And it’s not without its problems, of course. The grifters charging the toll for passage were proof enough of that, not to mention what the Alchemists were doing just a few monthsago. But I’d rather be here, with all of its imperfections, than anywhere else in the world.
“It looks grim, doesn’t it?” says Ronan, taking his seat at the head of the table and gesturing to me to take the chair nearest to him.
I hesitate before sitting. Surely this chair should belong to Lord Cyrus, his Grand Vizier, or maybe Taran, as the head General of his legions.
Ronan sees me hovering and shakes his head. “You’re right,” he says. “Too far.” Then he moves his chair over and takes one of the chairs from the other side of the room and sits it right next to his at the head of the table.
I smile as I realize what he meant. He could feel my concern, but he thought I was worried about being a few feet away from him. He couldn’t read my mind to know my true worry.
I don’t correct him. It’s hard for me to come by secrets these days when I find I want to tell him anything and everything, and little harmless ones like this one can only help my magic.
“There’s a lot going against Faros at the moment,” I say, gesturing back to the map. “I hope there’s something in Seth’s papers that will make a difference.”
“You and me both.”
The war council is much the same as when I spoke with them a couple of weeks ago, back when we still thought there was a way to stop what was coming. Ronan tells me that there are other members, but they’re out in the field with the legions or at sea with the navy.
Typhon, Lord Cyrus’s son and the former emissary to Nithyria, greets me warmly, grateful to have me back, although I can tell he’s even more relieved that Larus made it through the rescue plan unscathed. He takes a seat next to Larus near the middle of the table, and Octavia joins them. “The hairless must stick together,” she says, and the three of them laugh.
Queen Claudia dispenses with formality as she enters. She marches straight to Ronan, who stands to greet her, and hugs him fiercely.
Then she looks at me from around Ronan’s arm. “Come here,” she says. I stand and join them, and to my utter surprise, she lets go of Ronan and pulls me into a hug as well. “I’m so glad you’re back home safe.” Then she tightens her grip on me. “Betray him, and I’ll kill you in your sleep.”
“Grandmother! I heard that.”
“I’m damn well aware you heard it. If I’d wanted to conceal it from you, I would have.” As a wind-born, Claudia could have stopped him from hearing her threat.
Ronan draws himself upright from the near-crouching position he’d adopted out of deference to his elder. He towers over her. “I know you mean well, but donotthreaten my consort again. Are we understood?”
His consort.His partner. My eyes meet Ronan’s. He just referred to me as his official partner to his grandmother. Was it a slip?
His face remains impassive, but there’s a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. No, he didn’t slip up. He absolutely meant it.
I smile in response. Before I was taken, before the siege began, I had hoped to keep our relationship a secret, worried about how Adria would react if I received an official title and introduction. But there’s no hiding it from her now, and although Ronan is likely saying this just to keep his council from questioning my intentions, if he truly means it, I don’t think I’d really mind.
“You intend to introduce her to the court?” asks Queen Claudia.
“Not right away. I doubt I’ll be convening the court on any business other than the war for some time. But yes, that’s my intention. So, are we understood?”
Queen Claudia mutters something about “impudent little upstarts” and who in the family has “real authority.”
“Queen Claudia? Are we understood?”
Queen Claudia waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, calm yourself. I like the girl. You know that. I just want her to understand that there are people loyal to you who have your back. That’s all.”
I understand her concern. It would be easy to think that I had left of my own accord and that all of this was part of a plan to ensure Ronan’s downfall. In fact, I’m certain that most of his advisors must think that. They’d be fools not to.
And that’s just me. They’re even less likely to trust my brother, especially once he opens his big mouth.
“I appreciate you protecting him, your majesty,” I say to Queen Claudia with a deferential curtsy. And it’s true. I am grateful that there are others who care as much about Ronan’s wellbeing as I do.
“Gods, and I thoughtyouwere too nice,” she says to Ronan. “You’re perfect for each other.”
I can’t help it. I know she means it as an insult, but my heart soars when she says it.
As great as it makes me feel, I know there’s at least one person in the room who does not share her opinion. Quinn wheels herself in slowly after everyone else has already taken their seats. She takes the place where my chair was, a spot as far from me as she can possibly put herself.
I feel a tremendous sense of guilt as she reaches for a stack of papers on the table but fails to grasp them. She’s forced to ask Larus to get them for her, and I know it kills her to do it.
