Page 54 of The War of Wings
“I could blow this castle to pieces on a whim.”
Cal nodded, a determined set to his jaw. “Make sure they remember it.”
And with a final breath, we pushed through the doors.
“Ah, Queen Petra,” Queen Irli greeted, lowering her head in my direction as she stood before her seat at one end of the large dining table. Her expression was far more cheerful than I would’ve expected, her deep brown eyes twinkling and the apples of her cheeks rosy. Not the look of a queen whose kingdom had beennearlyattacked just hours ago. “Thank you for joining us.”
King Laion did not deign to stand for our entrance. His lips were twisted and downturned, his dark brows furrowed over even darker eyes as he watched us move into the room.
“Thank you for having us,” I answered politely as Cal pulled out one of the gold-framed, upholstered chairs for me. He lowered himself onto the seat beside mine, and Miles found his seat on the other side of the table.
I swore Laion mumbled something under his breath as we all settled in. Irli’s eyes caught on Miles, and they widened for a split second before she cleared her throat. “Do you find your accommodations sufficient?” she asked.
“They’re perfect, thank you.” This felt awkward. I shifted in my seat, giving Irli a small smile.
Luckily, I didn’t have to think of any more small talk, because a line of servants filed through a door at the back of the dining room. They placed a large plate before each of us, laden with meats and potatoes and some sort of roasted green vegetable I didn’t recognize. Another servant brought forth a bottle of wine, and I eyed him as he moved around the table, pouring into the goblets set at each of our settings.
I speared my fork through a chunk of roasted potato, an awkward silence falling heavy and thick. Queen Irli’s eyes were on Miles once again. Miles’ eyes, however, were trained on his plate before him. King Laion stared straight at me, hands steepled below his chin, his fork still laid on the table beside his plate. I let him stare, taking a sip of my wine without breaking his eye contact once.
“So,” I said, dabbing the corner of my mouth with my napkin. “Shall we discuss military aid?”
“It’s customary to wait until after we’ve all dined to discuss any military matters,” King Laion snapped.
Frustration nipped at me, but I managed to keep a saccharine smile on my face. “Apologies, King Laion. I’m not well-versed in the customs of kingdoms that call me a liar and…what was the other term in Nesan’s response?”
Cal forwent his wine, instead taking a sip from his water goblet. “I believe it wasa crazed lunatic, your Majesty.”
“Ah, yes. That was it. Thank you for reminding me. So, please pardon my manners. Facing a battle against a demon lord has indeed made me just a smidge crazed.”
Queen Irli leaned forward. “Please forgive my husband, your Majesty. He and Cabillia have a…strained past, which he’s allowed to damage his view of the entire continent of Astran.”
“Because you fucked the Cabillian king.”
Cal choked on his water, descending into a cough that took effort to rein in. Even Miles pursed his lips and raised his brows, but Queen Irli seemed more or less unfazed, and flashed anapologetic smile. “Dear, there are more pressing matters at hand.”
Laion sucked his teeth, shooting his wife a glare that made her sink back into her seat. “We wait until the meal is done.”
I raised a brow at the plate that still sat untouched in front of the king, wondering how long he was going to drag this out. “Do you think Malosym would wait for you to clear your plate, your Majesty?” I asked, cutting a piece of the beef before placing it in my mouth. I chewed, keeping my eyes narrowed on him.
“I think he’d wait if he knew–”
“He wouldn’t,” I cut in, taking a deep gulp of wine before I sat back in my chair. “Tell me, King Laion, do you know the source of Malosym’s power?” No one knew the answer to that question besides Malosym, the Occulti, and the Saints. Perhaps I should’ve included it in the missives I’d hastily scrawled and all but thrown into the wind.
Laion’s jaw ground back and forth. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“Pain.” I straightened slowly, keeping my eyes locked on his. He didn’t look away, though I swore his face paled the slightest bit. “Malosym and the Occulti feed on pain. The more pain they cause, the stronger they become, and the more Occulti demons Malosym can create.”
The King’s lips parted, and for the first time since we sat down, I thought maybe we were making progress. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Queen Irli shift in her seat, leaning closer to the table.
I pressed my fingertips into the crimson tablecloth, sinking my teeth into this tiny show of fear. “He doesn’t care about the quarrel you have with another kingdom. He’s coming for us all, whether we fight or not. Should we simply lie down and let him ravage the realm, or should we do everything in our power to give ourselves even the slightest chance of victory?”
For a moment, it seemed like my words had resonated with him, but he quickly pulled his walls back up. His featureshardened, his dark eyes pinning me in place in a way that felt strangely familiar. I fought the urge to look away as his lip twitched almost imperceptibly.
“I simply cannot look past the fact that you sent the entire city into mayhem and panic by flying in on your massive beasts.”
“You called me a crazed lunatic. Forgive me for acting the part.”
He huffed, grumbling something under his breath as his hands slammed onto the armrests of his chair. “Fine, then. Let’s discuss military aid.”
