Cerson shakes her head.Has the male not met any of the Ancients? Living forever is not the joy I'm sure he expects it to be.
I shrug.Phaedra is staying in Yris at the moment.
Cerson snorts, an undignified sound for such a striking female but it only brings an answering grin to my own face.And how are the Unseelie Court managing around the Ancient?
Not well. He’s not very interested in any of their tea parties or games.
Cerson blinks at me before descending into laughter again, the sound of it ringing through the air. The door opens and Tauron holds it wide for Tyra as she slips back in with a tray balanced between her palms. Only his arm is in our view, and only to be sure the maid makes it through the threshold without hurting herself, but I hold my breath as I watch for Thea’s reaction. She quickly stands, rushing to Tyra to steady the small female and help her to the table, her head lifting and her shoulders tightening a little as she sees the high fae prince guarding the door.
She doesn’t scream or crumble at the sight of him, only ducking her head and hurrying back to the table. Without hesitation, the door shuts quietly and seals them both into the carefully secluded safety once more.
We wait long enoughfor a new set of guards to be stationed before we make our way back up from the healer’s quarters, Tauron and Gage flanking us in silence. I assume they didn't interact all that much while they stood guard, a truce of some kind forming over their shared interests in Thea’s wellbeing.
When we arrive to the first set of stairs Tauron stiffens before moving swiftly in front of me as Gage does the same to Cerson, only to curse under his breath a moment later.
"They’re back from scouting. Prince Soren will see us all in his reception room."
I nod easily, taking a breath as I feel the Fates writhe under my scars in warning. My hand slips back into Cerson's, an old habit, and she frowns at the rugs as we walk, no longer staring around the castle as she considers Thea’s warning.
No one knows for sure how Ancients come to be in their state of assumed immortality but there’s no telling if Kharl Balzog has figured it out or if this is just another lie. I don't know how old he is or anything about his life before he came to the Southern Lands. There’s very little ever said about the male himself, except his eagerness to wield terror, violence, and a horrifying death on us all.
When I murmur this to Cerson in the Seelie common language, she nods back to me. "I was considering the samequestion but any fae I can think of who might know have long since traveled on the ashes. Leave this to me, Æfanya, keep you attentions on the solstice rites ahead. I’ll speak with Hanede; if he doesn't know someone, he might have a place we can start.”
I nod easily, humming under my breath as we arrive to the reception room. Glancing around, it's clear this is a war council and not a household meeting. Gideon stands at the wall and bows his heads respectfully to Cerson and I as we step over the threshold. Tauron moves to sit with Tyton in their usual seats before Prince Soren while Roan stands at Soren’s side with a scowl permanently etched over his brow.
His sour demeanor could easily be attributed to whatever news has been reported to cause this hasty meeting but when Cerson and I follow Gage to stand with his brother, the scowl deepens in our direction, only easing off at Soren's stern look.
Gideon murmurs, “There were two other war bands but they were easy to deal with. They were pursuing Prince Soren’s messengers here, with news from Yris. The regent is assembling his armies and preparing for battle; the legion he’s bargained you for has already set sail.”
A shiver runs down my spine and I roll my shoulders back to hide it. Cerson’s hand slips into my own and squeezes my fingers but I keep my face carefully blank as I turn back to find Soren staring at us both expectantly.
I don't like the feel of their eyes on me waiting for some assessment, and I shrug carefully. "My opinion on the matter hasn't changed; my concerns lie with Kharl Balzog."
Tyton cocks his head to one side, the only Celestial prince not scowling in my direction. "Any legion sent to the regent comes under Kharl Balzog's armies, don't they? Unless he's aware of the regent's plans to break away from their alliance."
Tauron shrugs. "He'd be an idiot not to and surely has a plan for that already but for now the raving war bands still avoid Yris and the regent's guards throughout the kingdom."
Soren holds my gaze with his own, his fingers pressed on the map before him and Roan watches him carefully but he ignores it for now, his focus entirely on me. "What are we going to do if the legion is full of bloodwitches, called home as the Fates demanded?”
“Pray,” Gage mutters, only to be elbowed by Gideon.
I put aside their antics, no matter how much it eats at me. “I’m already taking care of the regent’s pet bloodwitches. A plan is already in motion.”
Even Tauron turns in his seat to look at me. Cerson is the only person unmoved by my words, her fingers still warm and secure against my own.
Gideon glances around at each of the princes but when the silence holds, he turns back to me. “I know you hold a lot of respect for the ways of old but I’m not confident that the desperation to return home and see the kingdom freed of Kharl Balzog hasn’t moved the hearts of others. The suffering of the forests is enough to shake the resolve of even the most steadfast witches.”
Tyton nods along with him and, surprisingly, so does Tauron but Roan still scowls in Gideon's direction and not on my behalf.
“If I might interject,” says Cerson shooting me a look before she continues. “Aside from seeing to the winter solstice, what are our offensive plans for war, rather than just the defensive? Is there anything already in place for dealing with the Betrayer or are we starting from scratch? I find it best to have a clear view of the situation before throwing around ‘what ifs’.”
Gideon nods to her and Soren moves a bundle of paperwork from his desk to reveal the map in its entirety. “The Witch Ward is growing by the day. When the witches attacked Yrell it wasa test of our allegiances and how Rooke would fare against the war machines they’ve procured. There are many offensive plans we’ve discussed but none of them were worth pursuing when my Fates demanded Rooke's involvement."
Cerson nods slowly, sending a careful look to me, but Soren continues without stopping. "Now we’re aware Kharl Balzog's power is boosted by magic he steals from the witches under his command, any plan we put forward to kill the male should start with lowering the numbers within his armies."
Cerson looks around at each of the males in the room before she answers. "Do you know any of the bloodlines his armies come from, the covens they once lived within? Is there any indication of the source of their magic? Rooke and I both left the Southern Lands with limited knowledge of the Betrayer, knowing what we are facing is vital to this task."
Tauron's brow furrows and he looks down at his hands clenched into fists in his lap. "Why did you leave the Southern Lands if you didn't understand the war and what Kharl Balzog was doing?"
