Neven looks his way again. A trace of a flush colors his pale cheeks.
Hmm. I might not be the only one hoping for a more private reunion.
Raul drums his fingers on the table, still looking amused. “I can’t say the trek from Lavira was much fun, but I dodged all of Valerisse’s people easily enough. It took a bit of a detour getting around that swarm of them squatting across the border.” His expression darkens. “She’s getting restless.”
I jerk my mind back to matters that should be more important than the ache in my heart. “I heard Valerisse stayed behind in Rodrige. Do you have any idea what she’s working on there?”
He shakes his head. “My mother’s people hadn’t been able to determine, other than possibly she was hunting down citizens she thought would rebel against her rebellion. She and a pack of her pet soldiers were roaming the streets in the couple of days before I left.”
Axius folds his arms over his broad chest. “What other news can you bring? Will the Lavirian royals support Aurelia against Valerisse as well as they’re able?”
Raul’s mouth twists into a grimace, and I know it isn’t going to be that simple. “She isn’t completely convinced… but I did make progress. Shewantsto believe joining forces with Dariu under Aurelia will solve her own problems in the long run. And the crown prince is completely on board.”
He catches my gaze. “The queen just doesn’t quite trust you yet. I’m not sure what it would take. If I could have pushed her farther by staying, I would have.”
Regret roughens his tone. I resist the urge to squeeze his hand. “I know you would. Thank you for conveying my message and encouraging her as much as you did.”
I shift my attention to Neven. “And your parents?”
“They want to help,” he says quickly. “But they’re concerned—to throw the limited military they still have into a full-out war… My family did get a good impression of you when you visited during the tour. Mother said if they see the right opening, they’ll act.”
The right opening. How can I know what that means or whether the Gorician royals will follow through on their word even if I can orchestrate it?
They need to trust me more too. To trust that I can bring the future I promised them into fruition.
How did I find myself in a position where my fate rested on so many people other than myself?
As that question knots me up from throat to gut, Raul lifts his chin. “What about Lorenzo and Bastien? No sign of them yet?”
He speaks casually, but his jaw flexes after he’s spoken as if he’s reining in a deeper tension. He’ll be as concerned about his foster brothers as I am.
I inhale slowly to steady myself. “Lorenzo was able tocommunicate with us briefly. He wanted to stay a little longer to continue planning with his family, but from what he said then, I expect him to be back within a day or two.”
Assuming he isn’t caught up in enemy action, which thankfully seems unlikely coming from the south.
“Bastien…” I go on. “We haven’t had any word from him so far. But I didn’t expect to. I’m sure he’ll make his way back as soon as he feels the time is right.”
Gods help us, let that not be too long from now.
I turn to Neven again, partly out of necessity but also to distract myself. “Have you been getting more impressions of Sabrelle’s mood or intentions over the past weeks?”
The prince of Goric grimaces. “More dreams. More bits of visions. Lots of aggression and attempts at terrorizing. She’s… definitely not happy. I think she assumed you’d give up by now, and it’s frustrating her that you haven’t.”
I don’t think I want to see how the godlen of war behaves when she’s frustrated if she wasn’t before.
“I’ll attempt to meditate to her again,” I say. Maybe now that I may have gained some favor with many of her fellow godlen, she’ll be willing to listen to me. However distant that possibility feels. “And we’ll keep shoring up?—”
Knuckles rap hastily against the door. Axius opens it to find a breathless page outside. “I think Her Imperial Highness should see this—in the garden—we don’t know what to make of it.”
A chill floods around my chest. I stride forward in the midst of my guards, bracing myself for the worst.
The princes, the high commander, and the captain all hustle behind me. We reach the broad windows overlooking the garden?—
And there, over the orchard, a narrow shower is dappling the newly budding spring leaves. It streams down in such a condensed streak of rain it only hits a few of the treetops.
I peer up at the sky and spot the single gray cloud floating like a bit of lint against the blue. After a moment, it drifts toward us, leaving a streak of rain across the grass and the garden planters.
The page wrings her hands. “It’s been doing that since we noticed it. Stopping and then moving closer. One of the footmen got wet—he said it seems like normal water. But I don’t know…”