Page 48 of Forged in Fading

She focused on counting each time her boots collided with the floor, though her heart still managed dizzying rolls and flips within her chest. “At least this time you’ll have to endure imprisonment too if this doesn’t go well.”

“If this goes poorly, imprisonment is the least of my worries.”

The stark white interior of the walls and marble floors only amplified the unease gripping Alvara’s insides. Save for the soft blue curtains that hung from every arched window, little other color adorned the palace. Even Boden donned his usual variation of beige, and the councilor wore the darker shades of Malva. Her purple dress stood out like a reindeer at a garden party.

The guard paused outside a set of ceiling-high alabaster doors inlaid with sweeping golden swirls. “You will address the queen as ‘Your Majesty.’ You will not speak unless spoken to. Understood?”

They all mumbled in agreement, and Alvara interlaced her twitching fingers behind her back. This would all be over soon.

Queen Myrithal sat on a pure white throne chiseled from flawless marble that made Alvara’s muscles complain from just looking at the thing. Pointed spires matching those of the palace emerged from the top of the throne above the queen’s ice-blonde head, though they did nothing to detract from the razor-sharp spikes protruding from her crown that had been made entirely of some kind of turquoise jewel.

The tips of her pointed nails clicked on the carved head of a wolf on one side, while a silver scepter bulging with blue gems in every shade filled her hand on the other. An easy way to channel her magic and obliterate anyone in her path.

Her face remained as immovable as the stone she sat on, and each step toward her took a year off Alvara’s life. The queen snapped her fingers, and they all halted. Alvara’s knees threatened to give out right then and there, but she twisted herself into a low curtsy she had practiced at least a hundred times in her head.

“Rise.” Queen Myrithal’s glacial gaze chilled Alvara’s already bitterly cold body, and her attention lingered on Boden for at least three days. “Tell me, why have you come today?” Her voice lacked softness, just like her place of residence.

Clearly the queen hadn’t read the letter from King Ulivar.

“Your Majesty, the scroll⁠—”

She cut off the councilor’s words with a wave of her hand. “I have read the scroll. I am asking why you are here and not King Ulivar himself.”

“It isn’t safe, Your Majesty.”

“Ah, but sending King Einar’s favorite pet into my city and my kingdom is?”

Boden stiffened beside Alvara, and she hurried to speak before he had the chance. “Your Majesty, King Einar has allied with Nyr and Valo. We believe he’s aiming to crown himself High King. Dalvi is next, and Vorianta will be under attack within weeks.”

Queen Myrithal skewered Alvara with her stare. “And you are?”

No one, she wanted to say. Gods, why had she even agreed to come here? Her only expertise involved weapons and pastries. “I have lived in Vorianta all my life, Your Majesty. I was captured and my friend was tortured by King Einar. The Malvan people took me in when I had nowhere else to go. I’m here to fight for my kingdom in any way I can. I am begging you to do the same.”

“A convincing story, perhaps, if you hadn’t brought with you an elf who has helped King Einar commit enough atrocities to live in our dungeons for the rest of his days.” The queen pointed her scepter at Boden, and it erupted with frigid magic, snaking a circle around his feet. To his credit, Boden didn’t flinch, let alone blink at the display of power. “Without King Ulivar here to speak to this so-called threat, I have little reason to believe you or agree to ally with a kingdom we have a complicated history with. I accepted this meeting to avoid further animosity and to quell my own curiosity, but my desire for partnership goes no further.”

Boden opened his mouth, and Alvara itched to tear off her runed bracelets and throw an ice gag to capture his words before they reached the queen. “Your Majesty, it is true that I work for King Einar, but for almost a decade I have been taking advantage of my position to do what I can to save the demi-elves and humans he persecutes relentlessly.” Alvara stomped on his foot, but he ignored her. “He has been hunting, executing, and enslaving them for years, and we must stop him now, before he gains control of all the kingdoms and does with them what he wishes.”

Queen Myrithal’s talons dug into the wolf’s marble head, her knuckles whitening around her scepter. This was it. She would obliterate them right then and there. Her cackle burst through the room and raised the hairs on Alvara’s arms. “You try to convince me to go to war for humans? Who have been murdering my subjects in recent weeks? You must be as mad as the king you serve. Vorianta has never fallen, and this will be no different. I am not fearful of your so-called threat, and I have heard enough.” With that, the queen shooed them away as if they were bothersome gnats. Insignificant.

Gods damn it. Without Dalvi’s alliance or at least their own attempt to defend their city—her city, everything was doomed.

Heat flushed Alvara’s skin, so hot her flesh could have peeled away from her bones. Boden had ruined their only opportunity to stop King Einar from leveling the city to rubble. She drew in slow, burning breaths until they stepped outside of the suffocating palace walls. The freedom from the shackles and the cool air awoke her magic, and it tugged on its leash with all its might, ready to devour the power her anger offered.

Alvara ignored its pleas and gazed out onto the city that had claimed a crucial piece of her heart. What were they supposed to do now? What could they even do?

“Alvara—” Boden said behind her.

She shook her head. One thing. Alvara had asked one thing of him, and he had believed his cause more important.

She kept her voice level and hushed as she spoke, not bothering to look at his damn face. “I told you. I told you to keep your mouth shut about your godsdamned humans, and you couldn’t do it. And now the queen won’t do a damn thing about the threat that may very well wipe this city—my city from existence.”

“She needed to know the full extent of what is happening in Ela and what may happen here if she ignores our requests for an alliance.”

A thin coat of frost crawled its way up her bare skin as she turned to Boden. The tightness in her own body was reflected in his hard features. “No, she didn’t. Admit it. Her comments about you scratched the surface of your never-ending guilt about the things you’ve done. You spoke to help yourself, Boden. And in doing so, you sentenced my people to their fading.”

“If I may interject—” Godsdamned Orme.

“Not another word, councilor,” Alvara snapped and turned on her heel.