Page 118 of Unravelled
A murmur rippled through the council, tension breaking like ice beneath a rising sun. Some sighed in relief. Others shifted uneasily. Ren stood tense, his hands gripping the arms of his chair, white-knuckled, barely breathing, gaze locked on Mira as if willing her to wake fully.
Danlea turned toward her, the soft sweep of her gown whispering against the floor. Her expression remained gentle, her lips curved in a smile that might have seemed motherly.
“Mira?” Danlea whispered, her voice like a caress over the room. “Are you awake?” Mira forced her lips to part, her throat raw.
“Yes.” The word was jagged, like glass against her tongue.
“There now,” Danlea soothed, stepping closer. “You gave us quite a fright. I hope you do not mind my little intrusion. It was necessary, you see, to clear your name.” She turned slightly, addressing the council. “And it is clear.”
Silence.
“This is a farce.” Asric’s voice cut through the stillness like a blade.
Mira flinched, her body still weak, still aching, but her pulse spiked. Ren’s head snapped toward him sharply, his dark eyes flashing with a warning.
“This is an outrage.” Asric continued as he took a step forward.Toward the Queen, toward Mira.
“You expect us to believe this? That in all her time near the resistance, in the company of known conspirators, she knew nothing? That she never whispered secrets in the dark?” His teeth bared in something that was not quite a sneer, not quite a snarl.
Mira’s stomach turned. He was cornering her, framing her as both too weak to be useful, but too dangerous to be free.
“She knows nothing,” Danlea repeated, her voice even.
“She is a liability,” Asric pressed, stepping closer. “I demand her resignation from this council.”
Danlea’s voice was quiet. Lethal. “Are you questioning my loyalty or my ability, Lord Asric?”
Asric stilled.
Mira glanced at Ren and saw the edges of him cracking. Saw the regret in his gaze, the apology he did not speak. His lips parted, as if to say something, as if he wanted to reach for her. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t.
The Queen inclined her head slightly, her voice once more filling the room. “The council extends its sincerest apologies to Mira. For both the loss of your brother and the accusations today.”
Mira did not feel relief. She rose, slow, deliberate, and returned to her seat. The chair beneath her was solid, grounding, but the council chamber itself seemed distant, the voices around her blurring into something detached, something irrelevant.
Ren’s voice cut through the room. “The King of Kharador has sent word this morning”, each word sharp with purpose. “He is insisting on diplomatic talks in a few days time”
The effect was immediate. More than one noble stiffened in their seat. Lord Edric’s mouth parted slightly before he caught himself, his frown deepening. Brenna Helmard sat back, calculating. Even Danlea’s brow lifted a fraction.
Ren leaned forward, his hands braced against the polished wood. “We cannot refuse him, the guard will be split, half will remain stationed here for the peace talks, the other half deployed to reinforce the cities most vulnerable to attack. A standing force in the outer regions will not only deter Kharador, but it will remind the people that we have not abandoned them.”
Edric frowned. “That will spread our forces thin.”
“Less so than if we continue trying to fight a war against our own people and an invading army at the same time,” Ren countered.
Danlea spoke, “My army will continue to defend Bharalyn, doubling our forces.” The murmurs quieted.
The Queen’s milky eyes shone as she regarded the council. “You argue over how to end this insurgence. But what the Regent has recognized is the greater truth, it is not over. And it will not be, until Bharalyn is united again, from its capital to its farthest villages.”
Danlea's gaze swept over the council. “If you crush the resistance, another will rise. If you leave your people to suffer, they will look to Kharador for salvation.”
Silence hung in the air. Ren straightened. “Then let us decide.” His voice was clear, firm. “If we are to move forward, we must do so together. We vote now, on a plan that does not simply continue this war, but seeks to end it before Bharalyn collapses from within.”
His gaze swept the room. “All those in favor of bolstering our defenses while also rebuilding the lands we have left to ruin, of ensuring Bharalyn is worth fighting for, raise your hand.”
A beat. Then, one by one, hands lifted. First Danlea, calm and assured. Then Brenna Helmard, her sharp gaze flicking toward Ren before she raised her hand. More followed. The murmurs of uncertainty had faded, replaced by grim resolve. They cast their votes, one after another.
Mira’s hand rose. She glanced at Ren across the room. His eyes met hers, steady and waiting. The knot in her chest, wound tight from grief and silence, loosened. She raised her hand higher. Clear. Unshaking. Her voice wasn’t needed, her vote was enough.
