Alijah could feel the dragon pressing images upon him, each more grotesque than the last. The king shut his eyes, searching for his own feelings on the matter.
You will not execute them? Malliath exclaimed.
The king sharpened his focus, wondering what gap he had left for the dragon to see into his mind. They are assets we should not discard. With Adilandra dead, my parents will take command of the elves and all of Ayda with them.
You would allow them to rule the east? There can only be one throne!
And there will be! Alijah pushed back. But elves are immortal - they do not forget easily. Nor can we be everywhere at once. It will aid us to have them kept under better control while we see to Illian and Ayda. And without magic, they will pose no real threat.
And what of the threat of your parents? Magic or not, they have a history we would be fools to ignore. They are more likely to lead a new rebellion against us than maintain peace in Ayda.
If they step out of line I will—
They have already chosen their side, Malliath argued, cutting Alijah short. They will be executed with the rest of The Rebellion. We do not need them to curb the elves.
Alijah wanted to reinforce his opinion but he knew the dragon was right - they had abandoned him, disowned him, and replaced him. How could they come back from that? And how could Alijah find the heart for them when his love was for the entire realm?
It will be hard, Malliath admitted, his tone soothing now. But we will do it together. And we will get through it together.
The king sighed, and with it his worries were taken by the wind, leaving him with one thought.
They will all die.
Seated at the head of the table, his chair like any other, Vighon watched friends and allies materialise around him. Thanks to the diviner, in the centre of the table, and the Keeper, standing off to the side, Doran, Galanör, Faylen, and Sir Ruban Dardaris were given form in the empty chairs.
As engrossing as it was to watch their ethereal bodies take shape, Vighon took the moment to glance at Reyna and Nathaniel, seated to his right. Both appeared to be in shock, though it was more likely, in Reyna’s case, that she was numb. Nathaniel’s expression had yet to change since he had been informed of his new station as king of the elves.
Vighon felt for them both, wishing more than anything that he could take it all away for them. He knew the immense pressure of a crown being placed on one’s head as well as the suffering that accompanied the death of a mother. But he also knew there were no words that would make a difference.
He had urged them to return to their chambers and take some time, but both had rebuffed the suggestion, stating that the meeting was too important.
Turning to Kassian, seated on his left, the king noticed the Keeper’s attention was similarly on the Galfreys. Vighon had found a brief moment, before everyone took their seats, to inform him of Adilandra’s demise and the consequences for Reyna and Nathaniel. Of course, Kassian’s feelings on the pair becoming king and queen were impossible to read, even if it was clearly on his mind.
And now, with the council at last assembled, Vighon was drawn immediately to Ruban, who was seated at the other end of the table. The northman hadn’t seen the knight since the battle on The Carpel Slopes - since he had walked away.
Of all those seated around the able, Vighon could quite confidently say that Sir Ruban Dardaris, the captain of his King’s Guard and once squire, was his most loyal ally and friend. And still the king had walked away from him, leaving the knight to continue the good fight in his stead.
The men held each other’s gaze for the moment. Vighon was expecting some venom from Ruban, who was well within his rights to speak so. In fact, he was hoping the captain would have something to say on the matter; it was the least he deserved.
“Is it true?” Doran broadcast from across the table. “Ye’ve taken Namdhor?” he added with a hearty laugh.
Vighon tore his eyes from Ruban to address the dwarf. “We sit in the throne room as we speak, Doran.”
The son of Dorain turned his head to better see the northman. “Aye, I knew it would be good to see ye, an’ it is, lad! ’ave ye got yer head sorted?” he asked more seriously. “Do ye know who ye are?”
Vighon looked back at Ruban before answering. “I am the king of Illian,” he said evenly.
The captain bowed his head. “On that we agree, your Grace. Namdhor is where you belong.”
“Before we begin,” Vighon continued, “I would give you all my thanks and my apologies. I walked away and you kept fighting, every one of you. I thought I was doing the right thing for The Rebellion, but I see now that walking away was never going to help. We’re in a fight where every sword counts and every ally makes us stronger. Our enemy would see us divided and conquered. My heart breaks with apology knowing that I aided in that endeavour.
“I can never thank you all enough for not only welcoming me back, but searching me out. I deserved neither. I again pledge myself to the crown and the realm, serving both until my last breath. I have nothing else to give.”
“And I would serve no other king,” Sir Ruban announced sincerely. “You earned that crown once before. I have no doubt you will do it again. I am glad you know who you are now. But when we next meet, your Grace, I will put you on your back.”
Vighon stifled his laugh. “That seems fair.”
“Hugs and kisses for everyone!” Kassian interjected. “Can
