Page 48 of Her Cruel Redemption (The Dark Reflection #3)

Chapter Forty-Eight

T he list was long. Too long.

I traced the ink with my eyes, watching how the letters blended into the parchment where damp fingers had pressed too hard. A clerk stood at my side, reading in a low monotone, pausing only when something or someone of note was identified. The rest were just names, or descriptions when there was not even that. Lives reduced to ink and paper.

Across the table, Mae sat rigid, shoulders drawn tight, her gaze dragging over lines of text. Her spiral curls hung limply around her face, uncared for, and her violet eyes were bloodshot.

‘Nothing?’ I asked softly.

She didn’t answer. She only swallowed, gripped the edge of the parchment, and turned to the next page. I could only imagine the tension she sat with, the anticipatory grief, waiting to find a specific description among the unidentified. Mae hadn’t spoken much of her part in the fall of Port Howl, but her silence said enough. She had met with Orym, the woman she loved, under false pretences. Orym had trusted her enough to come to the postern door after dark, to open it and let her through. I didn’t know what had happened once she was inside, but Mae had found the mechanism for the portcullis on the main gate and lifted it, clearing the way for our forces. In the chaos that had followed, Orym had disappeared. We didn’t know whether she had been cut down in the fighting, trampled in the crush of bodies, or if she’d managed to make it to the burning harbour and onto a ship before the final push. There were no concrete answers. There was only the list.

I exhaled slowly. This was what victory looked like. Not the banners raised over the city. Not the cheers when the gates had fallen. But loss, measured in ink.

I hadn’t understood, before. Not truly. It had been so easy to speak of righteousness when I was still in exile, when my dreams of reclaiming the throne were sharp and untarnished. But war didn’t treat dreams with any care. War hollowed them out, stripped them down to something cold and unyielding until I began to feel shackled to my purpose instead of inspired by it. What had been won, and at what cost? When I finally resurrected Brimordia, would I spend my reign counting the dead? Could I justify that when I knew those we fought had been driven into this conflict only to liberate themselves from generations of subjugation?

But if I didn’t persist, every name on these lists would be for nothing.

My voice was steady as I asked, ‘How many remain unidentified?’

‘A few hundred, Your Highness,’ the clerk replied. ‘Mostly enemy forces, though we’ll continue to record their descriptions faithfully as you’ve requested.’

‘Make sure you account for every single enemy soldier we’ve buried,’ I said firmly. ‘They deserve the right to be known as much as our own dead do.’ Beside me, Elias touched a hand to my back, lending me strength, reading the sorrow I was trying not to show, and on his other side Tanathil was steadily recording any of the dead he suspected were Yoxvese. He’d volunteered for this task, grimly determined to take his list back to the Living Valley so their loved ones would know what had happened to them. He’d been quiet since Goras was brought back. He sat so unusually still as he worked, and I missed his usual shifting and jigging and humming. I was worried about him. But I was even more worried about Mae.

‘Princess Gwinellyn.’

I looked up at the sound of Vic Gedelli’s voice. He stood in the doorway, looking more careworn and ruffled than usual without one of his flamboyant hats.

‘Vic,’ I replied with the casual greeting, offering him a faint smile that he readily returned.

‘Forgive the interruption. His Majesty requests your attendance.’

He and Esario and the other Oceatold ministers and advisors had been locked in rooms dealing with stabalising the city for several days. While their focus was on such matters, my presence hadn’t been needed. The fact I was wanted now made me uneasy, since this surely meant they were ready to begin making decisions about our next move. We may have driven the invaders out of Port Howl, but that didn’t mean we’d won the war.

‘Now?’ I asked.

‘It’s urgent.’

My sense of unease thickened as I pushed back from the table, my gaze tunning over my downcast friends. Weighing their sacrifices. ‘Alright,’ I said, rising to my feet. ‘Are my own advisors welcome?’

‘Of course,’ he said immediately. ‘I’ve already taken the liberty of collecting them.’

‘Good.’ I extended a hand to Elias. ‘Come on.’

He stared at it for a moment, before glancing up at me. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I need you.’

He nodded, accepting my hand and leaving his chair.

‘Mae? Tan?’ I prompted, looking from one, then to the other.

A little energy ignited in Mae’s expression, a spark in her eyes. She rose to her feet. Tan remained seated, gaze flicking between me and his list.

‘It’s up to you,’ I said gently. ‘You can keep working if you’d prefer.’

He nodded, looking back down at his list and gripping his pen tightly. ‘I’d like to get it finished.’

I inclined my head, accepting the choice, before following Vic out of the room with the others.

The room that had been adopted as the council chamber was already stuffy and stale. Too many hours of tense discussions had thickened the air, and those waiting at the table looked tired. Esario looked up as we entered, raising his brows as his gaze travelled over Mae and Elias. They sank back low again as I quietly asked one of the room’s attendants to add two more chairs to the table. The attendant hesitated only a moment before nodding and moving to fetch the chairs. Silence settled over the room.

Esario was the first to break it. ‘Gwinellyn,’ he said smoothly, though there was an edge to his voice. ‘I was not aware we would have… additional guests for this meeting.’

‘I didn’t think I needed to ask permission,’ I replied, taking my seat at the head of the table. The attendant returned, placing the extra chairs. Mae and Elias didn’t move at first, and I could feel their hesitation like a tangible thing. I turned to them, offering a nod. ‘Please, sit.’

Esario exhaled sharply through his nose. ‘The discussions taking place in this room are sensitive. Only members of your council should be privy to them.’

‘That seems sensible. Elias and Maelyn have a seat on mine. They need only the formalities to solidify it.’

This news sank through the room like a stone. A stunned stillness followed it. I could almost feel Grand Weaver Dovegni’s rising rage, like he was a furnace somewhere to my left. I didn’t look at him, though. His anger was none of my business. I wasn’t here to make anyone at this table comfortable.

‘Gwinellyn,’ Esario said again, carefully measured now. ‘That’s a significant decision. Surely such a thing requires more discussion.’

I sat taller, stiffening my spine. I wouldn’t let them make me feel small or stupid. I knew this was right. ‘I don’t remember a discussion about every member of your council, Esario.’ For a beat, I wondered if he would continue to challenge me. But then he cleared his throat and settled back in his seat. I felt a faint glow of victory, and it steadied my heartrate.

‘Very well,’ he said, his tone clipped. ‘Let it be noted that Princess Gwinellyn has extended an invitation to her friends to sit among us.’

A murmur ran through the table, but no one openly objected, though there were several glowering sneers shot towards Mae and Elias, who remained silent, watchful. I doubted this was the end of the matter, but for now it seemed like whatever Esario wanted to discuss was more important to him than challenging me. Which was a good thing for him, because it would be embarrassing when I refused to back down.

The king tapped a finger against the polished wood. ‘Now, if we are finished rearranging the seating plan, shall we turn to the matter at hand? We’ve received word from the enemy.’

I exhaled sharply. ‘An offer?’

‘A bargain. General Morozov, will you fill us in?’

Morozov leaned forward to speak. ‘A faction of Ashreign’s forces have made contact. They’ve cited claims made by Princess Gwinellyn that she’ll open her council to include a host of new voices if she sits the throne.’ His gaze flicked to Mae. ‘They’re willing to sit down and negotiate a new order on this basis.’

Esario snorted. ‘A faction? So they’re dangling an offer of peace without Soveraux’s knowledge, I suppose?’

Morozov nodded. ‘I would assume so. Given that it comes with a promise to turn him over to us.’

My mouth fell open. ‘ What?’

‘He’s a lit fuse on a powder keg,’ Morozov continued. ‘They know he’ll need to be removed if they ever want to see an end to the conflict. And as they put it, there aren’t many who’ll stick their neck out for him at this point. He’s been a means to an end, but they’re ready to see that end.’

‘Are you sure they’re willing to betray him? He’s led the alliance and he’s Ashreign’s king. He must command some loyalty,’ Esario said, rubbing his chin. ‘Why would they turn on him now?’

‘Because we’ve driven them out of Port Howl,’ Lord Faucher chimed in, smacking a fist on the table. ‘They’re running scared!’

‘It would seem it has more to do with his own mismanagement than anything,’ Morozov continued evenly, unmoved in the face of Faucher’s enthusiastic pride. ‘He’s lost the confidence of his forces, and they hinted at a physical weakness of some sort. On top of that, he has a standing order that Rhiandra Tiercelin is to be taken alive. Harmed under no circumstances on pain of death. She’s throwing bolts of lightning, and his soldiers are supposed to turn their weapons away. What kind of loyalty do you think that commands?’

My pulse hammered in my throat as I tried to grasp the enormity of what Morozov was saying. A standing order that Rhi be taken alive… I had seen enough of Rhiandra and Draven by now to know that whatever was between them was powerful and lethal and utterly convoluted. What would she do if she knew he was going to be taken prisoner?

Vic added his voice to the conversation now, frowning as he said, ‘So, if we accept their offer, they deliver their king to us and… what? Expect a seat at this table?’

Morozov nodded. ‘That was the implication.’

A wave of muttering broke out as the councillors discussed this with their neighbours.

‘What do you think?’ I murmured to Mae and Elias. ‘Could it be true?’

Mae licked her lips, before leaning in to speak. ‘I think so. Orym…’ Her words seemed to catch in her throat. She cleared it and continued. ‘She said as much to me… when we spoke. News of what you said at the negotiation has spread through their ranks. There are a lot of our own people at least who want to hear you out.’

I felt a surge of disbelief at Mae’s words, but also a warmth. This wasn’t just about political manoeuvring anymore. I’d come into this war to fight for the Yoxvese. What if I could unite their fractured people and bring back the sons and daughters who’d felt forced to leave their home to chase justice?

Esario raised a hand to silence the room, and his voice dropped low. ‘Entertaining this offer would be rewarding treachery with power, but it is not my crown and council they’ll compromise.’ His gaze flicked to Mae and Elias, then to me. ‘What do you say, Gwinellyn?’

For a moment, I felt exposed. The walls felt closer, the scrutiny sharp. Some of my own council were subtly trying to catch my attention, to no doubt call for a chance to discuss in private. But I had already made my decision. I nodded. ‘I want to at least have the conversation.’

‘Good,’ Esario said, clapping his hands together. ‘I’ve been eager to hang the bastard since the news of the invasion.’

‘Might I suggest burning, Your Majesty?’ Dovegni suggested in a low drawl. ‘Seems only fitting, since it’s been the method he himself has favoured.’

‘You’ll execute him?’ I repeated, and Madeia forgive me, but I’d been so busy thinking about the offer that I hadn’t spared a thought for price. But of course, Draven would be executed. And of course he deserved to be executed. I didn’t know why I was suddenly nursing a sharp sadness. Maybe it was just that there had already been so much loss, and I wasn’t eager to see more. Maybe I was just thinking of what Mae had told me, of how he’d crossed a battlefield with Rhi limp in his arms to hand her to someone who would look after her.

‘We’ll make a spectacle of trying him first,’ Esario said, running a thumb across his lower lip, gaze fixed on the window, now, a satisfied smile curling the edges of his mouth. Then his gaze swivelled to me. ‘Best to keep this from your bloody lightning wielder, though, Gwinellyn,’ he said, flicking a hand.

I felt myself icing over as I prepared myself to defend Rhiandra yet again. ‘She’s proven her loyalty over and over again now.’

‘And then she went missing for several days after we were all sure she’d drowned,’ Dovegni said, tracing a finger around the rim of his water glass.

I shot him a steely look. ‘She said she washed ashore.’

Dovegni offered an unpleasant smile. ‘Quite the stroke of luck. A storm like that, with the current pulling south, and her in the state she must have been in.’

‘She’s alive,’ I said stonily. ‘That’s what matters.’

He inclined his head, the picture of easy agreement. ‘Of course. But if I was going to guess at how she survived, I would have said that someone must have pulled her from the water. Miraculous that she managed it unassisted.’

His insinuation pressed in like a held breath, and it left me wondering as much as I was sure everyone else at the table was.

‘I’m not saying she would betray us,’ Esario continued when I didn’t speak. ‘I’m only saying that she’s rash and she refuses to follow orders. She marches to the beat of her own drum and we’re only in alliance because our needs align with hers. The moment they don’t, she’ll do what suits her. That’s not the sort of loyalty we need in wartime.’

‘And we’ve unleashed her on the world,’ muttered Dovegni. ‘Which will be our task to solve once this is over.’

Esario shot him a look, and he didn’t say anymore, but I didn’t miss the urgency in that expression.

And I suddenly I remembered that conversation Draven had paid three hundred lives for. When she ceases being useful to them, they are going to turn on her.

A chill traced down my spine.

I looked around the table, at those who sat in judgment of Rhiandra, weighing her worth, calculating how long she would remain an asset before she became a problem to be solved.

Esario sighed, rubbing his temple. ‘For now, we move forward with caution. We see what this faction has to offer. But as for Rhiandra…’ He levelled me with a measured gaze. ‘We watch her. Closely.’

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room.

I nodded as though I agreed. But beneath the table, my hands were clenched tightly together.

Because I knew what Esario and Dovegni didn’t.

Rhiandra wasn’t a weapon.

She was a storm.

And when they turned on her, I wasn’t sure they would survive it.