Tipping the Scale

Chapter 21: Invading the South (Part 1)

It was already dark out, but nonetheless, Valerian kept pacing through his chambers. Knowing full well that everyone was waiting for him in the ceremonial hall. Delaying the inevitable as he was desperately trying to find a way to avoid taking a blood oath.

With the rebels dissipated and Lidea being gone, perhaps even dead, he couldn't afford to be under the control of the church. But nothing he said, had been able to change his father's mind, and no matter how long he thought about it, he couldn't find a way to trick the Head of Church either.

I'm stuck.

The only alternative to becoming a puppet king was to openly rebel against taking the oath. However, then questions would arise as to why. After all, someone without magic, shouldn't have any reservations about taking one. People would learn of his deceit, and any support he had, would crumble.

Dammit!

Anxiety caused him to pull strands from his perfectly curated hairstyle, as he turned and paced the length of his chambers again. Pushing himself to walk faster as he scoured every corner of his brain for a solution.

His spiral out of control was disrupted by a short rap on the door. He stared at the entrance, wondering if his father had finally lost his patience and sent guards to retrieve him.

"Valerian, it's me."

A familiar feminine voice made him rush to open the door. Ushering in Alana, who looked at him with a mixture of shock and concern.

In contrast to his own disheveled appearance, his sister was dressed like she was the center of the celebration. Her dress made of the most precious Sihayan silk, which was colored in a glittering royal purple. Her light-colored eyes and eyebrows had been darkened with powder, making her steel-colored eyes pop, and her hair had been put up in a complicated braid.

Her image resembled the pinnacle of beauty standards at the Lynoën court. If it wasn't for the slight baby bump, that was visible underneath her dress.

He was glad to see that the outing of her scandal, hadn't taken away her pride.

It had been marvelous to see her handle the gossips with snide remarks, brilliant smiles, and perfect posture.

As she withstood any attempts at tearing her down. Valerian's admiration for her strength only grew.

"I came to fetch you, everyone's waiting..."

Her unsure words broke the spell he was under, and he glanced at the hardwood floor as he sighed deeply.

"I'm aware."

Silence hung heavily between them until Alana took his hand in hers, soothingly rubbing her thumb over the back of it.

"They can't force you to take that oath."

She sounded so self-assured but Valerian couldn't see it. Either he followed his father's decree and lost his freedom, or he refused and would probably lose his life.

"I have no choice."

Alana pushed his chin with the tip of her finger. Those steel-colored eyes staring directly at his, hard and unrelenting.

"There always is. Come south with me. Leave this hell behind, let them slaughter each other with no end if they wish to. You don't need to be a hero."

Her last words almost sounded like a plea and he wondered if it was him, she was speaking to. Or if it was her father, or even her sister, whom she wanted to hear those words.

For a moment, he let himself imagine it. Going south, living in warmth as a commoner. Away from the intrigues of court, and the heavy weight of his duty as Prince. However, he knew that the guilt from running away would never let him go.