Page 53 of Pawns of Salistya

After a week of negotiations where, not surprisingly, Slaviya and Xylan had continued to butt heads at every turn, Eliasson had called a hold on meetings.

Despite my discussion with Slaviya, she had completely ignored my words – and me, personally – and continued refusing to accept assistance from the Arlomans despite everyone now realising the threat of the tidal beasts. And she had been very vocal about her disagreement for the Doms to work cohesively together, which had naturally set Xylan off and instigated a majority rules vote.

As per Fyriane customs, when there was a need for a vote of this magnitude, the royals were excused from meetings for two days to contemplate their decision. I had taken the opportunity to invite Qynthia for a stroll down to the markets. I needed her alone to ask about the information I needed. As expected, she was delighted to accept my invitation. Apparently, though, Orlandia also thought we were close enough to tag along. Not ideal. But I couldn’t refuse her company without stirring up suspicions.

‘Sorry, ladies, I got lost in my thoughts,’ I sheepishly responded.

‘Hmm, that’s the fourth time you’ve done that in the space of an hour,’ Orlandia commented with a sideways glance. ‘Is there something on your mind?’

Yes and no. Everything and nothing. Where do I start?

I sighed. ‘Just tired. This hosting thing is more demanding than I expected.’

I tried to shake it off like it was nothing, but the knowing look I received in return was evidence enough that it wasn’t working.

Qynthia steered me towards a back alley, away from the crowds and merchant carts, Orlandia trailed behind us. When we were alone, they turned to face me, standing side-by-side. For a split second, I thought I saw a shimmering glow encompass us before the feeling passed as quickly as it came.

‘What do you need?’ Qynthia demanded. The carefree expression of the affectionate woman I’d come to know was replaced with a solemn, firm look. ‘Don’t bother lying to me. I have an uncanny ability to see through fibs.’

And for some reason, I believed her. She may be the Queen of another Dom and potentially someone to watch out for, but deep down my knowing told me she had our best interests at heart. Through the course of the meetings, she hadn’t spoken up much. But when she did, it was in solidarity of Fyriane as a whole. Shewasn’t self-serving – I doubted she even had a selfish bone in her body. She led with empathy and demanded respect in return. I could only give her that respect if I was honest and trusted her.

But trust wasn’t an easy thing for me. Without it, though, I wouldn’t receive the answers I needed, which was seeming to be a bigger risk than I was willing to take. It could be the difference between surviving as a sole ruler or crumbling.

Swallowing the nausea rising in my body, I threw caution to the wind and divulged, ‘I need access to information that will help me understand the tidal beasts. If they’re coming for Arlom, I need to be prepared.’ I omitted asking for information on Wystia and Merlot, choosing to keep my cards close to my chest on that subject. For now, at least. Starting with the tidal beasts was a safe option. It was a well-known, more pressing issue.

Orlandia tilted her head in quiet assessment, while Qynthia nodded understandingly, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. ‘From my time in the archives, I know we have some books on them,’ she began. ‘Whether they have what you require, though, I can’t promise anything. If memory serves, these books are old. Like,oldold Valare. I’m not even sure if they’re in the language we speak.’

Well, that may be a problem. But something was better than nothing. I’ll work on the translator later. ‘How fast could you get them to me?’ I resisted the urge to ask exactly where they were and just teleport there.

She reached her hand out to clasp my wrist, squeezing it reassuringly, her eyes telling me she knew what I wanted to do. ‘It depends on how much you’re willing to trust me.’

My self-control kicked in to stop me from moving away from her touch at the insinuation in her eyes. It was as if she knew my first impulse was to teleport to them right away. Which meant she knew about my magic. But how?

My body stilled. ‘What are you insinuating?’ I asked. The only thing moving was my rapidly beating heart.

‘If I may?’ Orlandia interjected.

Qynthia’s eyebrows creased while the two looked at each other. It seemed there was a silent conversation passing between them. Then Qynthia reluctantly nodded.

What the hell was going on?

‘Promise not to freak out?’ Orlandia directed the question at me, and I responded with a confused frown. I couldn’t really promise not to react to something I had no idea about, and I wasn’t going to stand here and pretend I did.

Orlandia straightened her shoulders, looking me dead in the eye as her body shimmered with gold for a moment. I watched as her body transformed into the Nyarellean woman from the markets.

Holy shit. So, I haven’t been imagining things.

‘I knew I knew you from somewhere.’ My words came out as an accusation.

Her smug grin told me she found this whole situation hilarious. ‘I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the baffled look you gave me when we first met,’ she admitted.

Bloody asshole. Just like her brother. ‘How did you do that and whydid you do it?’

Orlandia hummed, working out an appropriate response. ‘Have you heard of the Ophiscair Prophecy?’ she asked.

My head reared back in familiarity. The Ophiscair Prophecy was what framed the Solistans religion. The prophecy, they claimed, was the reason I was the one they recognised as their leader. It was the reason for their loyalty. But what did it have to do with the tidal beasts?

For the first time, I wished I’d gone to those religion classes instead of stuffing my face with Iris’ sourdough. Maybe then Orlandia’s question would make a bit more sense.

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