At Seren’s name, Veylin blanched. Had he even visited the Deep Archives, covering his tracks? Likely not. The queen relied on an element of surprise with her false claim, one Rowan countered by bringing Thalon here.
“It is not forged,” Veylin called down to us. “But neither is?—”
“In holding with Thalassari law, the council will vote,” the queen said loudly, for all to hear. She’d likely bribed or threatened each one of them and would move the proceedings along with her forged document stunt having spectacularly failed.
The crowd’s impatience grew. Some called for them to vote, others for me to step down, and yet others yelled things I could not decipher. But there was something about the chants that was different than before.
Turning, I was startled to realize those behind me, gathered on the shore, were no longer even watching us. Instead, their gazes were fixed on the same stairs I’d descended earlier. I looked at Rowan.
“Do you think it is possible?”
He shook his head, as if in disbelief. “If it were anyone other than Marek, I’d say nay. But I’ve seen him sail, so…” He shrugged as an answer.
“I am sorry, Lady Nerys,” Thalon whispered beside me, “that she attempts to malign you and your family’s good name.”
“Thank you for coming, Thalon,” I said, watching as the crowd alternately gasped and parted once again. At the first flash of white hair, I breathed a sigh of relief. Would it make a difference? It could not hurt my case to have such an ally, for certain.
Finally, I could see them clearly. Marek and his companions moved through the throng of people toward us. She was even more beautiful than Rowan had described.
Unbelievable. Marek had done it.
He’d brought the lost princess of Aetheria to us, and just in the nick of time.
35
ROWAN
They had the precise effect Marek had hoped for when he first told me of his plan. The arrival of Kael and Mev—a prince of Gyoria and princess of Aetheria, united and standing together as one, was a powerful statement about the future of Elydor. One that would not look like its past, a world on the brink of war.
At least, that was Elydor’s potential. We were a long way from such a reality.
“How are you, Rowan of Estmere?” Kael hugged me as if we’d started out as friends when the truth was anything but. He had not trusted me, with good reason. My intentions had been pure, seeking out the lost princess, my alliance with her father long and true. But Kael was perceptive, and like Nerys, could sense there was something more than I’d been able to share.
“You’re a long way from Aetheria,” I said, the stalwart Gyorian as true to his kind as any. Built like the side of a mountain his kind move, it was Kael’s pragmatism that often masked an openness that was buried deep inside. One that allowed him to fall in love with the daughter of his most bitter enemy, now Kael’s ally in recovering the artifacts and reopening the Gate.
“This one,” Mev said, grinning from ear to ear as if the Queen of Thalassaria was not glaring down on us, “is persistent,” she said of Marek. “And I thought Kael was a walking red flag. Holy shit, he has nothing on my husband.”
“Mev.” I opened my arms, squeezing her tight. “Thank you for coming.”
“Red flag?” Nerys asked, staring at Princess Mevlida. She made a striking figure, dressed in traditional Aetherian garb, her flowing silver-and-white robes lifting like ribbons in the breeze. When we first met, her hair had not turned completely white, but now Elydor’s magic had taken hold and it was as startling as it was long.
“You look like a princess,” I whispered.
Mev laughed. “Because I am.” She turned to Nerys, bowing in Thalassari tradition. “You must be Lady Nerys. I am Mevlida Harper.”
“Princess Mevlida of Aetheria,” Kael reminded her, earning a swat on the arm for it.
“Do not correct me in front of others, husband.”
“If you’ll remember, we do not use the term ‘husband’ here.”
“No?” she asked. “Funny, ’cause it seems like I just did.” Mev gave him a look that said,“We’ll discuss this later,”and then said to Nerys, “I’ll explain red flag another time. I’m an expert on the subject,” to which Kael made a sound of dissatisfaction. “They’ve not voted yet?” she whispered to Nerys.
“Nay,” she replied.
“Which are they?”
“Top left, four men, one woman, all dressed in teal and black.”