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Remus and Arthur stiffen as though they’re expecting Morgana’s words to anger me. I can’t fault them for their reaction because she did just openly defy me, and the other Leaders don’t know how happy I am that the last Drákon is loyal to my wife.
“Thank you, Morgana.” I let her hear the sincerity in my words. “I won’t ask you to tell me where she is, that’s not your job. Just know I appreciate you being on her side.”
Now that it’s clear I’m not displeased, she straightens in her seat and brushes some lint from her dress while studying her cuticles. “You’re welcome,” she curtly says.
I shake my head at her antics, not amused, but not bothered either. I sit back down and focus on the other two Leaders, intent on telling them what I was about to say when Morgana interrupted.
“Acacia and I married this summer before her twentieth birthday,” I say, pinning Arthur and Remus with my authoritative glare.
To their credit, they don’t as much as blink as I explain about our secret marriage, or how I allowed her to keep Liam and Gus. I don’t include Morgana and Lupa’s involvement. That part isn’t for me to share, especially not when I don’t know how the two Leaders would take it. It’s possible they’d consider it treason or disloyalty.
“Who were the witnesses?” Remus immediately asks. “A witness from each family is needed for the marriage to be binding. I might not know you that well yet, Kai, but I know Acacia well enough to know she wouldn’t overlook this part.”
I’m about to remind him of his place, which isn’t to question me, when Morgana speaks up. “I was the Hatt witness, and Lupa on behalf of the Russo family.”
Arthur nods like he already worked that part out for himself. “So the marriage is valid even if it’s not official—”
“It changes nothing, though,” Morgana interrupts. “What you’re looking for isn’t a loophole, Ruler. As I was saying, you’re looking in the wrong places. You can’t nullify Elena’s challenge, you can only change it.”
I raise a brow. “Explain,” I demand.
“Who did Elena challenge? What was her specific wording?” Morgana asks. She’s no longer portraying a statue, excitement sparks in her eyes.
Arthur slams his fist into the table and smiles widely. “Bingo,” he whispers. “I didn’t even think about that because of what Acacia did.”
“Will someone start speaking in full sentences?” Remus asks, clearly exasperated that they’ve worked something out that he hasn’t yet.
I can’t blame him, itisfucking annoying that they haven’t bothered explaining yet.
“Arthur, you were there so correct me if I’m wrong. But Elena openly challenged the Drákon Heir, right? Well, there are two of them. The challenge isn’t directly against Acacia just because she picked up the gauntlet. Technically, another can choose to take the place, as long as it’s one of the two Drákon Heirs.” Morgana leans back in her chair, looking extremely proud of herself.
Well, I’ll be damned. Why didn’t I fucking think about that? Now that they’ve said it, it’s glaringly obvious.
Arthur looks between her and me. “She’s right. Augustus can take Acacia’s place if he so wishes, and they’re under no obligation to inform us who’ll be fighting.”
“That all sounds good and all, but aren’t we forgetting something?” When no one answers Remus, he continues. “Acacia and Augustus aren’t technically Drákons now that she’s married to Kairos.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I admit. “I served her with annulment papers that she signed then and there.”
I had already worked out that if Acacia hadn’t signed the papers, the challenge would indeed be null and void. However, my stubborn wife—because that’s what she is, whether she likes it or not— went and changed the game.
“So she’s not your wife anymore?” Arthur asks.
Even though I should, I don’t add that I haven’t handed said papers over to my Guardian, nor have I filed Acacia’s own documents, the ones where she’s withdrawing from the Society.
Why not? Well, it’s fucking simple; I don’t want to.
“Does it matter?” Morgana asks, saving me from having to outright lie. “I’m pretty sure Augustus will welcome the chance to fight Elena.”
I stay in the room for hours after the three Leaders depart, my only companion is the bottle of bourbon that I’ve almost emptied. I’m just about to make my way back upstairs when my phone chimes with a text.
Morgana: I will keep you updated if there’s anything you need to know. She isn’t safe from her own stupidity and pride, though.
And isn’t that just the fucking truth!
Despite that thought, I still feel a spark of hope that I haven’t felt since my nereid left without looking back at the carnage she left in her wake.
Sevenletters,oneword;courage.
