Page 14 of Once the Skies Fade (Immortal Reveries #2)
Chapter 14
Calla
I wished I could end these blasted Assembly meetings—end the Assembly itself, actually—but my parents had insisted on structuring our kingdom differently from Emeryn. When the War of Hearts split Sandurdam’s original two kingdoms into four over two decades ago, they had the opportunity to design a new process for governing. The chance to create a kingdom built on laws and rules that would hopefully prevent another war of such magnitude.
The Assembly—typically all fae, though humans had served in the past—was elected every ten years from the six regions of Arenysen and was little more than a group of advisors overseen by Graham. In extreme circumstances they could overrule and retract any of the crown’s edicts, but they had never exercised that power. I’d always found their existence rather pointless, but my father had insisted that they kept a ruler’s heart in check, providing sound reason and wisdom.
They were far from offering anything resembling either, though, as they sat here at my table with zero answers for all of my inquiries.
“So, we have no idea who killed my husband? Or how they killed him? Still?” I asked for what felt like the hundredth time since Brennan’s death.
The six advisors looked awkwardly at one another, avoiding my eyes at all costs. I failed to suppress my growl, though thankfully my shadows remained dormant for now.
“I know of the stars-damned rumors, but I did not kill him. I loved him! Why would I?—”
A hand rested gently upon my shoulder, and I turned to peer up at Isa, who gave me a silent warning to calm myself. I offered a small nod. Appeased for the time being, she stepped back a pace, allowing me to resume speaking. Closing my eyes, I sought the comfort of my shadows flowing through me, ensuring the tether I had on them remained firmly in place. Assured I had control of my power, I met the eyes of each fae seated before me, steadied my breath, and spoke again.
“We will not give up on the search for his killer. I know the healers believe it to be an accident, but after all that happened in his home country years ago, we cannot assume a foreign poison wasn’t used.”
Fern, a mousy female from one of the southern regions, responded quietly. “We will do our best, Your Majesty. Perhaps a village from each region could spare a healer for a brief time to assist with the investigation here at the castle?”
“Can any of our villages truly spare someone though?” asked a newly elected male from the north whose name I couldn’t recall.
“To be fair, Warren,” an older male answered, and I mentally noted the new member’s name. “With the banishment of the humans, our villages are now less fragile, less in need of healing.”
I tensed and held my breath. They seemed reluctant to broach the topic of my decision to exile the humans. Each of them, including Graham, who sat to my right, seemed to have bristled at its mention. Even the male who had uttered the words stiffened, apprehension pinching his expression.
Graham cleared his throat and leaned forward to rest his forearms on the table. “Yuri brings up a valid point. We would not need more than one or two additional at any given time?—”
“But why aren’t we discussing the banishment itself?” asked a rigid female with harsh, bitter features who looked as though she were perpetually sucking on a lemon. “Her Majesty has killed a considerable number of humans who refused to leave––and rather gruesomely, I might add.”
Fisting my hands around my shadows, I gritted my teeth. I shifted my feet and fidgeted in my chair, fighting the urge to leap up and scream at her. Graham slid his hand gently over my forearm and squeezed reassuringly. He rose to his feet and stared down at the icy female.
“Ursula, you will not speak of our queen as if she were not sitting before you. You will respect the crown and this Assembly, or you will be removed and replaced. Do you understand?”
Ursula pursed her lips and held Graham’s gaze as she nodded. To my surprise, Graham didn’t return to his seat as he continued speaking.
“We should commend our queen for knowing herself and her own limitations when it comes to ruling the humans. While we may not understand her reasons, we should respect them.”
Ursula straightened in her seat. “I cannot respect the ruthless killing of those?—”
Isa stepped forward, her hand falling to the pommel of her sword. “You mean the killing of outlaws? Of those who know the price of not complying, yet do it anyway?”
Warren threw up a hand. “Then they should get trials! As is customary! You cannot possibly believe these deaths to be ethical, general!”
Isa lifted her chin and stared down her nose at him. “I believe the queen to be worthy of our loyalty, sir.”
Placing her clasped hands on the table, Ursula looked around the room as if she wore the crown instead of me. “She may not be the queen for much longer.”
I froze, though inside a spark of panic ignited in my chest. Graham lowered to his seat, but sat rigidly on its edge, seeming to place most of his weight on the table than his chair as he glowered at the female.
“What do you mean?” he asked, a slight growl rumbling at the edge of his voice.
“Don’t play stupid, Graham. As head advisor, you should recall all of Arenysen law.”
Graham’s head swiveled in my direction, but he peered over my head at Isa with a desperate question in his eyes.
“Would you care to help us remember, Ursula?” my general asked.
Ursula’s gaze settled on me. My shadows itched to slap the smirk off her face, but I maintained my hold on them even as she answered Isa. “When King Brennan died, the assembly met to review the law, as this was the first time our kingdom has ever found itself with only one ruler. It appears your parents, with the aid of the inaugural assembly, intended for Arenysen to always be ruled by both a king and queen.”
“But she is widowed,” Graham protested. “Surely they allowed for an exemption for such a case.”
Warren responded in Ursula’s stead. “In a way, they did. The law grants the widower a mourning period before they must remarry.”
Remarry?
The word sucked the air from my lungs and my chest caved inward. My hands trembled under the table. My palms tingled as my shadows threatened to emerge. My whole body began to shake as tension coursed through me. I attempted to breathe through the panic, but I couldn’t ignore the weight that settled on my sternum.
“How much time?” Isa asked, dropping her hand to my shoulder again.
“One season,” Ursula said curtly.
One season.
“But that is mere months,” Isa argued. “Surely the assembly could consider an extension given the circumstances.”
“To what circumstances are you referring?” I didn’t see who asked the question. My vision blurred as my mind focused on restraining my magic.
“The loss of both her parents and her husband in a mere six months!” Isa said sharply. “Surely, she has been through too much—lost too much—to be forced to open her heart to another so soon.”
Ursula scoffed. “The heart is inconsequential here. She need not love the male to rule with him and produce an heir.”
“I’ll never love again.” The words floated away from my lips on a shaky exhale. Isa squeezed my shoulder.
The advisors, by contrast, continued to discuss the matter as if I wasn’t there.
“At least give her an extra season,” Graham said. “That’s more than reasonable.”
“We will, on one condition,” Ursula said. “She must cease her attacks on the humans.”
My growl filled the room, and I slammed my palms onto the table as I stood, my chair scraping against the wooden floor. “I will stop punishing them when they learn to obey!”
Most of the Assembly members recoiled slightly, but Ursula remained focused on me.
“Then you have a single season, Your Majesty. A single season to choose a new king, or you will be removed and replaced.”
Isa inched closer to me, angling herself so her back was to the Assembly as she whispered in my ear. “You need more time, Calla. Agree to the deal.”
Warren spoke up, clarifying. “Remember, it is one season from the death, giving her only eight weeks.”
I caught Isa’s eye and quietly said, “I cannot let the humans go unpunished.” Before she could argue, I turned back to the Assembly and nodded. “Eight weeks.”