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I look around the amphitheater, scanning the crowd. There are easily a thousand boxes, and most are occupied. “If each box has one vote, and each of the seven councilors’ hands count for a hundred, it’s practically impossible for the chamber to overthrow the council, should they actually agree on anything.”
“There are fifteen hundred votes overall; seven hundred of them belong to the council.”
I can tell the motion is going to get rejected before the vicar of the Pillar announces, “Five hundred and thirty-three votes. The motion is dismissed.”
I’m completely baffled. “Why did they reject it?” The entire proposal was to make them safer.
Reiks’s glare is fixed on his father. “Because no one wants to give soldiers away, especially if there’s a real threat. But half of the noble resides here. The other half frequently visits. If Magnapolis falls, the rest of the kingdoms will be weakened.”
“Doesn’t Valina know that?” I ask Mar.
My cousin sighs. “Like she said, it’s not really our issue. If she voted for the motion, she’d be expected to support it first. Now excuse me, I need to catch Val before she returns home.”
I watch her leave her box and rush through the throng of people. Politics are frustrating. Why can’t people just do the right thing?
I must have asked it out loud, as Reiks replies, “Their direct, immediate interest rarely aligns with the greater good.” He stands, seconds before the holy man declares this session over.
“At least we didn’t waste too much of our time.”
“This wasn’t a waste at all.” Reiks offers me a hand to help me stand. “Let’s wait until most of the crowd has made their way out.”
I nod, my mind churning, trying to guess what he meant; the meeting felt like a waste to me. Finally, it comes to me. “The information’s out there now.”
He inclines his head. “Everyone knows we have the plans, and they’re all going to reinforce their individual defenses. Magnapolis won’t have extra guards, but they have a warning. That’s as valuable. In all likelihood, the rebels will regroup to reorganize their plan.”
That sounds logical, reassuring.
The fear of rebel attacks is always there in the background, especially when traveling country roads without many guards, but it’s never been this real before today. The leaders of the world discussed the possibility of a general attack—a civil war—like it could happen tomorrow. That’s sobering.
“You knew what was going to happen today,” I realize. “Zale told the Royal Pride.”
“I do wish you’d find another name for us.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call me feather, yet here we are.”
“It fits, though. You’re delicate, soft, yet strong, just like a feather.” He shoots me his winning smirk.
My usual reaction to his compliments is to roll my eyes, but this time, I just blush. It’s hard to dismiss what he says now. He seems to enjoy getting his hands on me, so he might mean some of what he says at least. I don’t get it. We were just sitting with one of the most beautiful women I know, and he barely spared her a glance.
Part of me wonders where he sees this going. One moment, I think I’m his shield-with-benefits. I’m here, pretending to be his, so fucking me is easy, convenient. Then, I wonder at his gentleness, the way he’s honest and clear with me, not hiding behind his princely mask. I remember his touch, the way he worships me and degrades me at the same time. It doesn’t feel fake.
I should ask him. I feel silly just thinking it, though. “Do you like me?” feels like a needy teen’s question.
“What did you think of your first council session?”
“It’s frustrating to watch people willfully turning their backs on what’s right.” I pout.
“Right and wrong are highly subjective, feather.”
I huff, following him out of the box. “I also didn’t like being a spectator, without a voice. I have an opinion, but it couldn’t impact the vote, like Mar’s.”
Reiks smiles. “We’ll make a politician out of you yet. I’ll see that you have a voice the next time we sit here.”
I’m just about to ask how, when I feel a shift in the air. I bristle, and my head snaps up, though I can’t see anything under the white stone cobbles making up the amphitheater floor. I feel my energy blast out of me, and instead of reeling it in, I let it flow.
Then the screaming starts.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
