Page 18

“Is Damion alright?” he asked Esmeralda timidly, bracing himself for her response.

“The horse?” Esmeralda guessed, her eyebrow arching elegantly.

Grayden nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck.

“Yes, the horse is fine. We have a small stable on the west side of the beach and he is housed there. Some guards found him wandering the beach. We managed to get him into a stall before he caused too much trouble. He's a wild thing, that one.” Her voice held a note of amusement, and Grayden felt some of his tension ease.

Grayden looked at Esmeralda with such sincerity, gratitude welling up inside him. “I have much to thank you and your brother for. First and foremost, for offering Renya shelter when she needed it most.” The words felt inadequate to express the depth of his appreciation.

“It was no trouble at all,” Esmeralda replied, eyeing Renya carefully. Grayden caught Renya looking back at her meaningfully, but he wasn't sure what it meant. There seemed to be an unspoken understanding between the two women, and he made a mental note to ask Renya about it later.

“My brother would like to have a word with you, Prince Grayden, before you depart. I'd also like to visit with Renya as well.” Esmeralda's tone was casual, but Grayden could sense the importance behind her words.

“Of course,” Grayden replied, his mind already racing with thoughts of the alliance. “King Triston and I have much to talk about. Is he in the throne room?”

“He is, and he's waiting for you,” Esmeralda replied, linking her arm through Renya's and pulling her down the corridor. Grayden watched them go, his eyes following Renya until she disappeared around the corner. Only then did he turn and head in the opposite direction towards the throne room, his steps echoing in the empty hallway.

Rather than sitting in the large pearly throne like before, Triston was casually perched in a straight-backed wooden chair at a large table off to the side of the room. Grayden remembered the war table from visiting as a small child. The entire surface of the table was carved into a map of their world, a masterpiece of craftsmanship and strategy combined. The dark wood rose to form mountains; canyons were depicted by large indentations where the wood was carefully shaped away by master hands. It was as much a work of art as a strategic tool, a tangible representation of the world they were fighting to protect.

Grayden tried to hold on to the calm he felt after spending the entire night beside Renya. Now that she was out of his sight, the anxiety crept in and put him on high alert. He suppressed his rising panic and urged himself to think rationally. He knew, however, that whenever Renya was concerned, reason often left on a lengthy journey and he was left with nothing but erraticism. He breathed deep and focused, needing this conversation with Triston to go well. The future of their kingdoms, and perhaps the entire world, could hinge on this alliance.

Triston gave Grayden a nod of acknowledgement as he approached the other side of the war table. The gesture was small, but it carried the weight of mutual respect between rulers.

Grayden studied the table, vaguely recognizing certain aspects of it that lingered in his memory. The Tidal Kingdom, of course, was in the center of the map and all the other realms, kingdoms and lands spiraled out and away towards the edges. Grayden found his own lands on the maps, admiring the minuscule carving of his lodge at the foot of snowy white-painted mountains. The word 'Snow Lands' was scrolled, the faded letters curling around the minuscule model lodge. With a pang of sadness, he read his father's name there, and then his own name, superseding him. The sight was a stark reminder of the responsibilities he now carried, the legacy he had to uphold.

Phillippe's name was written in and burnished out. Like most of the other noble houses, the Tidal Kingdom went by magic for inheritance and succession. Once it was common knowledge that Grayden wielded magic and Phillippe did not, his brother was removed. Grayden despised that kind of prejudice, especially when his people got along fine without magic until Cressida came along and destroyed the balance of things. The thought of his brother, and the unfairness of their world's reliance on magic, sent a surge of determination through him. He would change things, make their world better, more just.

“What a mess that monster has made of things, eh, brother?” Triston asked, his voice pulling Grayden from his thoughts.

Brother. That was a good start. It seemed Triston was going to work with him to unite their kingdoms against this threat from Cressida. The use of the familial term gave Grayden hope for the strength of their potential alliance.

Grayden sighed, still not taking his eyes off the table. The weight of what he was about to share settled on his shoulders like a physical burden. “I need to confess something if we are going to move forward with this alliance.”

Triston just stared, his face a mask of impartiality. But Grayden could see the curiosity burning in his eyes, the slight tension in his posture betraying his interest.

“Renya is most likely pertinent to this upcoming battle. I don't want the information widely spread, because I'm terrified someone will try to use her as a weapon or turn her over to the Shadow Queen. But there's a prophecy—”

“The Sun Realm Scrolls?” Triston interrupted, leaning forward slightly, his composure cracking to reveal genuine intrigue.

“Yes, you've heard of them?” Grayden was surprised their existence was known outside of the Sun Realm and the spies who reported their findings to his father many years ago. The revelation made him wonder what other secrets Triston might be privy to.

“I thought they were a myth, but as times get more desperate, I've started looking for hope in what I thought were hopeless places,” Triston answered, his voice low and thoughtful. “What do they say about Renya? I'm guessing she plays into this?”

Another heavy sigh escaped Grayden's throat. The burden of knowledge weighed heavily upon him, but he knew sharing it was necessary for their alliance. “Yes. Her aunt confirmed it before she left—Renya is the last known descendant of the Sun Realm.”

“I should have known,” Triston said, closing his eyes as if searching deeply for a long-forgotten memory. “Renya…it's a Sun Realm name.”

“Yes. Bringer of light. The prophecy states she will bring magic back to our world. But beyond that, I don't know how it will occur. But if you are offering to unite against the growing threat of the Shadow Realm, I wanted to make you aware of what I know.” Grayden's voice was steady, but inside, his emotions churned like a stormy sea.

Triston looked thoughtful, his eyes darting to the model map before glancing off into the distance. The silence stretched between them, filled with the weight of possibility and danger. “Well, if nothing else, this gives us hope, does it not?”

“Hope can be a dangerous thing,” Grayden said, thinking of how Tumwalt always dismissed the fanciful rumors that often made their way to the snowy gates of the lodge. But even as he spoke the words, he felt the spark of hope in his own chest, burning bright and unquenchable. “But in this case, I will bet everything I have in favor of Renya.”

“Because you love her?” Triston's question was direct, his gaze piercing as he studied Grayden's face.

“Because I believe in her. She has strength and bravery I’ve never encountered before. She has more courage than most of my men. She survived the nightmare dungeons in the Sunset Land and even killed a tygre. She’s the most…singular woman I’ve ever met.”

Even Triston looked impressed. “Well then brother, should we talk about strategy?”