Page 119 of The Second Death of Locke
“I will take my ambassadors to their rooms. Will you show those responsible for command our armories, then direct them into the war room and have their captains arrange their forces?”
“Yes, my lady.” He hesitated, for just a second. “Will you take Ola and Brit with you?”
“I will, if you bring Eron.”
He nodded, and took leave of her without another word. Her new ambassadors did not seem to notice anything at all between Grey and her commander—she wasn’t hiding their relationship, but she wasn’t yet sure how she wanted to navigate it publicly.
They made their way up from the docks to the fortress. There, Grey showed the ambassadors the new war room and then the rooms she and Kier had prepared for diplomatic guests, where she left them to clean up and change.
They beat Kier and the commanders into the fortress. In the war room, without the others, Grey locked the door and turned to Brit and Ola. “Okay,” she said. “I don’t know how much time we have, but what happened since we left? How long has it been?”
Ola winced. “About two days. After you and Kier jumped, there were a few skirmishes, but no real engagement. Waiting to see what happened next, I suppose.”
Grey nodded. It had been longer than two days on the Isle, but she was glad for the time dilation and the reprieve it granted. “Did you have the chance to see Scaelas?”
“Yes. He was furious at you.”
“They didn’t really know what to do with us at first,” Brit said, leaning against the table, already spread with maps. “Sela was with us for a bit and told us what she could, but otherwise we just kind of… watched. And waited. Pretty much as soon as you two jumped, there was this thick fog over the bay—both Scaelas and Epras sentships, but it was the oddest thing. They came sailing back within the hour, turned around and redirected. No one could get the full way across, through the fog.”
Grey nodded. She had suspected some sort of shielding, some natural protection as the Isle came back into existence.
“We thought you were dead,” Ola said, not meeting her eye.
“You know me better than that.”
Someone tried the door, paused, then knocked. Grey sighed and reached for the handle. “Let me,” Ola murmured, shooing her away. Grey went, taking her seat at the head of the table.
Ola opened the door to Kier, Reggin, Dainridge and a few other assorted masters and captains and their Hands. Grey watched as they filed in, seating themselves around the table: Kier to her right, Reggin and Dainridge close beside with Reggin’s Hand behind them. In the absence of their sovereigns, Ikaaron and Yearna sat in the positions of Scaelas and Cleoc. Brit and Ola fell into position behind Grey; she presumed Kier had left Eron in charge of organizing the forces still assembling in the harbor.
Every eye was on her, expectant. After a beat, she turned to those around her. “Commander Reggin, Commander Dainridge. Masters. Ambassadors. I welcome you to Locke, though I wish it was under better circumstances. This is Commander Seward, the head of my forces on the Isle.”
Beside her, Kier very nearly smiled. She couldn’t tell if it was because she’d referred to him by his title, or because he was the entire extent of her forces on Locke.
“If we could be informed of the situation in Idistra, we can begin from there,” she said.
“Lady Maryse,” one of the Scaelan masters at the end of the table started, speaking out of turn. “It appears that—”
“Locke.”
A silence spread over the room as every eye turned to Kier, Grey’s included.
“Sorry, Commander Seward?” the master said. He was old enough to be Kier’s father.
Kier raised an eyebrow. “Would you call your own High Lord byname?” The silence was not broken; Grey forced herself to sit straight and tall, unflinching. “She is Locke, Master.”
The master glanced at her, and to Grey’s surprise, he did not look angry—he lookedashamed. They did not hate her.
They feared her.
“My apologies, your majesty,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” Grey said, pushing away any lingering discomfort. She nodded to her allied commanders. “Your reports, please.”
“Your majesty,” Ikaaron said, bowing his head. He glanced sidelong at Yearna, then launched into his explanation. “Epras and Luthos have declared that their prisoner, Captain Kier Seward, was rightfully captured by their forces, and wrongfully freed by Scaelas. Now that your new Commander Seward has been revealed and is clearly not Locke…”
Grey looked at her hands, and did not correct them.
“… they have insisted that a repayment is due. In return, they have declared that the High Lady should accept the same terms Commander Seward agreed to: marry a suitor of their choice and restore power. If these terms are accepted, they will agree to a treaty with the Isle, and will cease their wars with Scaelas and Cleoc in return.”
