Page 22 of Winter Gods & Serpents

“Creature?” she asked, standing from where she sat. “She is only human, son. You cannot think of her like that. Not you.”

I took a deep breath, leaning onto my chair. “Why not me? Was I raised with different beliefs from everyone else, am I not a Henah blessed, do I have no wits to know whose product it is?”

“It?” she exclaimed; her expression aghast as if I’d offended a god. “Please have the decency and call the poor girl who suffered from our people as what she is.”

“There was no poor girl, we hunted an ybris and you know that.”

“Who was just a human.”

“Who can still well be just the ybris.” I sighed, arguing was not something I enjoyed, especially with her. “Driada, I have a meeting to attend in a few short moments. The princess is well and hopefully will remain so till the agreement. If there is nothing anything else.”

Disappointment wore her face. “No, son, attend your meeting.”

* * *

The council room buzzed, my ears had filled with that of a busy street. This room did not know quiet—this very room was the antonym of quiet. Moon and Night council formed court. Despite the harmony of the moon and night, these two were similar magnets. Arguing a song of lyrical offences at every meeting. Young criticized old, old offended the young.

“Do not tell me we are still heading with this madness,” Stregor, one of the eldest councillors jumped without hesitation.

The head councillor rubbed her temples frustrated. “The agreement is sealed, signed and in work. The madness has already gone through, Stregor.”

He huffed curses under his breath all offended. “We are not bargaining for her to be our prisoner, she will be our queen. Do you understand that we have won nothing from this agreement?” Yet he’d voted for the agreement, then surprised himself with realization when it had gone through and realized the court and king intended to truly make the Winter princess our queen.

“We have won our people’s freedom,” I interrupted. “And what have you brought us so far, Stregor? I mean, beside their imprisonment.” Stregor, a General at the time, had led one hundred of our Aura towards Isjord, toward the attack. The one who’d pushed the decision of attack, the one who’d carried the massacre of thousands.

“We rose for this kingdom.”

“And this kingdom is falling because you rose.” Larg, General of the Highwall argued.

Stregor flinched upward. “Silas was going to use those creatures.”

“Those creatures were human,” Mal interrupted, entering the meeting. His hair dishevelled, shirt buttoned wrong, belt off. This fool would be the death of me. “What were they going to do, yell for surrender at our gates? Heavens forbid they learned to spar we might have had to battle all three of them with our very minute hundred thousand men army.” He sat and rose a snide brow at the councillor.

Stregor leaned forward with intended dominance. “It is what they symbolize. Just because gods were on our favour, doesn’t take away what they were.”

Mal leaned onto the table. “This ybris propaganda is exhausting. Getting subtle by the day too. One moment she is a monster the other our salvation?” He grinned at the cascading silence of the room. “Funny how it spins, isn’t it?”

The councillor bared his teeth at my brother. “A worm is still a worm though it helps the soil breath. A monster is still a monster even inside prison bars.”

“Humans,” Mal countered, noting the meeting room. “So many of them in this very room, yet so very little humanity. Who gave you the scale, Stregor, to measure what one calls a monster? With a list of kills thrice of any beast in this realm, what have you weighted yourself against? A plague?”

“Enough, Malik,” I warned, and he gave me a wink before backing down victorious.

“Why was this meeting called Adriane, we don’t have all day. Our squadrons are waiting for dispatch to aid the cities on our borders.” Triad, Commander of Umbra Order asked the head councillor, tired of the arguing. The elderly Aura had no desire in politics, little less on what people called a monster. He’d seen truer ones.

“If Silas, that sneaky bastard, asked for a single line to be changed or revoked on that agreement, I will pull my vote out,” Relgan, the eldest council member, threatened.

The head councillor flagged her hand down. “Not to worry councillor Relgan, it is not of that sort.”

“It’s the after sort,” Mal pushed. “What happens after.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

He laughed, unamused. “Of course, which tower will you propose to lock her in? Which tower do you need the king to agree where to lock her?”

I leaned close to him. “It is but the last time I warn you, brother.”

He rose his hands in surrender and leaned back on his seat. “But how else would it be, you and these bastards are joined at the hip. You have a proposal of your own? Northern tower? Bridge bay tower?”