I need to stop wasting time.
By the time I reach the palace, it is bustling with people. Guards bow as I pass. I greet them, and make my way to the place where the meeting will be held. The corridors hum with soft resonance. The crystals embedded in the walls shimmer faintly.
When I enter the council chamber, the air feels heavy. Most of the members are already there: Fira, Ra’Salore, Ulla, Svanna, Lothar, not to mention the half a dozen others added since our population expanded.
Teo, seated at his queen’s side, rises when he sees me. He looks older than he should at his age—the sleepless kind of tired that comes from balancing duty, early parenthood, and grief. His silver hair has been tied back in a simple braided knot, no crown today.
“Liana,” he says softly. “I thought you were going to be late.”
“I was awake early,” I reply. “But I had matters to attend to.”
Estela stands beside him, her human warmth and divine glowwashing over me. There’s gentleness in her eyes, but it’s weighted. Her smile doesn’t quite reach the corners of her mouth.
I know they both worry over Arlet and Vann. It is not easy to lose such close friends.
“When does our guest get here?” I ask.
“She is already here,” Estela answers quietly. “Mrath arrived before the first morning chime of the clock tower. She should appear soon, and then the meeting will begin.”
I study them both for a long moment. They stand close, but there’s distance in the way their hands rest on the table—side by side but not touching. The loss of Arlet and Vann hangs between them like mist.
“I take it she hasn’t brought good news,” I murmur.
Teo exhales slowly. “Still no word of Lord Vann. Arlet should be set to arrive in Shvathemar any day now, if she hasn’t already. But Vann…” he begins again. “I just keep thinking he is gone. That is the only way Arlet would be separate from him. And…if he’s dead, I can’t think of a way to grieve properly while the world keeps shifting under our feet.”
His voice cracks just enough. And my heart aches. Vann was his brother before he was his advisor.
Estela glances down, tracing a pattern into the veins that run through the stone table, but the doors open before I can say more. The crystals along the walls shift hue, pale blues deepening to green—the mark of a magical conduit responding to a stronger resonance. Interesting. I haven’t witnessed this in her before.
And just like that, Mrath steps inside, followed by a few of her elven guards. All of them are women, members of her Sisterhood who rebel against King Arion.
She doesn’t enter like a guest. She enters like someone claiming a right she was merely waiting to collect. Her silver-blond hair gleams under the light, loose around her shoulders. The crown of black thorns on her brow catches the shimmer and glitters faintly, dark as charcoal. Around her neck is a necklace of loose bones arranged to resemble a skull. Inside the small cage is a steady glow.
I immediately recognize the elven artifact called theCumhacht naCruinne,or “power of the universe.” It is believed to be the strongest object an elf can possess. A relic touched by a god.
I take a deep breath, tasting the power radiating off her, and the room stills.
“Welcome again, Mrath.Weare grateful for you to be here,” Estela says firmly.
Teo gestures for her to join us, but she’s already moving toward the seat opposite his. The faint scent of outside air follows her, the damp kind that precedes a storm.
She inclines her head. “Thank you. I will be brief. I loathe long meetings, especially when there is much to prepare for with this upcoming wedding.”
Teo’s expression tightens, though his voice remains calm. “Very well. Begin when you please.”
Mrath rests her hands on the table, the dark thorns of her crown catching the light. “I have come to prepare for our takeover of the Elven Kingdom. As you know, my emissary, Thorne, has betrayed us and defected to the king. He has compromised my careful rise to power, and I will not wait for Arion to take my head.”
Her tone is measured, but there is a pulse beneath it—something alive and ancient, the rhythm of wind through deep caverns. That is new. This must be related to the artifact she now wears around her neck.
Elves recognize their kings by right of power and blood. Mrath is a woman, which is a problem, but she is royal. And now she feels comfortable enough to so openly wear the artifact around her neck?
She is as good as a force of nature.
When we gave it to her, she told us she would need time to unlock the depth of its magic. It seems, many months later, she has done just that. With such an object, she is poised to turn the entire Elven Dominion on its head.
She could be more than a queen if she could unite all the elven factions. She could crown herself an empress.
For the first time, her countenance reflects that future.