Luminous

115 - The End Begins (2/3)

The return journey to the Dragon's Crossing wasted as much time as the departure. Mum and Dad retired straight to their room for first sleep, but the spoiled little Lord or Lady Hadrian or two squatting in Meya's belly now decided they did want dinner, after all. And, much like their father, their demands were particular in detail.

Thus, Meya joined the congregation before the fireplace in the Hadrians' chambers, trying her best to pay attention over the masterpiece on her plate as Coris relayed to the Graye sisters his puzzling encounter with their father.

"And you're sure your letter reached him?" Agnes pressed her sister for the third time.

"What else could have prompted the King to summon us?" Coris pitched in from across the ring. Persephia had opened her mouth to again stand her ground, when the door opened and in came Zier and Arinel.

"Wha—the feast's over?" Meya sat up, tossing her headless fried anchovy back to the mess on the plate.

"The Council's begun?" Coris echoed her. Zier shook his head as he led Arinel into the room.

"Father sent us back." He froze halfway to the ring of chairs, his nose twitching. His eyes found the culprit in Meya's hands, then widened in terror.

"Is that...battered anchovy and tomatoes? With custard and honey?"

Coris rolled his eyes as he waved his mother's feathery fan in Meya's direction.

"One is a genuine demand from Little Lexi. The rest are my wife's sinful favorites disguised as a mother's duty. Care to bet?"

"Remember your mother's cravings, Coris," said Arinel coolly.

"I craved pickled frog garnished with rose jelly—set to Corien's Harp. Be grateful I left out the frog before the soothsayer," recited Coris under his breath. Sensing Meya's death glare as she chomped the head off another anchovy, Coris turned to his brother with every ounce of seriousness he could muster.

"Is everything all right?"

Zier shared a look with his lady, then heaved a sigh.

"Serella's marrying Prince Halcyon," he met his brother's gaze with haunted blue eyes, his voice hoarse. "Aunt Kyrel wants Father's seat on the Council. They'll vote on it."

A pause of silence followed as the room's occupants digested the news. Again, Coris was first to the answer. He fell against his chair with a flump, staring eyes unseeing.

"So that's what," he breathed.

Meya frowned at her husband, then cast her eyes around the ring. Hers was the only relieved face. Arinel watched Coris as she caressed Zier's arm, as if to gauge how dire it was. Agnes glanced between the Hadrian brothers, a trembling hand rising slowly to her lips. Persephia gawked at Zier. What had she missed here?

"That's—that's great, innit?" She prodded Coris. He'd bent forth, elbows on his knees and fingers weaved under his nose, lost in feverish calculations, so she looked to the bearer of bad news instead. "Your auntie's on the Council and your cousin's the future queen."

"It's a trade, Meya," said Agnes, her single eye boring into Meya's, "The King offered me the title of future queen if Father delivers him The Axel. What do you think it means, now that he's given it to Serella?"

Zier thawed out just enough to pull up a chair for Arinel, then sank limply into his own.

"Aunt Kyrel is the one behind the summons. Seems your father didn't tattle, after all." He tossed the Greeneye Graye a sideeye.

"But I was so sure—" Persephia shook her head, still staring at the patch of nothing Zier used to occupy.

"He's likely saving it for a better use, a better time," suggested Coris darkly.