Chapter Sixteen

“Your father agrees that we should keep the treaty, and since Larkisis is dead, Claven should take his place.” Damion shoved Lock’s drink at him hard enough to splash some onto his grey robes. If looks could kill, Damion would have a dozen daggers sticking out of him.

He turned gracefully to Claven, holding his drink away from him. “And you agree the only way peace can be maintained is through this marriage?” Damion asked.

“I’m not a fool. Peace can be subjective and there are, of course, other ways. However, this is the straightest line and most beneficial to everyone. I hold any further thoughts to myself to see what happens.” Damion handed over the drink without fuss. Volencia had been excited to see him throw the drink in Claven’s face. Instead, he returned to his post beside Volencia, crossing his arms.

Lock cleared his throat. “Your father agreed already to the change of betrothed. There’s nothing else to discuss, other than when and where you would prefer to hold the wedding. It may be in your best interest, considering yesterday, to have something public, so people don’t start talking about you running off with a stranger, all alone.” His eyes swept over Damion. “Considering everything, I would personally want to see whatever agreements you made with this heathen annulled. But it would be up to Claven to decide what to do with that.”

“I am aware that your Empirical Law states that a female is incapable of making her own decisions. I am also aware, that Thambair never agreed to these laws of our own free will. My father never agreed to any of it while of sound mind, and therefore, I will not honor it. You have the right to choose to bring this to war, and then I have the right to choose how to handle it from there. But I will not marry Claven. I am the true ruler of my Kingdom at this time, and I will not stand idly by and simply hand you the crown.”

“You listen here—” Lock jumped out of his chair, quickly closing the distance between them. Damion’s arm went out. A warning not to get too close, his hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

“That’s enough. You will remain arms reach away, and if you take another step, you will be considered in breach of that agreement. Therefor we can construe the advance to be a threat.” Lock took a step back, pushing the sword down. “Also, you will give our Princess her due respect.”

“Venron.” Lock commanded. “You agree Volencia should marry Claven in the wake of Larkisis’s death, do you not?”

Venron gave Lock an icy stare before nodding, “Yes, I agree.”

“See. Perfectly of sound mind.” Lock’s arm arched toward him as if that were all the proof he needed.

“Father. Venron, you agree Lock can marry Claven if he wants a wedding so badly, do you not?”

For the first time Volencia could remember, Venron gave a shadow of a smile before saying, “Yes, I agree.”

Lock’s smile vanished. She couldn’t help but laugh, Damion and Gregron both cracked smiles. “How dare you, you stupid little whore.”

It wasn’t Lock who was in danger of breaking the armistice this time. Damion was halfway to him, sword drawn, before Volencia threw her arms around his waist, pulling him back. “Don’t!” She circled him, getting in front of him and pushing at his chest to force him back. “We can’t be the ones to break the armistice.”

He stopped, pointing at Lock. “Then hear this; we will do what we must to meet the agreements of the truce. But that neither means you are welcome here, and it certainly means the Princess will not, under any circumstances marry into your Empire to be treated less than any normal folk deserves.”

“The armistice itself demands that any previous agreements made must stand.” Lock gave them all a wicked smile.

“Then let us finish this now. We’ll take your war today before she agrees. Not that I believe for a moment that she or her father ever willing agreed to any of this.” Damion’s arm wrapped around Volencia’s shoulders protectively. She curled deeper into his arms, reveling in having someone to lean on. The idea that she wasn’t alone made all of this easier.

“After all this talk about not needing to hide behind a male, here you are letting him speak for you? It’s our treaty. Do you deny me? Will you break the armistice?” Lock challenged, his look put her on edge. She needed the year, but it would all be pointless if she was locked away by a horrible husband.

“I agree with his statement. I will take war today over a marriage I never agreed to.” Volencia squared her shoulders, and looked up at Damion, hoping with all her being he really would stand by her. His eyes were dark, nothing like yesterday, his pupils looked like little pieces of coal, and the whites of his eyes were too small. All his focus was on Lock and Claven.

Anger flared around them. Like a child in the midst of a tantrum Lock screamed, stomping his feet. He knocked everything off the side table, where a lamp shattered on the floor. Steam might as well have been coming out of his ears. If she wasn’t so afraid of them, she would have been tempted to laugh. Claven rolled his eyes, moving to stand beside Lock. “Well, that’s embarrassing.” He frowned watching Lock’s ridiculous actions. “Anyway, that’s not really part of the armistice, if you couldn’t tell. Though we can come to annoy you all we want, welcomed or not. Instead, let me say this.” His eyes flicked from Volencia to Damion. “Leave her to handle this on her own. You owe her nothing. Just met yesterday if what I saw was telling.” Claven scratched at his chin. His voice lilting and full of promise. Volencia grabbed her skirts, her heart thrumbing painfully in her chest as he raised a brow looking down at Claven. “I’ll pay you ten times her agreed price. If your name, Damion, tells me anything, it’s that you were raised by the Samanthians. I’ll provide them full amnesty. Either rebuild the Temple of Ephira, assuming you can find it, or Claglion. A whole city, all to themselves again. They can live happily under your rule. I’ll give you full jurisdiction over them. I can off you any companionship you could want. Gold. Jewels. Even adventure if you prefer. Forget this child’s play. I can give you so much more.”

Volencia’s hand found his, entwining her shaking fingers through his. As she touched him, his dark eyes glanced down at her, unsmiling. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking and was terrified he would accept this other offer. What did she have to offer him? No where near this much, and she needed him so much more.

Claven put his hand into his robe, offering up a small envelope, holding it out to Damion. “You can even come see it all before you agree, Volencia is more than welcome also. I’m having the other Council members over for a meeting and dinner this next moon. Come and speak with them. Hear what our side really feels and thinks. It’s not all that bad. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Damion took the invitation, pulling the wax seal away from the paper. Pulling the lavish card out, his muscles stiffened around Volencia. His eyes dulled. It looked like his pupils exploded in his eyes as the darkness filled their entirety from corner to corner.

Claven smiled, putting his hand against her cheek. “You enjoy. It’s time we take our leave.”

Lock was in complete control of himself, and the realization that all this was set up for this moment hit her. She didn’t know what they did to Damion but didn’t think it would be good for either of them. What she didn’t understand was how they could do it. Damion started pacing back and forth, his hand weaving through his hair.

“Are you okay?” Volencia’s heart pounded. She reached for the card, but he pulled away from her.

Gregron stepped forward, locking the door to the study. “There was a spell on the card.”

“Damion?” He covered his face in his hands, and when he looked up at her, they were inky wells of nothing. The shine was gone, and they looked more like shadows than eyes. The veins around his eyes bulged, also turning black all around him. “What is happening to him?” She gasped, watching as his hands clench and unclench as he paced back and forth, shaking his head like a wounded animal.

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