Elyria scoffed. “I was going to say, ‘Since the king is useless,’ but fine, we can go with yours.” Under differing circumstances, Elyria might have felt bad for the man. He had nearly died, after all. His reality had shifted nearly as badly as Cedric’s had with the revelation of Lord Church’s true identity.
But unlike Cedric, King Callum had let the events of last night cripple him. While the palace was simply trying to recover from the carnage, he was hiding, leaving the surviving council members, the knights of Kingshelm, the palace servants to figure things out on their own—leaderless.
Cedric made a face, clearly uncomfortable with the disrespect he was skirting around. He still considered King Callum his sovereign, his liege. The fact that her knight was, in reality, a royal himself was not lost on Elyria. In fact, as she looked up at him, a seed of pride sprouted behind her ribs. He’d been such a force of calm purpose today. Instructing and guiding and helping everyone left in the palace with steadfast grace.
It was beautifulto witness. Regal.
Cedric cleared his throat. “Even if the king were well, even if our forces weren’t in utter disarray, and even if we felt we could trust those who remain, that there aren’t still cultists secretly biding their time within our ranks...”
“I know. Preparing them to march on Seastone would take just as long as waiting for the rest of our friends to return. Longer.”
“So, I think we are making the right call then. The four of us go, in stealth, and retrieve Tenny from Seastone.” Cedric nodded several times, as though he was trying to convince himself.
“There’s always Sid,” Elyria said, lightening her voice in the hopes it might ease the knight’s obvious dread.
He gave a low huff of amusement. “Sid may be made of shadow, but I would not consider her particularly stealthy. Especially not now.”
“My little volacarnii,” Elyria said, affecting a tone of mock pride. Then, more seriously, she added, “I did try telling her to stay here. Or at least to disappear back into whatever shadowy fold she lives in when not out here with us.”
“Is that where she is now?” he asked.
“As if I know. She doesn’t exactly ask me for permission. And regarding maintaining our stealthy approach, I’m afraid she’s not exactly known for her obedience either.”
Cedric’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle. “As I’ve said before, no idea where she gets that from.”
Elyria returned her head to his chest. “So. Seastone then. And we are absolutely sure that is where they went?”
He tensed, his heartbeat picking up under her ear. “Addison said he was quite forthcoming about it when he took Tenny.”
“He wants you to follow.”
“He knows I will come.”
Silence fell over the two of them, tense at first, then relaxing into something comfortable.
Elyria nestled deeper into Cedric’s lap. “I feel like I could sleep for a year,” she said, stifling a yawn.
“Just a year?” Cedric chuckled into her hair. “I think I could sleep for a decade.”
“Being awake for two full days will do that to a person.”
“I am no stranger to sleepless nights,” he said, “but there is a marked difference between tossing and turning until dawn, versus traveling halfway across the continent in a single night, only to have to fight our way through King’s Keep.” He paused. “Not that I think I would have been able to sleep even if we hadn’t immediately jumped into battle. I think my heart is still racing from that flight across the Chasm.”
“It’s calledexposure therapy,” she grumbled into his tunic. “You’re welcome.”
He ignored her. “Not to mention, the last time wedidsleep was on the hard forest floor. Not exactly conducive to comfort.”
“Speak for yourself. I was perfectly comfortable.”
“That is because you are a bedroll hog. And I would lay down decent gold that you’re a blanket hog as well.”
