Page 47 of Sundered By Fate

Aric rubbed his chin as he considered it. “I have heard the old High Lords often used magical artifacts as foci for their powers. Maybe your replica could be much the same.”

“Perhaps, perhaps.”

They moved on to a colossal tapestry depicting the founding of Astaria—the clashing armies of humans and demons across the silvered fabric, strands of gold and silver thread gleaming in the torchlight. Valerian paused before it with a solemn nod.

"The city's foundings were not without sacrifice." Valerian's voice was soft but carried in the vaulted hallway. "When humanity staked its claim on this land, we called upon every power at our disposal—both natural and otherworldly. And yet here we stand." He turned, those piercing blue eyes settling on Aric again.

"Here we stand," Aric echoed, though his thoughts were back on Malekith and the words he'd heard spoken before in the demons' lands, whispers he’d spied in the ancient tomes in the House Ixion library—the claims that humans had taken what was rightfully demon-held land. Aric watched the skillful brushstrokes that captured every nuance of battle in brilliant color; he'd thought he understood this war once. Did he still?

Valerian caught his eye again with a lingering look that spoke volumes beyond the history lesson they were sharing. His hand brushed Aric's shoulder as if merely steadying himself—but there was a touch more there, wasn't there? A warmth and firmness that sent sparks along Aric's nerves; an invitation, intentional or no.

Aric met his stare unwaveringly, though his heart pounded furiously against his ribs.

He was playing with fire here—the Lord Regent seemed a gracious host thus far, but if their little dance turned darker . . .

Then Aric would just have to meet shadow with flame. It would hardly be the first time.

As they exited the palace, Aric was struck by the bustling energy of Astaria's streets. Valerian guided him through the city's main square, where merchants hawked exotic wares and street performers entertained crowds. Aric marveled at the diversity and vibrancy of the city, a joyousness he'd all but forgotten while a prisoner in the demon lands.

Valerian explained his efforts to maintain this prosperity despite the ongoing demon threat. "We've strengthened our trade alliances with neighboring realms," he said, pointing to a line of caravans laden with spices and textiles. "It's important we present a united front, even if internal tensions make it difficult sometimes."

Aric could only nod, still reeling from everything he had learned since his return. Yet he couldn't help but notice the way Valerian's chest puffed with pride as a group of citizens approached them, showering him with praise for his leadership.

"The Lord Regent saved my husband's life," one woman gushed, and as Valerian nodded to his guard to let her through, she reached out and grasped Valerian's hand. "Our farm was nearly overrun by demons last spring, but thanks to his quick action, we were able to drive them back."

"It's nothing," Valerian demurred, though Aric saw the pleased glint in his eyes. "Just doing my part for the kingdom." He looked over to Aric, that glint barely stifled as he seemed to judge whether Aric was similarly impressed, before pulling away from the citizens with a nod of apology. "If you'll excuse me."

They continued on through the crowd, Valerian stopping occasionally to offer words of encouragement or a sympathetic ear to those who sought him out. Aric watched from the sidelines, torn between admiration for Valerian's deft handling of public affairs and an undercurrent of suspicion that no one could be this popular without hiding something dangerous beneath it.

As they continued their tour, Valerian guided Aric into a bustling governmental district that seemed to pulse with the city's heartbeat. Courtiers and officials hurried by, their voices a symphony of clipped words and rustling parchment as they carried out the day-to-day running of Astaria. Valerian's own demeanor shifted as they walked, the easy charm he'd displayed earlier now tempered with an air of authority.

"This area oversees the administration of our laws and treaties," Valerian explained, his voice rising above the din. "From here, we coordinate our defenses against demon incursions, manage our alliances with neighboring realms, and attend to the myriad concerns of our people."

Aric nodded. It was easy to admire Valerian's confidence and poise as he spoke—his words clear and precise, his presence commanding without being overbearing. Aric allowed himself to be swept up in Valerian's vision for the kingdom—this steadfast determination to protect their people while striving for a brighter future.

And then a voice sliced through the crowd like a knife.

"Lord Regent." The words were delivered with a sneer as a well-dressed courtier approached, his dark eyes flashing with contempt. "I must have a word with you about your latest decree."

Valerian's expression hardened as he turned to face the courtier, his mouth drawing into a thin line. "Ah, MinisterEdran." His tone was icy now, all traces of warmth gone. "I trust it is important."

Edran sniffed, folding his arms across his chest. "I question the wisdom of your decision to allocate additional resources to the Borderlands garrison at this time. We should be pulling our forces back to defend the kingdom’s core now"

Aric felt Valerian bristle beside him, though he kept his voice even. "What, and cower behind our city’s walls? No. I believe it is time to take the fight to the demons themselves."

Edran smirked. "That is far beyond what King Aster would approve, and we both know this. Or perhaps you are simply trying to curry favor with the border lords in preparation for your—ambitious plans?"

Valerian's eyes flashed with anger, but he said nothing.

Valerian's smile returned, sharper now. "You presume to speak for the king in his absence, Minister? I find that rather presumptuous." He took a step forward, forcing the courtier to crane his neck to maintain eye contact. "Need I remind you that in King Aster's stead, it is I who makes such decisions?"

The color drained from Edran's face as he scrambled to backpedal. "I—I meant no disrespect, Lord Regent. I merely wished to?—"

"You will speak to me with the respect due my station." Valerian's voice was low but carried a honed edge now, one that sent an involuntary shiver up Aric's spine despite himself. "Or you will find yourself out of the court so fast your head will spin."

Edran gulped, and Aric almost pitied the fool. Almost. "Yes, Lord Regent. Of course."

"Now, if you have concerns regarding my policies, you may submit them through the proper channels."

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