To the Shadowsinger | Azriel

Chapter 21: What if

"Queen Raisa," The High Lord looked polished as he held his mate's hand and led her to a seat he pulled out. "You look less inclined to vomit today."

Raisa's eyes didn't leave the High Lady. She looked much like her sister but without the scowl, but Raisa felt more intimidated by the High Lady. Raisa shifted in her chair, feeling the challenge as neither her nor the High Lady refused to look away. The room was silent in their tension.

"I'd like you to meet the High Lady, my mate Feyre." Rhysand sat down in his seat, eyeing his mate with curiosity.

"It's a pleasure," Raisa's voice was tight. She knew it was idiotic to be cold towards the High Lady, but Raisa could tell she had already made her mind up about her.

The Queen sat on her hands to keep them from shaking. Why am I so nervous? The High Lady was incredibly beautiful but Raisa didn't usually let beauty intimidate her. Was it because she knew dinner was about to turn sour? Despite wanting to leave, she nodded to the High Lady, "Thank you for having me as your guest."

The High Lady was a different sort of ruler, Raisa noted. Anyone could have looked to the pair of mates and realize their power and status but while Rhysand was cunning and Raisa kept to the shadows, Feyre had a cultivating elegance to her that didn't cause her authority to suffer. Even Azriel looked at her with great respect, which made Raisa more nervous to lose her only support at a table of watchful eyes.

She was alone in this. The odd one out.

"I've heard so much about you in these past few days," Feyre gave her a tilted-head look. Raisa knew it was bait.

"How unfair," Her voice was steadier than she thought it'd be. "Azriel is quite the chatterbox yet he failed to mention much about you."

The High Lady's eyes drifted to Azriel, a small smile curled at her lips. "Is that so?"

Raisa felt lighter without the weight of the High Lady's attention. "I'm guessing you already know why I'm here. I didn't exactly make a good first impression in your court, so my apologies, but I'd like to be allies."

The High Lord and Lady shared a look Raisa couldn't decipher. "What we're trying to understand," Feyre said, "Is why, after all these centuries, are you just now deciding to do something?"

Raisa knew that she had always wanted to do something but the issue was figuring out how to solve the problem. "Bryaxis offered me a solution to my problem. I didn't think it was possible to defeat my husband. But then you released Bryaxis and he came to me."

Feyre blinked once, her lips parting. "Bryaxis," she said the name as if it was the beginning of a lullaby. "He is your grandfather and the creator of the mirror, am I correct?"

Raisa nodded. He had been her mother's father.

"Bryaxis is your grandfather?" Cassian cut through the tension with his loud comment. Raisa wanted to smile at him in relief and thanks. When she did, his eyes widened a bit in fear.

"He's been looking for the mirror ever since you stopped searching for him. He came to me asking for my help and in return, I can use the mirror to rebuild the Vallahan monarchy," Raisa looked between Rhysand and Feyre. She was surprised by how quiet the High Lord was staying. He let his mate lead the discussion while his violet eyes remained on her.

"I see," Feyre folded her hands on the table. "But have you ever looked into the mirror. Do you know what it does to those that do?"

Raisa bit her tongue. "No, I've never looked into it, but I am not a fool. I know what it is capable of, more than you could imagine."

Feyre's eyes went cold, "Would you say it is capable of taking out a whole army?"

Raisa went still in her seat. She remembered telling that to Azriel. One quick glance to him and she saw he was stone faced as ever. She didn't let it bother her, she knew he owed her no loyalty. "So I've been told. But that isn't the reason I wish to use it-"

"Enough," Feyre cut her off. "You think I'd hand over such a dangerous weapon? The citizens of Prythian finally know peace and you think I'm going to threaten that by handing over a powerful weapon to my enemy? What if your plan doesn't work? What if your husband gets possession of the mirror and uses it against us?"

All these what ifs made Raisa want to yell, but she held back. She had seven sets of eyes waiting for her to lash out and prove that she was the enemy the High Lady claimed her to be. Her mouth fell open, but she had no words. What the High Lady had said was all a possibility- she could fail and be the cause of so many deaths. These worries ran through her, making her chest tighten until breathing became nearly impossible.

A scarred hand rested on her knee under the table. As soon as she felt it, her hands fumbled to grab it and hold it with desperation. Azriel gave her a reassuring squeeze once her hand was in his. She slowly started to calm down, letting him be her anchor.

"What if it works?" Raisa said without being able to look anyone in the eye. Her voice was so small but filled with hope. It has to work. I can't live like this anymore.

The room was silent for a while. No one moved or dare broke the silence, making Raisa feel even more pathetic than she already did.

"I'm sorry," the High Lady finally spoke. "But my mind has already been made up. The mirror is being taken to a secure location and you will never have to see it. Be thankful for that; the Ouroboros may have shattered your mind before you even got it to Vallahan."