Figurehead

eleven

It is easier to look him in the eye and talk here, although the darkness is deeper and the room smaller. Strange how a simple shift in location changes things so much. But then, the sleeping chamber, the bedroom, it is not generally considered a place for conversation. I stop the next thought and force myself to refocus, fixing my eyes on the two fireflies lighting up the room.

Apart from them, and us, the room is empty. It has been empty for many Dre now, although I think he once said it was a storeroom, which accounts for the limited space. But it is comfortable here. Easier to breathe, despite the smell of must, and the dust that coats the floor.

We sit in the dust, cross-legged, facing one another. At least, he faces me while I watch the flickers of flame. I don't think about our proximity. Not at all.

When I finally drag my gaze away from the winged flames to meet his gaze, he rewards me with a soft, faint smile. I could kiss him. I don't. I don't intend to. I don't want to change things again and make it like it was three days ago. I don't.

I take a deep breath. "What do you think?"

He lowers his gaze to his hands with a quiet exhalation. "I think I should go," he says quietly. I don't want you to go. I don't voice this thought.

I watch him for a moment before he raises his head. The words are on my lips- "If you really believe it is His will, then go," I say instead, voice flat. Tired.

I make an effort not to gape or react too openly when he reaches forward and takes one of my hands in his. I hope my eyes aren't too wide. "I really believe it is." He is talking about the same thing as I am, right? Surely. He should be, right? Of course he is, what am I thinking?

I glance at our hands, his dark and warm over one of mine, tan and, in comparison, cold. I look up and meet his gaze. "When will you go?"

He shrugs. "Not sure yet." I nod. What is there to say?

I think I'm relieved when he lets go and withdraws his hand. I think.

We sit in silence for a while in our thoughts.

My mind is a whirling storm. Lord, I thought I asked You to take it away. Surely You don't will this, surely You don't will for me to be queen. Surely this isn't from You-

He stands slowly, offering a hand I take, and he pulls me up, his hand warm and steadying and safe, lingering for a moment before he lets go. And I wonder about the change between us. I wonder what it means, what it could mean. I don't know how to feel about it, if I should be happy or not. Is this His will or is this from me? I can't tell. I can't tell and it... Scares me.

"You alright?" he asks, one hand on the door handle as he turns to face me. The lantern flies, perhaps instinctually, hover overhead, awaiting freedom. In the golden amber, his eyes are more vivid than ever.

"Yeah," I say eventually. He furrows his eyebrows but doesn't say anything, expression unreadable before he opens the door, closing it behind me after I emerge from the shadows.

What now?

"Enough." His voice echoes in the expanse of the room as silence drops.

Opposite me, Nirs creases her forehead in question, bright green eyes swirling. I give her a slight shake of the head. She arrived in Anshakim just today, six days since I handed the message to the king.

I glance around the table. Here are almost all of the Sirdiu, and almost all of the kingdom's trusted messengers. Messengers were sent out at Dein's request four days ago, and they were responded to promptly. Here we all are now, seated in silence in a large room lit by lanterns lining the long table.

"I received a message from Kalsemir six days ago," he begins. All eyes are on him now, but he shows no sign of it. He sits upright, almost relaxed in stance but yet holding strength. His face is a mask, his eyes are cold. "The Commanders and High Commanders there say morale is low, and that there are many casualties. This war has cost the empire a lot in resources, livelihoods and people. They asked me to send one of Escatin blood to Kalsemir to raise morale and encourage more to fight."

The silence grows cold.

Lus cracks it. "Who are you sending?" His eyes gleam, flecks of gold like metal shards caught in blue stone. Now it is easy to see they are blood kin, and it becomes apparent the other Sirdiu and trusted messengers have remembered or realised the same thing. All eyes flick between the two men.

"Me."

Lus' expression, his eyes are unreadable.

"What in the provinces do you mean, you?" Sher asks suddenly. "You're the king."

He lifts his chin, vivid blue eyes piercing as he looks each member of the High meeting in the face before speaking. His mask is made of ice, and I almost shiver at how cold, how intense his expression is. I can't help but wonder what the others are thinking as his gaze sweeps past mine and on to the next person.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low. Commanding. "Yes. I'm king. I am figurehead of this empire." One of his fists curls on the table surface. "And if I'm to choose someone of Escatin blood to send to war, I choose myself."

He sweeps his gaze around the table again, and I see many of them fail to meet his gaze. There is silence.

I take a silent breath. "Hail king."

I feel their eyes resting upon me as I lift my chin and meet his vivid gaze.

A quiet and unsynchronised chorus of "Hail king" follows this brief silence, but his eyes don't move from mine as the chorus grows and strengthens into a chant that echoes through the room.

"Escatin! Escatin! Escatin!"

I drown in the noise around me until Dein breaks eye contact and rises from his throne, silence immediately falling.

"Enough." He raises an eyebrow. "If that is all, this meeting is adjourned." He flicks his gaze over us all once more. "I leave in three days."

He turns on his heel and sweeps out of the large room.

It erupts into noise in his wake.

"Who will be in charge if-"
"Who will go with-"
"What difference can he-"
"Who sent this me-"
"Why not send someone e-"

All around me, the Sirdiu are on their feet, the other trusted messengers standing, the only others seated other than me Nirs, Lus and Sher. They look at each other, then at me.

I can almost hear them thinking. What now?