Chapter 4 - Kaladin POV

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My heart pounds in my chest, a rhythmic reminder of the bond we share—a persistent tugging sensation that both grounds and unsettles me. She should have arrived by now. I force myself to maintain an expression of aloofness, striving for an air of nonchalance. Yet inside, I'm nearly giddy with anticipation at the prospect of seeing Arlette again. My father's disapproving glances only serve to heighten my anxiety, each one a silent reprimand for my visible impatience. My gaze repeatedly drifts to my left, drawn to the empty seats at Margrot's table.

My fingers tap my thigh impatiently, each rhythmic beat synchronizing with the pulsing of the bond between us. There's a peculiar thrill in the sensation—Arlette's emotions seep through, a mix of excitement and anticipation that mirrors my own. I can't help but hope, with every beat of my heart, that her eagerness to see me matches my own fervent desire to be in her presence once more.

A subtle movement at Emperor Eryx's seat draws my attention, and I narrow my eyes, straining to decipher the scene unfolding. A man I recognize from Arlette's court leans in, whispering urgently to the Emperor.

The low murmuring in the room comes to a halt as Emperor Eryx rises to address the assembly. "Queen Margrot sends her regards. Regrettably, she is too ill to travel this evening. Lord Gregory, head of her Queen's guard, will act as her proxy," he announces, his voice carrying a tone of formal disappointment. As he concludes, Eryx returns to his seat at the high table.

My brow furrows with a blend of frustration and concern. Too sick to travel? The bond in my chest remains steady, offering a small measure of reassurance that she is still alive. It tugs with a familiar pull, indicating that she is farther south than usual. This development is deeply unsettling.

The room hums with the murmur of conversations, but my thoughts are a maelstrom of confusion and anxiety. I focus intently on the bond, trying to glean any further details. Her presence feels distant but unwavering. I can sense through the bond that she's in good spirits, even excited.

I cast a furtive glance at Lord Gregory. His face remains a mask of calm authority.

"The war with Keld is progressing in our favor," Emperor Eryx declares, his tone a mix of relief and triumph. "They haven't been able to take any more of our land, and we've managed to keep casualties to a minimum. I would like to personally thank Margrot for lending their military support during this critical time. Lord Gregory, please extend my deepest gratitude to Queen Arlette. Since her coronation, Margrot's military strength has nearly tripled, and those increased numbers have proven invaluable to the Realm."

The Emperor's praise for Arlette is unmistakable, and I find myself momentarily stunned. While I was aware of Margrot's formidable military from my education on the responsibilities of kingship, I had never been informed that it was Arlette specifically who played a pivotal role in Margrot's rise to military excellence.

I lean in and whisper into my father's ear, "Arlette is responsible for their military?"

He scoffs, a hint of irritation in his voice as he responds, "Merely circumstantial." Yet, the way he shifts uneasily in his seat betrays his true feelings. Despite his dismissive words, it's clear he's been aware of Arlette's exceptional role in enhancing Margrot's military prowess, and the revelation unsettles him deeply. My father's pride, always unwavering in his belief that a woman cannot outperform a man, is clearly challenged by the Emperor's acknowledgment.

"I'd also like to extend my thanks to Tenby," the Emperor continues, his voice warm with appreciation. "I'm aware that the additional demands of feeding the armies have put a significant strain on your farms. The same gratitude is due to Lingwell for their seafood storage and Warthford for their livestock contributions."

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