P R E V I O U S L Y
"There still remains one person in the world who holds that kind of power," Eric said quietly, turning his gaze to me as did the rest of the room. "Edwina herself."
RYVVENDEL MANSION, BELLHAVEN, STEFFITH.
EDWINA
It was three days before the Halflings saw fit to send us an answer.
We arrive at midday tomorrow.
Nothing else. Just five words. No details of who else would come, just the harsh, cold reply. They did not specify the location, and neither did they leave the day of meeting open to suggestion. The words were emblazoned in fine, jet black ink, darker and deeper than the blood of our enemies.
The Halflings owned and lived on three states. Elleria, Azura and Rentis. The rulers were three siblings, ancient beings that held the land. A male called Randall was the eldest, and lord of Elleria. His younger brother was Adriel, lord of Azura. The youngest of all was their sister, Geneva, who was the lady of Rentis.
The deadliest of all three.
I had ordered for a banquet to be arranged, just the four of us. I could not have the other immortals around the three of them, not with the suspicions and sheer frigidity that the Halflings had towards them all. They were only too ready to agree - no one wanted to dine with three deadly beings who could slice and shatter their mind in an instant.
I had often had fights with Adriel when I had risen to power in the states. His elder brother was quieter, but dangerous all the same. It had been their sister who had given me the most trouble, but she had turned into my staunchest ally at the end of those twenty years.
Relations between us were strained, but not like the bonds of fear that the other gods shared towards them. The Halflings respected me enough to at least give me a chance to explain rather than invading my head - or so I hoped.
I had woken up in the early hours before the dawn, watching the moon sink and the sun rise. Yet there was dread coiling in my stomach, nothing but empty, hollow dread. Perhaps it was the knowledge that our encounter could very well end with them leaving my mind in pieces, or worse - going back home without assuring us their help.
Because I could not have my mind broken into - not again, not after Leora.
I had finished the entire bottle of scotch minutes after I had gotten out of bed - my hands were still shaking when Tristan had woken to find me wracking the cabinets for more alcohol. He had paled at once before firmly picking the bottles out of my hands, preventing me from getting drunk any further. The morning had passed by in a haze as I sat in a tub of steaming hot water, the attendants busy fussing about.
Madame de Villiers had reworked my gown from the coronation - replacing the exquisite purple silk with panels of sheer black. The structured shoulders and high collar were meant to impose, to give off impact and elegance. Black diamonds and swatches of pure, crushed velvet shimmered and rolled in the lights when I moved. My eyes matched the ruthless splendour of the dress, lit like coals of blazing fire. I had not hesitated to paint my lips the shade of blood.
My reflection felt like death.
Then I placed my crown on my head, proud and bold and vengeful. It glittered and shone brilliantly, but never had I felt it weigh down so heavily on my back.
I did not give off an illusion of power. I was power.
Tristan wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing deep kisses down the slopes of my neck, making a low moan slip out of my painted lips.
"Tonight, I'm taking you to bed... wearing only that crown," he nipped my ear softly with growl, making me squeal. His voice was raw and demanding - no politeness, only pure command.
"Hmm. Any more orders for me, my King?" I murmured, feeling my cheeks heat as I flung my arms around my husband. He let out a groan of approval, sliding his hands to cup me from behind. I pressed closer into him, drinking in his very scent.
"Stay alive," he growled.
"I'll try my best," I hummed in his ear. He gave me a wicked grin and hooked my arm in his as we began to make our way downstairs.
It was when we reached the last step that I felt my nervousness begin to ripple again from where I had tucked it away - fear slowly leaking out from my thoughts.
Tristan cupped my face, looking right into my forlorn eyes.
"You are my lioness. You are my Queen. You are the Regnant of Endollon. You are a survivor. You have faced worse odds... and survived. You will survive this," he breathed.
I could only nod.
"You will not fear. They cannot break you."
I was breathing faster now, and I felt my heartbeat resume its slow, steady pace as he softly kissed me. My nerves were still frayed, but I felt his warm blanket of reassurance settle over me, his utter faith in me making me melt.
And when I let go of him to open the door of the mansion, he held my hand for a moment longer. Don't go, his gesture seemed to speak.
"What did you do all those months when I would leave to go to Dracnesse for work?" I breathed.
"Wait for you to come back," Tristan whispered, his voice close to tears.
• • • • •
CALCHESTER CITADEL, STEFFITH.
ERIC
The throne room was filled to the brim with all our allies. All dressed in their finest leathers and silks, they stood, waiting in the empty silence. Even Drusilla's eyes were wider than plates, suspiciously darting about the hall. Justaline shifted closer to Emerick. I gave Amphitrite a reassuring smile as I saw her shudder beside Emeline and Theodore.
Tristan stood beside me on the dais, stone faced at my side - eyes cold as they flicked to the doors. He had slipped in just a few minutes ago, but Edwina had not. Helios had wanted us to exert an air of dominance - which was why she planned to enter the room after making our guests wait for a few minutes.
The doors opened at last.
And there they stood.
The Halflings were lethal siblings that could have any of us writhing on the floor, our minds twisted and wracked by them. They stood there in billowing robes of light pastels, the colour as deceiving as the innocent smiles on their faces. Their skin was whiter than snow, but their eyes were the one which always gave me the nightmares...
...eyes the colour of fresh blood.
Randall stood in the middle, flanked by his brother and sister on either side. It was Geneva whose full lips curled into a feline smile, showing off teeth sharper than knives. I could practically sense her probing the shields of the room before moving an inch further into the room.
They did not move from the doorway for another whole minute. When they moved, it was like a wave of water gliding over the floor. Their eyes were cold, emotionless as the lethal gaze finally flickered to Tristan and I, to where we stood on the dais, our heads up with the authority and power we held.
"I see all that trouble and strife of killing my people finally paid off."
It was Randall who spoke, his question addressed to us with a bitter, mocking voice. No greeting, no sign of respect - and no one had the guts to point it out to them. Or it just wasn't our place. It was their land that had given us grounds to rise to power. It had been their people who had been harassed. Their families that had died under us.
Tristan's only answer was the ever so slight tilt of his chin.
Another moment passed. Then a flourish of trumpets rang outside the doors, which slowly opened.
Edwina looked positively terrifying.
Her face remained emotionless and cruel, looking at the people as if they were beneath her. She had her sceptre in one hand, the gold imposing and powerful. I could see the pain in Tristan's eyes, and I felt it myself as well - felt how hard it was for her to stand tall even when she was broken into more pieces than she could count.
And once again, I admired this woman who wore her pain like the grandest of diamonds around her neck.
Her head was high, eyes flicking over us coldly as her red lips twitched.
And then, as one, the entire hall knelt.
I could see how furious all of them were even as they dropped to their knees - people like Deimos, Emerick, Apollo, Drusilla... I could see the vein that throbbed in their temple, the way their jaws locked.
It was only Tristan and I who remained standing, us and the three Halflings in the middle of the hall. Edwina walked right past everyone, her skirts swishing around her ankles as she strode across the carpet, sceptre shining as wickedly as the crown on her head. Her face remained carefully impassive as she reached the dais, her heels clicking on the floor.
"Up," she barked quietly.
They all rose. Her eyes finally flitted to the Halflings, and Randall gave her a soft, poisonous smile that made my blood run cold. Edwina only nodded her head to them, not uttering another word. Then she turned to dining hall as the three followed her.
And then, we all settled for the long wait till she returned.
• • • • •
EDWINA
I could barely keep my head as I led the way to the dining hall, my heart throbbing wildly in my chest. I could not hear their footsteps behind me. They were unusually quiet.
And when the doors closed behind us, I finally turned and faced them.
"Please. Sit."
Randall's eyes were still suspicious as he looked at me, then to the lavish banquet table.
"Ladies first."
I exhaled sharply, careful to not let the fear seep out of me - they could smell it.
"I'm afraid I must insist," I pressed quietly, looking him right in the eye. To let him see, to let him know that I was not going to cheat or murder him. Geneva raised an eyebrow, flicking her pale gold hair behind her shoulder. Hair that was a lighter gold than even Eric's or Miriel's.
"Is this some kind of ploy, Edwina?" she inquired, her voice sharper than a knife. Her lip curled slightly as she used my name, forgoing the title that went with it.
"We all know that if I wanted you dead, I would have done it already."
Adriel's red eyes twinkled with mirth, before he threw up his hands and pulled out a chair for himself, settling himself into it.
"Looks like your heart has turned to ice, Edwina," he muttered, popping a grape into his mouth.
"I have no heart," I said softly, motioning to the others to sit, and then seating myself at last. "My enemies have devoured it."
The attendants began bringing out the food, plates and plates heaped with steaming platters of food. The table fell silent except for the clink of glass and the swish of wine as it was poured into gold rimmed goblets.
"Leave us," I said.
The three of them had made no move to touch the food. Their eyes were only focused on me. Suspicious and cold, their gaze bored into mine with a steely glint.
"I'm not foolish enough to poison you."
It was Geneva who picked up the glass at last, a smirk on her curled lips as she raised it to me and then took a sip.
"It seems that your injuries have left you insecure, Edwina," she purred, her lips stained from the sangria. Her gaze hovered over my neck, as if she could see the bruises from the countless times I had been strangled. I sucked in a breath as her eyes travelled further downwards, the sensation similar to being doused in ice cold water.
"How many times did that bastard stab you?" Adriel asked quietly, his eyes still settled on me. His voice strained to conceal the anger shimmering in it.
"I passed out at some point," I breathed. "Lost too much blood."
Randall leaned back in his chair, his face drawn. The coldness had thawed a bit as he tilted his head, observing me.
"I'm surprised Tristan has even left them alive," he muttered.
"He had to let go of his vengeance. It was the only way Deimos would let him have his men. We have all made our compromises," I replied, my voice careful as I chewed on a piece of cottage cheese blasted in herbs and butter. "This is war. The Titans will not hesitate before killing each of our kind... and yours."
"We do not wish to be involved in this fight, Edwina," Adriel declared. "Our people have suffered enough for the past three hundred years. The only thing we want is a peaceful life."
"You don't get it," I said. "If we do not join, there won't be a peaceful life. For any of us."
"The Titans have no grudge with us," Geneva interrupted. "Why would they want to kill us?"
"Zadicus is not a man who thinks like that. All he sees... Endollon is his for the taking. Anyone and everyone who lives in this realm, they are his to kill. All the lands, the cities, the people, they are his to plunder."
"Forgive me," Randall said, shaking his head. "But I find that hard to believe. We will not join this fight. I do not want any more bloodshed."
"Drusilla and Alaric tortured me!" I hissed. "Emerick nearly killed me. Apollo almost raped me. And yet today we have aligned. What greater proof do you want? Instead of killing them - today we stand on one side because of this. Because the threat is real."
"I would expect no less of you," Randall said at once. "But this is my decision as a lord. Do not force me, Edwina. We have had enough death in our lives to last us five births."
"I will not see my people bleeding on the battlefields again," Geneva snapped. "That is my decision. And my decision is final."
"Compromise. It's called compromise, Randall. Meet me halfway. I promise to give your people sanctuary along with ours. No harm shall befall them. We need each other's help - now more than ever."
"How... how do you live with it?" Geneva asked softly. "Knowing that these people beat you, tortured you - how does Tristan live with it? After all that he's done?"
"What - what do you mean?" my words cracked. "By all that he's done?"
"He killed Elodie, didn't he?"
My heart stopped beating.
"It would be a shame if Endollon found out that their beloved High King murdered his sister."
I stopped breathing.
"It was a mistake-"
"-but it was his hand that did it," Randall cut in. "It was him that drove the blade into her heart, yes?"
"She begged him to kill her," I croaked. "How could he have known? Known that she was fated to live? That Ambrosine would curse him?"
He said nothing, but crossed his arms, face frigid.
"Randall, please," I said softly. I hated begging, hated pleading after what life had put me through - but there was no other choice. We needed them. Desperately.
"I'm sorry, but we cannot help."
"All those years," I whispered. "All those years we spent in the states - those were good years. If you cared for me even once during all those years - I beg you. Please. We need your help."
Adriel looked quietly at his elder brother, his face impassive. Geneva chewed her lip, pouring herself another glass of wine. I was so unnerved that I could almost hear my foot shaking under the table.
"I say it again, Randall. I called you here because I thought I could rely on you. After all those years I gave your land peace and happiness, all those years you gave me your support - is this what we have come to? Do those twenty years mean nothing to you? I thought we had something. Some sort of affection. But that's all gone now, isn't it?"
"It's not gone," Geneva stood up, sighing as her sharp nostrils flared. She placed a slender, white hand on my shoulder, her red eyes darkening as she studied her siblings. "I do care for you. And when I received the news that you almost died... I was so worried. I care for you, Edwina - but I care more for my people."
"I never beg, Geneva. But this is going to end badly. We need each other."
"I'm sorry," Randall shook his head. "But we cannot help. Not this time."
"Is it then?" I growled, seizing my sceptre, the crown heavy on my head.
"Careful now, Edwina," Adriel let out a low hiss, "we do not wish to hurt you."
"This is the last time, Randall," I snarled. "Either you help us, or-"
"-or what?" he asked smoothly. "You're going to force us, is it?" his lips turned up in a thin line, face impassive and carved out of stone. "Let me remind you, Edwina. We know the truth."
"And?"
"So," he leaned closer, his voice looming with danger. "You will let us leave. Peacefully. But if you insist on forcing us..."
"Are you threatening me, lord Randall?"
"It's called compromise, Edwina," he snapped. "Either you let us return to the states and we stay quiet... or you make us stay and the truth comes out. Meet me halfway."
I only stared at him for a moment, speechless and shocked out my wits. I could not believe what he had just said. I could not believe the bitter irony of my position.
Let them go and watch my people suffer... or make them stay and watch Tristan suffer.
"I do not like it any more than you," Adriel breathed gently. "We do not wish to hurt you. We do not want to do this, but if you insist on making a scene, you will leave us with no choice but to let out the truth."
My head throbbed. It hurt and spun. The scotch I had downed this morning threatened to make a reappearance. We needed their forces so very badly. But I could not put Tristan in danger. No matter what it cost me. And after all my life had thrown at me, I could barely even speak at this cruel surprise it threw my way.
"Go, then," I whispered, my voice breaking.
Randall stood up at once, and his brother behind him. Geneva looked at both of them, a warning shining in her eyes.
"I thought you were better than this. Better than fucking blackmail."
"My people are worth more than my life, Edwina. I have to protect them, even if I need to resort to blackmail. I know you would have done the same."
Scornful and defeated and miserable, I followed them as they walked to the gilded doors. I wondered how I was going to explain this to our allies. How was I going to explain this to Tristan.
"I'm sorry."
"Keep your fucking apologies to yourself. Get out," I pressed my lips in a thin line, my voice almost non existent.
The doors opened.
The white faces of each of them greeted me as I stepped out of the room, trying to keep myself from falling apart into pieces. I motioned for the attendant to open the gates of the Citadel, inhaling a deep sigh.
"Thank you for giving me your time," I said coldly to the three Halflings. The hall watched silently as they strode out of the doors without so much as a goodbye, leaving us all in silence stiller than death.
Tristan had been leaning right against the doors, and he walked up to me quietly. His blue eyes saw the miserable expression on my face, and he wordlessly put an arm around my waist, holding me close to him. I slumped against his chest with a sigh of relief - he was my home, he was the very person I had been fighting for all this time.
"The Halflings have decided to refuse this alliance," my exhausted voice rang out clear in great hall.
"What do you mean?" Alaric hotly demanded, aghast. "Why?"
"They asked for a spot among the Triarchy. My spot. I refused," the lie came easily to me, smoother than silk. I did not mind taking the blame, but they could never know about what Tristan had done, about what had actually happened behind those closed doors.
"You mean to say you let them walk away because your pride was more important than our survival?" Emerick blackly rounded on me, voice bristling with temper.
"Yes," I lied.
"So you will sit and watch thousands die just because you were too proud to bend the knee?" Deimos let out a snarl, jaw tightening. "Uranus help us - what kind of person are you?"
"Do not think my crown can be taken that easily from me, Deimos," I shot back, vexed. Spinning lie after lie. "I worked hard for it. I will not give it up to some uncivilized half breeds."
"We should have asked someone else to negotiate with them," Drusilla hissed. "You can't even control your own temper, and you expect to control us?"
"Quiet," I growled. "The fucking lot of you are such cowards that you could hardly look them in the eye!"
"You had one job," Apollo bitterly tutted, clicking his tongue.
"Enough," Tristan lashed out, his hand resting on his sword. His grip on me tightened as he quietly noted how drained I was. "She is tired. We can shout at each other later."
"Come," Amphitrite beamed brightly, hooking an arm in mine as Emerick glared at me. "Let's draw up a bath for you.
"I can do it myself," I roughly broke free of her grasp, the hostility creeping back again. "Leave me alone."
Her eyes welled up in tears as I left her behind me and began my slow, miserable walk out of the hall. The gods were even angrier than before now, like wild beasts who had not been fed for days. I sighed and dragged my fingers through my hair, ready to tear the crown off my head.
Someone joined me.
"You do mess things beautifully," Drusilla murmured, twirling a curl of raven black hair around her long white finger. "You deserve it... after all, no one should hold all the power."
I only shot her a sour look, curling my hands into tight fists.
"You'll get what's coming to you," I swore bitterly. "Sooner or later, everyone finds themselves at the end of the road."
"That doesn't really apply to me," she tipped back her head and laughed. "Although... you're clever. I have to give you that. But you'll never be my Queen," she hissed, pulling out a dagger aimed straight for my chest.
I reached out for a knife at the same time, ready to kill.
She grabbed my wrist to back me towards the wall, struggling to break free of my grasp as we both grappled for control. A hand suddenly pulled us both off each other, pushing me right off and jumping on Drusilla, a pointed blade in hand.
"You're already at the end of the road. Are you ready to face the consequences... dear mother?" Mirel breathed harshly, before plunging the dagger right into Drusilla's heart.
• • • • •
*cough cough*
Tell me this... how many of you ever imagined who Miriel Everly was? And how many of you ever thought that Drusilla - of all the women to choose - was a mother?
We are in deep deep trouble with whatever the Halflings did as well, and blackmail? That's a new low. And our Queen Regnant (poor girl :( ) had to give in to their demands because the truth cannot get out. Because if people find out - it's going to get worse. Next time, stay tuned to find out what's up with Miriel and who she is!!