Page 132 of Evermore

She pulled herself to her feet, smoothing her dress with trembling hands. “Done.”

“Not done,” I corrected, letting my Remnants swirl at my feet. “I have terms. You will never come for Archer or any of his descendants. You will never seek revenge against me or mine for what happened here today or any day prior to this one. And you speak this bargain with Themis himself as witness.” I glanced at the God of Justice. “Since he’s so concerned with debts being paid.”

“Paesha, no—” Archer’s voice was careful. He’d been trying not to give away too much about our bond. But this wasn’t hischoice. This was about his safety. He would pay this price for me in a heartbeat. I would do the same for him.

I met Thorne’s eyes, seeing the fury and fear warring within. My gaze slid to Vesalia, pulling herself up from the floor. “Do we have a deal?”

She held out her hand, magic crackling between her fingers. “We do.”

I reached for her, but Thorne caught my wrist. “Don’t,” he growled.

“Trust me.”

Something in my voice must have convinced him because he released me, though every line of his body radiated tension.

“Ten years,” Vesalia confirmed.

When my hand met hers, the magic sparked between us. I felt the weight of time pressing down, seeking purchase in my soul. The Remnants screamed their objection, but I forced them away. I would not be the match that sparked the inferno. This seemed a small price to pay. The council members sat frozen, caught between immortal powers beyond their comprehension.

But Archer stood, his voice steady despite everything. “If you’re quite finished threatening each other in my father’s council chamber, perhaps we could return to the matter at hand? Unless you’d all prefer to take this outside and let the mortals handle their own business?”

Themis’s hood turned toward him sharply. “You would?—”

“Yes,” Archer cut him off with a tone akin to Harlow’s. “I would. Because this?” He gestured to the room, to the gathered immortals bristling with power. “This is exactly why my father kept you close enough to watch. Now either sit down and be silent, or get out.”

I felt a surge of pride through our bond. He might not want the crown, but in that moment, he commanded the room like he was born to it. One by one, the gods settled back into theirseats, though the air remained thick with tension. After we sat, Thorne’s hand found mine beneath the table. He hated this moment, likely wouldn’t hear another thing that happened in this room today. But he would be silent and support my decision and that said far more about his devotion to me than any threat of violence. Especially when his power had been failing more and more lately.

“Now then,” Archer said, turning back to the council. “Let’s discuss succession.”

“You mortals and your petty politics,” Bellatora cut in, her armor singing with each step as she moved behind Archer’s chair. “Always so concerned with your tiny kingdoms while the realms crumble around you. You need to grow to survive.”

“With respect,” Lady Catherine, the youngest council member, spoke up though her voice shook, “this is a royal court matter. The laws of succession?—”

Themis’s laugh held no warmth as he tried to step in again. “Laws? I’ve seen your laws. There are others that may qualify for this throne.”

“Enough,” Minerva’s voice cut through the chamber like a blade. She hadn’t moved from her position, tucked between mortals, but I was sure none of them knew she was a god. “You overstep.”

“Do we?” Bellatora’s hand came to rest on Archer’s shoulder, her gauntlet gleaming. “Or do we simply speak truths the mortals are too afraid to face?”

I hoped she could feel the fire from my glare as she tried to mark him.

An elderly man, whose name I couldn’t remember, pushed back from the table. “Please. This meeting was called to address the future of our kingdom. As you’ve been told, you are welcome to stay but please let us continue.” He turned to Archer and the room went still. “While we acknowledge thatKing Aldus formally recognized you as his son, there are… other considerations.”

The woman beside him with a halo of gray hair leaned forward. “Despite your upbringing in the Silk district, you’ve shown little interest in court politics. You’ve deliberately avoided the responsibilities that come with your father’s acknowledgment?—”

“Yet, the man you speak for allowed such concessions. I’m not sitting here pretending I was born to rule. He wanted me here. And I’m here.”

“Nevertheless,” another interjected, “there are other candidates. Those who have actively participated in council matters. Lord Pembrook’s son, for instance, has served?—”

“The law is clear,” Bremen interrupted. “King Aldus publicly claimed him as his son before witnesses. The blood claim cannot be denied, regardless of his short term reluctance to engage with court life. Even I can concede that he hasn’t had time to settle in.”

“Then perhaps,” another said, a calculating gleam in her eye, “we should discuss the other requirement. The one that cannot be circumvented. Marriage.”

“The marriage law remains absolute,” Bremen confirmed. “No unmarried heir may ascend to the throne. It was put in place to ensure stability, to guarantee the continuation of the line.”

In some deep corner of my mind, I knew this. It was why Archer’s dad married Farris’s mom despite being in love with another that had run. But still, to hear them say it… None of us had considered this problem.

The blood drained from Archer’s face, though he kept his expression neutral. I wanted to reach for him, to offer some comfort against this new cage being built around him, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.