Page 108 of The Nymph King

CHAPTER 32

Ellisar had argued with her for nearly an hour before finally accepting the plan.

They stood with Lore and Esa over the war table in Stralas, the parley invitation between them, and Niflheim marked in black ink at the map’s edge. Imani had told him everything they knew, including the fact that Meira believed Saevel was alive, that the bond between them might be real, and that Saevel could be more than a prisoner. If Niflheim had two viable contenders for its monarchy just as Essenheim did, then finding him could give them the means to challenge Kiran’s claim publicly.

“You stay here,” Imani told Ellisar when he began to object again. “Someone has to rule Essenheim while I take apart what Kiran built.”

He gave her a flat look. “That sounds suspiciously like you volunteering for the more dangerous half.”

“It is the more dangerous half.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

Imani leaned both hands against the table. “If we both go and die, Essenheim loses its queen and king at the same time. Kiran wants me looking toward Niflheim while he keeps me guessing about what comes next. I am not leaving our kingdom without someone who can command its armies, answer the councils, and hold the borders if he moves against us.”

Ellisar pinched the bridge of his nose, then gave a reluctant nod. He understood the logic. Imani would cross into Niflheim and challenge Kiran directly. Ellisar would remain in Stralas as regent with authority to rule in her absence and respond immediately if Essenheim came under threat.

Gorrum had settled the question of the remaining delegation before Imani could object to that either. The High Sentinel was staying behind to continue overseeing the Sprite forces and the responsibilities he had begun transferring to Lore as the Heir Apparent of their territory.

“He insists I start doing the work before I possibly inherit the title,” Lore explained, his irritation making it obvious how many times Gorrum had already said the same thing. “And I am not letting Esa walk into Kiran’s palace without me.”

Esa folded her arms. “How touching.”

“It was not intended to be.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips anyway.

Imani pointed to each of them in turn. “Then everyone knows their purpose. Meira will confirm the bond, which hopefully means Saevel has a legitimate claim to the Throne of Destruction. Esa stays with me as First Witch and backs every magical decision I make. Lore watches the wards, the palace, and whatever Esa is too stubborn to notice while she is watching me.”

“I notice everything,” Esa muttered.

Imani’s finger moved back to Niflheim on the map. “If we find Saevel, we bring him into the parley and force Kiran to defend the Throne in front of every faction he invited to witness his power.”

Ellisar rolled his wand between his fingers. “And if Kiran moves against you before then?”

“I deal with him.”

“Imani.”

Her eyes bored into his. “You deal with Essenheim. I deal with Kiran. That is the agreement.”

He clearly hated it. After another long moment, Ellisar reached across the table and closed his hand around hers.

“Come back with my kingdom’s queen,” he said.

She squeezed his hand once. “Keep my kingdom standing while I’m gone.”

“Done.”

* * *

No fluttering handkerchiefs or cheering crowds saw them off this time. The heavy gates of Stralas opened just wide enough to let them slip through, then groaned shut behind them, as though the city itself wanted to deny where they were headed. They rode in a tight formation with Imani at the vanguard, Esa and Lore flanking, and Meira guarding the rear. Tension hummed low and constant through the group, unspoken yet universally understood.

“Kiran wouldn’t call a parley without a reason,” Lore said, breaking a long stretch of silence. “And whatever it is, it won’t be simple.”

“No,” Esa agreed, worrying the edge of her thumbnail. “It never is with him.”

At the back, Meira shifted in her saddle. Her gaze darted between the veterans before falling back on the road ahead. “I’ve met him,” she said, choosing her words with painstaking care. “Only a few times. Not enough to truly understand him.” A beat. “But the things they say… they say he doesn’t follow the Fabric like the rest of us. They say it bends around him instead.”