Nurturer of Nightmares

Tatiana

Rain assaulted the city beyond us, the window pane rattling in the force of the storm that had started as suddenly as the meeting with Queen Ressila had ended, and I hugged Venali close, quietly singing to him as Lucifer and Erelim discussed our next steps around the table in the room, four plates of food brought up from the kitchens waiting for us.

With the storm so vicious, the Queen of the Northern Isles had invited us to spend the night, free of charge, an offer that we’d quickly taken up, since Madorinne had things she wanted to do tonight. Erelim had winked at us, mumbling that it was likely assassinations that we couldn’t be witnesses to, and we’d been escorted up to this room not long after, Venali arriving only a few minutes ago, sent by Madorinne in a carriage that was guarded by two of her closest allies.

He gurgled wordlessly, almost forming ‘dad’, and I cooed at him, tapping his nose. Was this how Genevieve had felt holding her three children, the novelty of rocking a baby to sleep never wearing off even when your arms began to ache?

I could only imagine the pain she must have felt when Dell had been exiled, too. Even if Venali had the darkest magic conceivable, I would never have sent him away. Ever. Nor could I imagine even entertaining the thought of it.

Lucifer glanced up from his plans to smile at the two of us, Erelim following his gaze before grinning, rising and holding his arms out in question. I nodded, handing Venali to him, and he exclaimed, “Hey, little buddy!” before whisking him out of the room to the nursery we had been lent, giving Lucifer and I some privacy.

Erelim had lost his child, a pain that I didn’t want to imagine either, and it was precisely for that reason that, despite Tarragon being named as Venali’s godfather, Erelim was now considered a close second. Lucifer had been the one to bring it up first, before we’d left the Twisted Isles for here, saying that it might be somewhat healing to Erelim to watch Venali grow up, even if Venali could never replace Lacey.

Erelim had no home now that Revala had fallen, which made offering him a place in Tarvenia’s court even easier… At least, once we rebuilt Tarvenia’s court. We’d named Erelim as Venali’s trainer, since my son would need to learn how to fight just as badly as we did, even if I prayed he never had to use that training.

Lucifer rose, wrapping his arms around me from behind and whispering in my ear, “I’m so glad you’re safe. I was worried, for a while.”

“So was I,” I replied back, “I was stuck in my mind. I hated it.”

“What happened, in that tunnel?” He asked nervously, and I gulped.

“It kept showing me memories. Just my memories. It showed me one of my birthdays, Dell discovering her magic, being exiled… Just went through them. When I woke up, Lazarus was in the tunnel with me. He spoke with me for a bit; tried to convince me to surrender Destiny to him in exchange for the ring, and then when I refused, he left, giving me the ring anyway.”

“Perhaps because he realised Caliem has Destiny?”

I blinked as that final puzzle piece, the one I had been mulling over for ages, fell into place. Lazarus had left the ring behind because Caliem had caught Destiny, and he’d realised it only then!

With the relief of figuring it out came a sinking feeling in my stomach. Lazarus knew Destiny had been captured, which meant we had even less time to get her back.

Lucifer was thinking the same, because he grimaced, saying, “We need to move quickly. Luckily, I think we’ve done what we could to convince Ressila of our need for soldiers. She said she’d give us her decision in the morning. After that, we need to head back to The Borderlands or, if she deigns to allow us, to Caliem.”

“You want to storm Caliem?”

“They have four of our cities. We might as well claim one of theirs.”

“That could end in heavy casualties,” I warned, and he nodded, saying, “It will, but if it gets Destiny back, we’ll then stand a chance at winning back Ordeallan.”

“And if she doesn’t want to lend us soldiers?” I questioned. We were planning everything around the fact that she would agree to help us. What if she didn’t agree?

Lucifer brushed his hand down my cheek, murmuring, “Then we’ll have to create a rebel group. There are plenty of people who will rebel against Caliem’s rule, especially as winter approaches and things grow difficult for citizens.”

Winter. The one season where everybody struggled. Struggled with the cold, with food, with sickness- nobody was safe in winter, and now that Caliem occupied the cities, and thus their supplies, that safety would be even less. People were going to die in droves this year.

Stomach growling at the thought of starving later on, I turned my attention to the four bowls of food.

It seemed to have been tailored to us specifically, although I had no way of knowing how they knew what we ate normally.

Lucifer had food that came from the Sidhe hills, meals that they normally ate down there, while mine was traditional to the Sun Palace.

Erelim’s meal was from Revala, all cooked meats and bright vegetables that sat in a pretty plate, while the fourth and final bowl, designed for Venali, was mashed vegetables with a tiny spoon sticking out from it.

Picking up my own bowl, I dug into it, replying, “We’ll need to take this seriously, then.”

Taking a seat beside me, he smiled, saying, “When have we not? But on the note of seriousness, we have some things to discuss.”

I looked to him, alarmed, and felt my heart begin racing in my chest as I breathed, “Yeah?”

“If Ressila doesn’t give us an army, and we have to create a rebel group, we might have to leave Venali here in the Northern Isles. I don’t like the idea of our son being stuck in the middle of the war.”

“I agree,” I said, tears pricking at my eyes, and Lucifer pulled me to his chest, rubbing my back lovingly. A moment later, something slid down my neck- a tear.

He was crying, too. I hugged him even tighter, the two of us shaking.

Venali was our son, our flesh and blood. The fact that he was our heir made no difference in our decision to leave him here.

The door creaked open, Erelim poking his head in, and I wiped at my eyes, saying, “Come in, Erelim.”

He stepped in, a wide-eyed look in his eyes, and we both rose, sensing his worry.

“Venali is… displaying some kind of magic.”

Blinking, I murmured, “A green one? He’s had that since birth.”

“No. It’s black. He brought a dead flower in the room back to life.”

No.

No, no, no… No.

Lucifer glanced to me, before shaking his head clear, stepping forward to take charge as I tried to process what Erelim had said.

Black magic. Venali had the same magic that had landed my sister exiled from Tarvenia.

“I was lucky. I felt this tingling feeling in my arm, so I put him down, and he grabbed this flower from his cot that had died. By the time I tried to take it from him, it was alive again.”

“So he has black magic?. Dell can train him.” I gaped at my Connected, the nonchalance in his tone. Erelim didn’t seem too bothered now that Lucifer had clarified what had happened, the worry falling from his face even as I felt it growing on mine.

“Dell was exiled,” I said quietly, “because of that magic. Venali won’t be spared from that fear.” Lucifer took my hand in his, urging, “We’ll keep him safe. I won’t let that happen to him. He’s their Prince.”

“My sister was their Princess. Common sense wasn’t their guiding factor when they framed her for her Connected’s death.”

“No, fear was. But Venali will be safe. We’ll make sure of it. I’ll send a letter to Dell asking her for training.”

“They won’t let Dell in.”

“We don’t have to train Venali in Tarvenia. And with the current political situation, it’s best if we don’t. There’s no guarantee any of us will be going back home to a crown anyway.”

Erelim took a step forward, urging, “Lucifer is right, Tatiana. Venali has black magic whether we want to accept it or not. The best thing you can do is train him to control it and then inform him as he ages about the stigma surrounding it.”

Maybe Lucifer and Erelim were right…

My mother had said that Dell and I were perfectly balanced; life and death. Was it truly a bad thing that my son had that same balance?

Taking a seat once again, I nodded slowly, exhaling as I said, “I see your point. Venali will end up their King, eventually.”

“In about forty-thousand years,” Erelim joked, “You know, being a Sevenna and all. You guys are going to be around a lot longer than most of us.”

The information, though I already knew it, hit me right in the heart, Lucifer looking just as uncomfortable as the three of us processed that fact. We would be left behind, the rest of our friends and companions long dead.

Lucifer had already come to terms with the knowledge that he would die long before our son or myself would, but what was even harder to wrap my head around was- “Desterium and Cain will be left behind even after you guys. Heirs don’t age after eighteen.”

Even Seth would be Immortal, now that he was a Demonic-being. Truly Immortal.

I hadn’t wanted to discuss it with him yet, if he truly understood what being Immortal was like. Everybody he knew would pass, and he never would, not unless he got incredibly unlucky. He had Desterium, a small miracle, and the two of them would have Cain, but the knowledge that even after this Immortal War, no matter whether we won or lost, Cain, Destiny and Seth would be left behind to live in the aftermath, provided they weren’t killed in the war, was unnerving.

“A fact that I would rather not think about,” Lucifer admitted, “Destiny could end up Queen of Ordeallan forever.”

We hadn’t thought of that until after her coronation, what an Immortal Queen would mean to the city who went through Royalty like they were handkerchiefs. Eventually, they would grow bored of her, and what then? Assassinations? Framings? Plain old murder?

What if she had a child? An actual, blood-related child, not like Dane, who was simply a child through political association. Would they ask for the child to be the new King or Queen of Ordeallan?

Lucifer had told me that Cain had left to go rescue Destiny, and then retrieve Dane from Ordeallan, Aubrey having fled The Borderlands with her family.

Once we arrived back in The Borderlands, hopefully with an army behind us, I would travel to the Academy, where Dane was last reported to be, to see if he had been collected.

“Poor girl,” Erelim sighed, unfolding himself on the chaise lounge by the window and groaning in relief, rolling his shoulders, “We technically dragged her into this mess, didn’t we? We convinced her to leave the Manor.”

“How so?” Lucifer questioned, looking curious as I grimaced, afraid of what Erelim’s answer would be.

“Well, think about it. She hadn’t left the Manor in thirty-three-thousand years, despite all the shit they do in that court. She was seemingly happy there. Why do you think that is?”

“She thought it was normal, though? It was just life to her.”

“Yeah, and who pointed out that it wasn’t? We did. And remember all those times we called her mission insane and she fought back? She was indoctrinated, and we’re the ones who made her realise it. Then we offered her a way to serve her sentence and wipe away her crimes by coming to Revala. I don’t think she would have taken that offer without the protection we promised her.”

Grabbing a piece of wood from his pocket, Erelim began carving, the knife running smoothly over the chunk, and Lucifer quietly finished eating, mulling over what he’d said. At some point, a servant entered the room with a bottle of wine and the news that Queen Ressila would be delivering her verdict during breakfast in a few hours.

With that message hanging in the air between us, we gladly took the bottle of wine and three glasses offered, and began drinking in silence, worry settling in our stomachs.

Eventually, I rose from the couch with a yawn, Lucifer and Erelim following suit, and we said our goodnights, heading off to our separate beds. Sleep would be almost impossible, but necessary.

Erelim vanished into his own bed, leaving Lucifer and I to find our way to ours, and I dragged the blanket over the two of us, snuggling closer.

Lucifer simply wrapped his arm around me, holding me tightly, and breathed, “Whatever happens in the morning, we’ll be okay.”

Nodding, I buried his reassurance where I needed it most, and closed my eyes…

*

The Queen of the Northern Isles, as it turned out, didn’t rise from her bed until noon, the three of us awake and waiting in the dining room from just after dawn, Venali asleep in my arms.

We’d been offered clothes by the servants, Venali now wrapped in a warm blanket brought from downstairs, and a short bath, but beyond that, nobody had bothered us. We’d simply sat here and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The sun had begun rising outside, servants rushing to open huge glass windows, tying the curtains away from the openings as a heatwave rolled over the island, Madorinne, Haiden and Layne appearing just an hour earlier, Bal’gag trailing silently behind, their footsteps echoing on the mosaic floor. The former had dark circles under her eyes, and I could see flecks of dried blood in her fingernails, while Haiden and Layne were almost too happy, chatting loudly to each other about anything and everything; the disgustingly hot weather, the fine new clothes they were planning on buying, the party they were going to be attending.

Bal’gag sat in a sort of quiet panic, the bags under his eyes almost as dark as Madorinne’s.

Eventually, servants began to rush in, placing platters of bacon, eggs, and huge piles of toast down the centre of the table, tablecloths being whisked out and placed before us, cutlery and plates following soon after. With it came wine, water and juice.

The room, despite being hot, had been designed to look cool, the patterns colourful, intricate, and everywhere. The mosaic on the floor displayed a huge, splaying ocean- a map of the entire Dimension, The Borderlands towards the edge of the room, half-hidden by the curtains. That’s what we were to this island- nothing more than a small handful of islands on the edge of the world, with no significance beyond the fact that we held the only way out of this Dimension. The walls were painted white, but with bright green and blue curtains, golden ribbons, and pink and purple decorations, the room was not devoid of decoration. Even the table was painted to have an image of a sprawling, non-existent island on it, placed just so that any plates would be resting on smaller islands, fish painted to appear as though they were swimming around us.

The backs of the chairs, of which there were twenty, were all decorated with large, beautiful shells, and the wooden door handles of the room had smaller shells set into the driftwood, and on the wall behind the main chair of the table, a huge portrait of Queen Ressila and her daughter, Grand Duchess Elvissa, had been placed.

We remained where we were, watching the servants rush around us, and eventually, one approached me, holding a small bottle for Venali, who was now awake, watching the room with curious, tired eyes.

“Here, your Lady.”

I took it from her gratefully, handing it to Venali, who eagerly began drinking, and Madorinne yawned out, “How did everyone sleep?”

“About as well as you look to have,” Erelim replied, eyeing the food hungrily. None of us were daring enough to start eating without the Queen, with an exception for Venali, since nobody expected babies to wait for Royalty, and Madorinne dropped her head into her hands, breathing, “I got about an hour of sleep. When I came home, Bal’gag was sitting on my private beach, Layne had made a mess of my kitchen, and Haiden was trying to fold my clothes.”

“Trying being the key word,” the male in question said sheepishly, while Layne simply pouted, exclaiming, “Cooking is hard!”

“Why not ask Halina to help you?”

“Halina?” I asked. I hadn’t heard of anyone by that name yet, although it made sense that Madorinne, rich as she was, would have servants of some kind. Today, showing off that wealth, she had dressed herself in her usual Assassin uniform, but had decorated it with bright gold jewellery, her hair and makeup immaculate.

Putting on a show for the Queen.

“She’s Madorinne’s friend, and the third in the Northern Isles Night-Hunters,” Bal’gag explained, “She’s also the only one in the house who knows how to cook, apparently.”

“Surely someone else learnt?”

“Madorinne knows how, but she’s busy, and Haiden can only cook on an open fire.”

“Do you cook, Bal’gag?” Erelim asked, and he said, “I know how to, but nobody eats what I make.”

“That’s because it tastes like someone died in it,” Layne whispered in Lucifer’s ear, my Connected relaying what he said through the connection, “I’m genuinely afraid of Bal’gag’s cooking, and quite frankly, I’m not sure how his Princess previously ate whatever he cooked with a straight face.”

“That’s because thirty-three-thousand years of drinking blood will wear down your tastebuds,” Bal’gag replied cheekily, winking as Layne flushed a bright red, clearly not expecting to be caught, “And ‘my Princess’ wasn’t as big a sook as the rest of you.”

“You say that like you weren’t her Guardian.”

“I was her Guardian, but I was her friend more than anything. I still am.”

“Which was why you were on my beach this morning,” Madorinne sighed, “You were worried about her.”

The doors swung open, promptly cutting our conversation short, and a group of Lords and Ladies began to take their seats, a handful of them recognising Madorinne. They greeted her warmly enough, but seemed worried about why she was here. A few eyed us with contempt, wondering why a group of people they didn’t know were seated at their table, and Madorinne stood, walking over to one of the Ladies who greeted her warmly and said, “My friends are dining here today. May I introduce you, Tatiana?”

I nodded, and Madorinne said, “This is Queen Tatiana of Tarvenia, her husband, King Lucifer of Tarvenia, their son Prince Venali of Tarvenia, and their guard, General Erelim of Tarvenia.”

The Lady went wide eyed, bowing her head to all of us, and I raised an eyebrow at Madorinne as she took her seat again, wondering why she had… inflated our titles. Mine and Venali’s were correct, but why lie about Lucifer and Erelim’s titles?

In a matter of seconds, the news had travelled around the table, the Lords and Ladies of the Northern Isles warming up to us, a few of them even asking, begging, to take Venali from me so I had a chance to eat. I looked down at my son, thanking them for the offer, but explained I would rather hold him. If I needed to use both my hands, I could hand him to Lucifer.

The last thing Venali needed were people poking at his horns or wondering about his eye colour. I could see a few of them were already questioning how Lucifer and I, who looked fairly normal, could have a child who looked so wildly Fae, unaware that we could hide our forms in a way that a baby Faery could not.

The last of the Lords and Ladies took their seats, a few of them in family units, the children as polite-mannered as their parents, albeit with a bit more teasing among themselves, and four Guards entered the room, stationing themselves by the door, stoic expressions on their face.

Queen Ressila and her daughter followed soon after, the Grand Duchess eyeing the room silently, before making her way to her seat beside a Lady of a similar age, the two of them chatting about their morning.

The Queen acknowledged us with a small nod, before taking her seat, announcing, “In one hour, I expect everybody in this room aside from my personal guests to leave.”

Everybody nodded, the Queen motioning for us to begin eating, and I reached forward, grabbing a piece of toast.

Maintaining composure while eating as you starved was difficult, but somehow, we made it through the meal, the seven of us growing bored quite quickly. Even Venali grew restless, reaching for my cutlery as I cut up and devoured an egg, or trying to grab at the fish painted onto the table. People began watching him, amused, and a group of children stood, rushing around the table to play with him, dangling pieces of toast above his hands, laughing as he reached for them. He giggled, too, laughing when they eventually popped the piece of toast into their mouths, pulling faces at him, and it wasn’t until I saw a flash of green in his fingertips that I gently waved them away. He was getting too excited, which was when he was going to start lashing out with magic.

Sure, it was harmless, for the most part, but in a room full of people who knew very little about the Fae, it wouldn’t look good.

I stifled the green glow with my own magic, pressing a kiss to the palms of his hands, and Queen Ressila asked, “How old is your son?” The room silenced, all conversations falling to a stop as everyone turned to listen to the Queen, who had said nothing all throughout breakfast, and I quietly replied, “Oh, a few months old.”

“Has he begun wielding magic?”

“On and off, yes.”

“Is he quite powerful?”

“I’m afraid only time can tell with that,” I said nervously, beginning to wonder where she was leading the conversation, and the Grand Duchess stood, announcing, “Everybody but my mother’s guests clear out! We’ve got diplomacy to discuss!”

The Lords and Ladies quickly abandoned their plates, leaving the servants to clean them up, and within a minute, the room was empty aside from our small group, and the Queen.

Even the Grand Duchess left, following her friend. The Guards remained, as did a cloaked woman in the back of the room, her face hidden. She held a sword on her belt, just another soldier who served the Queen, and I turned away.

The Queen clicked her fingers, a servant rushing forward, and she leaned in to whisper something in her ear, sipping at her wine while the servant vanished from the room, fetching something.

Or someone.

She returned a few minutes later with the General of the Northern Isles, a small scroll in his hands, and the Queen cleared her throat, taking the scroll from the driftwood platter and placing it down before her, her hand resting delicately atop it.

“Last night, we discussed the rather dire circumstances that The Borderlands faced. News of the war had reached us previously, of course, but there was very little knowledge on just who, exactly, you were fighting. I assumed it was simply a civil war among your Royal families. Such things occur far more often than you would believe.”

We nodded, seeing it smarter to agree rather than inform her that The Borderlands hadn’t had a civil war for a good few thousand years.

“The news, and the warning, you have brought about the sort of foe you have lost your war to was quite concerning, particularly your tales of Gods and secret, hidden Dimensions. Quite frankly, it’s all a little absurd to believe in. Because of this, I had someone do a little digging for me. I looked into your histories, your cities, and your family lines. Every Royal family was examined in depth. Despite a few… impurities, and a lack of simple manners, nothing seemed to be too out of place for an island ruled by four separate lines of monarchy.”

“Impurities, your Majesty?” I asked, the Queen nodding gravely, “Yes, my dear. In all my years of ruling, I have never seen an island so disorderly in its governing. Karmona, our trade partner, had by far the cleanest of Royal lines, with your own city being a close second. Lamia and Ordeallan are disgraces, and I was quite shocked to find that, in the case of Ordeallan, a Demonic-being child is considered the Queen there.” Erelim opened his mouth to defend Destiny, only to have the Queen snap her fingers at him, saying, “Not a word yet. It is because of this disorderly, impure conduct that I must insist something is done about The Borderlands, regardless of whether I decide to grant soldiers.”

“The Borderlands was running perfectly fine before-”

“Silence! I have come to the decision that, should you want my help in this war of yours, you will have to agree to place The Borderlands under my jurisdiction. I will become the Queen of The Borderlands as well as the Northern Isles, and any and all Royal lines will be finished. Of course, I will allow those who are currently Royals to take on new titles. The King and Queen of Karmona shall be the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Karmona, the Queen of Ordeallan shall be the First Lady of Ordeallan until she is eighteen, which she will then become a Grand Duchess of Ordeallan, yourself and your husband shall be the Grand Duchess and Grand Duke of Tarvenia, and your son will be the Grand Prince of Tarvenia. The King of Lamia, provided he is still alive, shall be the Grand Duke of Lamia, and his daughter will be the Grand Princess of Lamia. Are there any I’m missing?”

“Queen Selphien of the Lake Palace,” I pointed out furiously, gritting my teeth to prevent myself from snapping a retort after it, “There’s also Prince Cain and Prince Seth.”

“Queen Selphien shall become Grand Duchess Selphien of the Lake Palace, while Prince Cain- Who is he related to?”

“The Queen of Ordeallan. Prince Seth is her Connected.” Who did this woman think she was, believing she could just waltz in and take over the entirety of The Borderlands?!

“Very well. Prince Cain shall be the Grand Prince of Ordeallan, and Prince Seth shall be the Grand Duke of Ordeallan. All of you will answer to my court. In exchange, I will grant you the use of my entire army.”

“That’s not happening,” I argued, Lucifer and Erelim nodding in agreement. Even Madorinne seemed shocked, her jaw hanging open slightly, “You know nothing about The Borderlands- our customs, our way of life, you don’t know anything about it!”

“According to our meeting last night there isn’t much of The Borderlands customs left. I can help you reclaim my land, provided you agree to my terms.”

Reclaim MY land. This woman really wanted The Borderlands all to herself! Why?

“What’s so interesting about The Borderlands to you? We don’t have anything of interest to you!”

“You have land, and you have the Divider. That’s plenty enough for me. Taking control of Karmona would also lessen the costs of trading for my own country. You want to win this war and save the world, and I want more land. Quite frankly, it’s the best deal you’ll get for a while. All of you will be granted land wherever you so wish, not to mention housing, servants, wealth, status, there’s plenty you still get to keep.”

“No. I can’t just hand over The Borderlands to you.”

Queen Ressila seemed willing to fight back against it, obviously desperate enough for the land to continue trying to convince us, because rather than simply retract her bargain, she added, “You’re still going to be able to rule people. With over five cities to control, there will be plenty of work for the Grand Dukes and Duchesses who work for me, and there will be certain benefits. Tithes from those who live on your land, a guaranteed job under my leadership, and perhaps even arranged marriages for the children of the previous Royal families.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I know plenty of people who have eligible children Venali’s age. A betrothal would strengthen not only your claim to a title, but more land, money and a stronger influence over whichever region you’re granted to use.”

“Venali is only a few months old. He doesn’t need to be betrothed, and beyond that, I don’t believe in arranged marriages.”

“Were you and your husband not an arranged marriage?”

“No! We’re Connected! The only member of Royalty in The Borderlands who had an arranged marriage was the Queen of Ordeallan!”

“The child. Yes, I’ve heard. She has a son, too, from that marriage. He shall be the Grand Prince of Ordeallan. I have already found an excellent match for the boy, according to records.”

“The boy was only born a few weeks ago, so I doubt you have any true records. We don’t agree to arranged marriages, nonetheless.”

“Nonsense! As the new Queen of The Borderlands, I decide what you all do and don’t agree with. The Grand Prince of Ordeallan is under that jurisdiction. The young Grand Duchess that I will arrange his marriage with is Grand Duchess Maria of the Northern Isles. She inherited her mother’s title at a rather young age when her parents tragically passed away. This would grant the Grand Prince of Ordeallan a new title: The Grand Duke of the Northern Isles and the Grand Prince of Ordeallan. As that’s rather a mouthful, he will have to abandon one of those titles at some point.”

“We are not marrying off Prince Dane. The boy can barely open his own eyes, and you want to marry him off?!” Erelim said in disgust, his nose wrinkling on his face, “And nor are we handing over The Borderlands to you. Either you give us a better deal, or we handle this war alone.”

“A foolish idea, considering how desperate you were in our meeting last night,” she replied coldly, and I stood from my chair, still holding Venali. Lifting my chin, I declared, “We may be desperate, Queen Ressila, but we’re not so desperate that we would swap one tyrant for another!”

Lucifer and Erelim rose with me, Madorinne calmly watching the interaction, the Queen becoming as red as lava, anger turning her eyes stormy. In the corner, the woman watched on, her sword remaining on her belt, the Guards inclined to do the same. Hugging Venali close, his tiny body pressed against my thundering chest, I added, “Thank you for your time, Queen Ressila, but I think it best if we go back home, now.”

Wherever that home may be…

I would not have my son be a pawn to this woman, especially not if it came with arranged marriages. I intended to never force Venali to marry.

Queen Ressila shot to her feet, a Guard catching her chair before it could topple, and Erelim quickly rose, following Lucifer as the two of them flocked to Venali and I’s side, Madorinne subtly drawing a blade. Bal’gag fell into position beside her, Haiden and Layne flanking them, watching the Guards.

“I have been more than generous in my offer. I am willing to lend an army, in exchange for being named Queen of The Borderlands. I believe you would be fools to not take that offer. With your island in shambles, what stops me from simply invading now and taking that crown for myself? Should I choose to do so, I will certainly not be giving any titles away. You will all simply be executed.”

Executed… Hugging Venali closer, becoming acutely aware of the positions the Guards were in, I hissed, “You dare to threaten my life?”

“Indeed. Let’s not be fools, Queen of Tarvenia. Become a Grand Duchess, and I will let everyone here go, and I will send the soldiers necessary to defend my new land. Refuse, and I will eliminate any threat to my crown right this very instant.”

“I…” Looking over to Lucifer, I froze when I realised that his eyes were locked in terror on something behind me. Turning slightly, I glanced over my shoulder to see a Guard behind me, his spear angled at my throat.

Swinging back to the Queen of the Northern Isles, I snapped, “This is madness! Let us go!”

“Relinquish your titles, and I will. You will go home allies of mine, safe and with your wealth guaranteed.”

Venali began wailing in my arms, an omen of the spear behind us, and I pleaded, “I can’t do this. Please, Queen Ressila, I can’t make that choice!” What would my people think of me abandoning a bloodline that had been ruling for centuries?!

“Guardsman, spear Tatiana Sevenna in ten seconds. When she is dead, spear her son. Hopefully then her husband will find something better to do with his tongue than leave it hanging in his mouth.”

“No! Please!” I begged fervently, “This is my son’s future we’re talking about!”

With a nonchalant wave of her hand, Queen Ressila simply said, “Your son’s future is about to be considerably shorter if you don’t take my offer.”

The Guard behind me stepped forward, reaching to shove me onto the ground, and I shouted, “Fine! I’ll do it! We’ll step down!”

The cloaked figure in the corner gave a subtle nod, their own hand lowering despite it being free of weapons, and I felt my forehead crease with confusion. Who was this person?

Queen Ressila beamed, clapping her hands together and announcing, “Wonderful! Guards, prepare the army to move to The Borderlands! Have Grand Duchess Tatiana and her family escorted back home immediately after signing my contract. From henceforth, I shall be taking control of this war.”

Lucifer rushed to my side, scooping me into his arms, and Erelim began leading us out, Madorinne hissing what we were all thinking, “You’re a selfish bitch, Ressila, and those in this room will not forget that.”

Haiden, Layne and Bal’gag followed us, shell-shocked expressions on the first two’s faces, simple disappointment on the final one. The cloaked figure followed us too, their head down low, and Queen Ressila held up her hand.

“Not so fast, Grand Duchess. You have to sign a contract. I will not take your word as proof.”

Resentment lanced through me, and I handed Venali to Lucifer, clenching my fist as I stormed over, the General growing nervous at the look on my face as I scooped up the contract, unrolling it.

And promptly tearing it.

Throwing the scraps onto the ground, I snarled, “My word is all you’ll get from me, and not willingly! If that negates our agreement in your eyes, then all the better! Invade if you want, but either way, you’ll have to destroy the Sins. The decision as to whether you want our knowledge before engaging them is up to you.”

Coming here had been a mistake, that much was clear now, but there was an army to fight back against Zeella, one tyrant against another.

The question was which tyrant I wanted to win.