The Mage Wars

The Road to Vespera

8 Zenith of the year 13006

The morning I told Tressa we were to depart for Vespera, my court and I had a chat. A long chat about what to do with her: there were several options I immediately put to rest, like sending her to Carthana, a penal colony off the coast of North Vanora.

Neirin mentioned we could send her to the dragons. Guinevere was on board for that, but I wasn't. It's not exactly a humane option. And I promised she'd get a trail. And a trial she will have.

After listening to one bad idea to the next, I decided to take her with us to Caelora. Many voices went silent at my proclamation. I told them several court members had to leave for the Kingship assessment anyway.

This unleashed a torrent of reasons why bringing Tressa with me is an inadequate idea. I let their surge go on for a singular minute before I stopped them. I told them not to be insensitive. Tressa is family. She will be treated with the grace a former queen is allowed.

Their reactions are nothing short of shock. They know Tressa tried to have me killed. They also know I value family above all else. They also know I will play by the rules laid down by the spirits over ten thousand years ago.

After the shock and outrage died down, I was able to tell them who would accompany me to Caelora. It was no surprise to anyone that Galen was to accompany me. The same could be said with Lord Zarrak and Lady Josslyn. Lord Zarrak has the kingship assessment.

Holly was surprised when I announced that Kaelen would be coming and not her. They've been thick as thieves since they joined my court. Her place as my high healer takes precedence over travelling to Vespera with me. Besides, my regent will need her expertise.

Then I turned to Neirin and watched his expression turn to shock as I told him he'd be regent until I returned. He immediately asks when I will return.

I hold his eye contact as I tell him two months will pass before he sees me return to the throne. "I will send word when we leave Caelora,"

Neirin nods curtly. He leans back in his chair with his arms crossed. He has a right to be angry. He told me six days ago he wasn't ready for the responsibility of taking the throne. I tell him to think of this as a test run.

That doesn't ease his fears or anger.

Guinevere places a hand over his knee. A comfort, I'm sure. But it'll be anything but comforting from her. If this were yesterday or an hour ago, it would have worked, but not now that Neirin is named Regent.

Sitting three seats down from me is Zorian. Quiet as a mouse. I turn to my cousin and ask if he has anything to add.

Zorian remains focused on the Vanorian crest at the center of the round table. "No. No, I do not,"

I nod to my cousin. "I will tell Tressa we leave in the morning. I will see you all at dinner. This meeting is adjourned."

At my words, Neirin gets up and storms out. Guinevere sighs audibly. She can try to deal with his anger, but it may not do her or him any favours. Guinevere nods to me and follows my cousin's footsteps.

Lord Zarrak and Josslyn nod to me on their way out. They are quickly followed by Sir Haedyn, Sir Jude, Ella and Altair. Holly, Kaelen, and Galen stick around for a few seconds, talking about a treat for the orphans in the castle.

It's not until they are all out that Zorian closes the door to the drawing room. My cousin walks over to the fireplace and leans an arm on the mantle. He gazes into the roaring flames.

"Zorian. What's on your mind?"

No response.

"Is this about Tressa?"