Before another belch of vomit could try to escape, she saw Korden a few feet away, holding a comrade’s blade and admiring the etching. She steadied herself as much as her panic would allow and walked over to him.
“Hi,” she said to Korden; then, with forced heartiness, “Oh, what a gorgeous blade!”
She looked back to Korden.
“I’d like to speak with you a moment.”
“Of course,” Korden obliged. He turned to his companion and returned his sword. “Beautiful craftsmanship! You’ll have to let me know what other kind of work he does.”
Korden’s friend nodded and slapped him on the back as he started off with the queen.
“I just needed to ask you something,” Jularra clarified, making every effort to keep up her stoic charade. She pointed at a room outside the peristyle. “Over here.”
The two of them made their way swiftly through the courtyard, only interrupted a few times with salutes and cheers. Jularra’s heart skipped a beat as they reached the outer courtyard perimeter—previously a melting, invisible wall—but they passed by the columns without trouble. About twenty paces later, they entered an open vestibule and faced out on to the party. The noise and music, while still loud, was now far easier to hear over. And much to the reassurance of Jularra’s emotions, a good portion of the light from the courtyard didn’t make it into the vestibule. Her eyes were free to water without fear of showing weakness—though if she were to show it, she would only ever allow Korden to see it.
“How much have you had to drink?” she asked.
He laughed and wrinkled his nose. “What?”
“How much?”
He brought his hands up in sober confusion, one pointing at the drink held in the other. “This is just my second. I’m quite behind, I’m afraid.”
“No, it’s just... I need to tell you something,” she said.
Korden let his hands drop. He tilted his head towards the light to try and catch her eyes.
Jularra swallowed and looked around, almost in disbelief that she had been released from the Voidwarden’s temporary grasp.
“It was here," she said hoarsely. "It was right here. The Voidwarden.”
Jularra’s voice cracked towards the end. Korden’s eyes grew wide as hers glistened with a curtain of fresh tears.
“I can’t believe it!" Korden glanced around in the darkness. He rubbed his chin, then his cheeks, and then let his arms drop. Why?” he asked. “Why now? Why here?”
Before Jularra could respond, Korden reached out for her. He cupped her face in his palm and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
“Forget it. It’s just me now,” he whispered, struggling to hold her gaze. “It’s just me here with you. Are you all right?”
Jularra let her focus fall from his face. Her vision blurred as she stirred her strength and came up with a spoonful. She looked back to him. Her eyes hadn’t let any tears fall, and they were drying.
“Yes,” she said in a whisper. She nodded a few times, if just to help convince herself. “Yes, I’m fine. I just can’t handle seeing that thing anymore.”
The realization slowly seeped in that the Voidwarden had indeed left the party. Jularra took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let her head roll once in a refreshing stretch. Feeling suddenly exhausted, Jularra stepped backwards and collapsed on to the only stone bench in the vestibule. She ran a hand through her hair.
Korden didn’t immediately follow. “What happened?” he wondered. “Did it say anything? Did it do anything to you?”
“It… altered my vision,” she said. Her hand waved in front of her face. “I saw some of the most revolting sights I’d ever seen. It was trying to scare me. It worked.”
Korden sat down next to her.
“It knew I wasn’t pregnant yet. It threatened me over how much time is left.”
She vaulted up from the bench and began pacing in a rage.
“Fuck, Korden! I’m running out of time, and I don’t want to fucking do it! I don’t want to die early, or enslave any child of mine to a future of the shit that comes with being an Acorilinian queen! Damn it!”
With each curse, Jularra slung her arms in various directions. Korden’s gaze fell to the ground as his eyes danced frantically about.
“We need a plan,” he blurted.
Jularra collapsed inside. The gate holding back her denial crumbled. Her mind started to resign to the truth, though her will scratched and resisted. She turned towards the courtyard but remained in the vestibule’s shadow, watching from a distance as her people sang, laughed, drank, and ate.
They’re safe. They have food, and a future. I can’t jeopardize that now.
Tears fell from her face, and she made no effort to prevent them as the Voidwarden's words climbed to the top of her mind.
All I need is seed.
Jularra slowly turned back to Korden. His face was worn from a despair she hadn’t seen in him before.
She stepped delicately over to him.
He sat silently, his face shifting from despair to a look Jularra knew well. It was a familiar expression of concern and love that she had seen thousands of times—going back to when she first emerged from the mountain as queen. She needed him now, just as she needed him then. But this was different.
She straddled his legs and slowly lowered herself onto his lap. Korden reached up and wiped her tears away with his thumb. She renounced her conscience and leaned in for a kiss.
Ten
The love that Korden and Jularra made left complex embers in their eyes which smoldered for weeks after the night of the party in Brinnock. Though most of the heat surged up from Korden’s heart, their subsequent conversations and interactions—while initially awkward—stoked the fresh flame of both their lust.
But distractions and obligations postponed any follow-up encounters. Jularra wrestled with her newly-evolved feelings for Korden, which were mixed up in the guilt she felt for using him the way she did. Any chance for them to discuss what transpired was constantly interrupted, and each
