Page 15 of Tortured

This can’t be any worse than one of Father’s lectures. I can do this.

We step through the doorway, and immediately the voices hush. About a dozen men and women sitting around a table stand from their seats and bow. Are they honoring my position as royalty or Aneirin’s presence?

A single man stands at the table’s head. He’s dressed from head to toe in silver. A silver circlet graces his brow. This man has an air of maturity that I can’t sense in the others around the room. His grace rivals that of the High Emrys. He reminds me of Aneirin, if he were to have ages of wisdom behind his eyes. The similarity in features is striking.

Aneirin’s father, perhaps?

So he would be a king—his people’s ruler—though I know they don’t use such titles. Even so, he deserves respect. I turn toward him and bow. I’m not sure how to address him though, so I simply say, “It’s an honor.”

“Welcome, Prince Kenrik. It is my honor.” He inclines his head. “I am Lord Ithel. Welcome to Gorlassar. The council is most eager to learn about the mortal world. Please, come, sit.” Lord Ithel gestures to a vacant chair next to him, also at the head of the table.

I join him, not sitting since everyone else still stands. At the head of the table, I’m in an unwanted spotlight.

“Aneirin.” From halfway down the table, Caledu speaks. “You may be excused. This is council business.”

Aneirin stiffens. His face darkens slightly, and he makes a move to leave.

“No.” I extend my hand toward him. “I wish for him to stay. He should hear about Niawen.”

Aneirin turns to Lord Ithel, who nods. Aneirin joins us at the head of the table to Lord Ithel’s right.

Everyone sits in a jarring rustle of chairs that stirs my nerves. We are all nice and cozy, relatively.

I begin to sweat.

Relax. This isn’t about you, Seren says.

Oh, thank the Creator. I sink into my seat. I was beginning to think you’d abandoned me.

I’m not about to miss this. I want to hear what you have to say too.

Lord Ithel addresses the group. “I want to remind the council that today’s sole purpose is to learn about Lord Caedryn and Niawen’s current state. We’ve only heard what Seren was able to tell us so far.”

You’ve told them things already? I ask.

They held council with me, Seren says.

What else could I possibly tell them that you don’t know?

Just start from the beginning.

From the beginning. Not easy, I say.

Lord Ithel continues. “Think of Prince Kenrik as an ambassador from Bryn. We are not here to pass judgment. We are here to learn from him. So I ask that you listen with open hearts.”

Members of the council nod.

I take a deep breath. “I’m not sure what else I can tell you that Seren hasn’t. She told me to start from the beginning, so I will start from meeting Niawen.”

“This is before she was exiled, correct?” This is from a woman with startlingly long lashes.

“Yes. Uh . . .”

“Lady Jenna.”

“Lady Jenna,” I begin. “When Niawen showed up in our kingdom, uh, Talfryn, she healed an injured man. My mother, Queen Sorfrona, was sick and dying, so we asked that she come to the palace and heal her.”

“And she came willingly?” another lady asks.

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