Luminous

116 - The Second Fellowship (3/3) ❣️

Meya uncrossed her legs and stood, her face empty but for a slight frown Coris knew from long experience heralded the worst of arguments.

"So—you'll step down from the Council. And Hadrian. And when the king arrests you, you'll have Gillian bust you outta prison then run for Everglen. As commoners. Possibly traitors." She said, slow and flat, then raised an eyebrow, "and you only thought to ask your mother, your wife who's pregnant, on second thought?"

Coris faltered as he realized his misstep. He took her hands in his, his voice soft with sorrow,

"Meya, I'm sorry. We have no other choice—"

"Yes, you have!" snapped Meya as she shook herself free, her finger jabbing out the window, "Baron Graye! Your aunt! The king—"

"I thought we agreed the first two are out of the question—" Coris narrowed his eyes, his voice now cool and clipped.

"Did Gillian mention Alden would have Greeneyes slated for Everglen mine in Latakia instead?" Baron Hadrian interrupted. Meya whipped around. His blue eyes were weary as he shook his head.

"Alden has a good heart, but with Latakia in such a state, he doesn't have the capacity for generosity. He'll sacrifice the minority for the greater good. That's why we must first heal Latakia. Bring back the ore ships and stop the creeping drought. We'll prove our honor with our actions. No more rhetoric."

Meya's head spun at the successive blows. Even the king wouldn't willingly help her kind? But the Baron's alternative was also insanity. A ragtag band of men and dragons, fleeing a king's might to the eastern shores, crossing the sea to a distant island to build a contraption out of metal and blood, then hopefully finding and returning atop ships loaded with ore to clear their name? When dealing with the suspicious King Alden, the cunning Baron Graye or spiteful Lady Kyrel would be far easier?

"But just imagine what you're about to do, milord! Can we ever succeed? Can we ever return?"

"We?" Coris repeated. He frowned slightly, laughing hollowly at her look of confusion. "What can you possibly mean by we, Meya? You're pregnant."

Meya's heart sank at the sight of his silvery eyes. Time seemed to have momentarily stopped for her, trapping her alone in a void of suffocating silence. She glanced at the faces surrounding her. They all bore the same incredulous expression, as if she were the only one out of the inner joke.

She wasn't going with them? Coris was leaving her behind? Possibly for ever?

Meya shook her head as she staggered away, her fevered breaths quickening, echoing against her pounding eardrums.

"But—then—what am I supposed to do if I'm not going with you?" She argued hoarsely, clinging to a last shred of hope to overturn his verdict. Yet all her beloved had for her was a wry grin of frustration.

"Do?" Coris moaned. He pinned her arms and her eyes as he shook her, demanding obedience— "Go home to Crosset and deliver our babe is what you'll do! Leave the quest to me. If the king learns about our affair, he might try to hold you and your family hostage to force us back. You must stay hidden. Disavow us. Change your face if you must—Arinel, can you keep them safe?"

He whipped around to the sniffling Lady Crosset. Arinel jolted, straightened, then nodded vigorously.

"On Crosset's honor. To the limit of our might."

Another blow on Meya's battered heart. Even Arinel had agreed, rendering the sentence ever more final. She saw but didn't feel Coris's hand on her face. He caressed the curve of her cheek to her jaw. His longing eyes held her glowing green as his hand left to cradle her belly.