The great hall in Saebia's palace reminds me of the king's personal dining area. The table is long, the centerpiece in the middle—a floral arrangement—is much too wide for the number of empty chairs and the gold place settings at every seat share a mat with a fork, knife, and spoon. Although the plates are empty, these young-faced and confident servants take each one and stack them in their arms, promising to return with them later.

"Please, take a seat," Arjun offers kindly. He gestures to the many chairs, sweeping his arm wide, and pulls out the chair at the head of the table for himself. The servants step forward to help but he waves them off.

Alaric and Silas sit at his sides, the two most respectable people in the room and those with leadership qualities. The two princes are a physical blockade when I sit between them and the rest of the chairs are stuffed with a rebellion that is way beyond asking for their means. 

For a moment, the only sound is the chairs scraping along the marble floors.

I dare to meet the king's eye and he smiles at me, unknowing to the fact of who sits at his table. I can't eat with my gloves on. And he sees that as well, pointing to the leather gloves that cover my hands and the tattoo on the back. "Make yourself comfortable, we may be here for a while," he jokes.

Renit squeezes my knee to reassure me that if anything happens, he'll be there. Finger by finger, my hands shaking, I remove the glove on my right hand as Arjun watches. When he sees the pale skin on my left hand, he says nothing. But when I peel off the other glove and set it within my lap, only to return my hand back to the table, he stills. And frowns.

Ever since I left the king's control, I've understood the many facial expressions gifted to me by others. Hate is one of them. Dislike, distaste, the craving to kill. I can't tell exactly what the king is expressing when he looks at the tattoo on the back of my hand, but his eyes light up with failed recognition.

"It seems we don't just have two princes sitting at this table," he grumbles. "I assume you're no longer the tyrant the king made you to be?"

He won't meet my eye. The move is indicative of him flaring his nostrils, licking his dry lips to restore the false moisture that will never show itself, no matter how many times he attempts to correct his body going against him. I don't want to know what power he holds for he can unleash it against me. For my sake, I hope it's that of a mortal witch.

"If I was, I would try to kill you instead," I say simply. "Like Silas, I had no control over the things I did."

He holds up a dark hand. "No need to defend. Though, you are the reason I lost the war. Surely, I'm allowed to feel hatred towards you and...others at this table." He doesn't know what role Binx played, but if that's the person he's looking for, Binx sits at the other end of the table with Citlali, his hands folded together and clamped tight to keep himself from fidgeting.

"We only hope it doesn't influence your desire to help us," Alaric protests. He lays his hand flat on the table, not too close to the king sitting at the head. One wrong move and we're out of here. "You're our last hope."

"Is that right?" Arjun leans back in his chair when a servant brings him a plate full of steaming food. He hardly pays attention to the bowl of soup holding prawns, vegetables, and a flavorful broth. I'm reminded of the spices we smelled on the way into the port, how they cradled my nose and made me wish for such a meal. Little did I know, I'd eat it shortly. "Coming to ask for my help is a bold choice by a rebel's standard. You come across the ocean, risking illness and your ship sinking. You risk a battle against the tides, and yet, here you are. Barely short of falling to your knees to beg for my help.

"My people have suffered," Arjun goes on. "They believe the king of Esaria will attack them at any day, for that is the truth. But they are willing to die for this land and you wish...a rebellion wishes to use them as their own. How do you think that will make them feel? Do you think they'll consider themselves proud to join you?"

Alaric, as any sane man might do, stutters. He doesn't know what to say. Arjun speaks confidently, not like a man that lost a war and not like a fallen king. He speaks like he's still fighting for his throne and will stand for his land until the time comes that he can stand no longer. The world is against him and everything, down to his people, is failing to realize that there is still hope in this world. Hope in a rebellion.

"That is what we came to discuss with you," Renit speaks. He doesn't shy away from Arjun's dark stare, the golden crown on his head, interlaced with black rubies to match his shoulder-length hair. He's young. But that doesn't tell me his true age. "If you help us with this, we have every right to return the favor when we win. You won't be an enemy of Esaria. You'll be our ally with Silas takes the throne." Renit gives a pointed look to his brother, and Silas nods in confirmation before thanking the servant that sets the plate in front of him. I can hardly look at my food without feeling nauseous.

Arjun takes his spoon and gently sips the soup. I hold my breath as he considers. We've only begun. This conversation may turn out to be a failure and we'll go back to Esaria empty-handed with lost time, lost resources, and lost energy. Saebia being our last hope leaves us with no other options to fail. This can't fail. We haven't thought of an alternative if this fails.

"I think all of this is quite amusing," Arjun says, sitting back in his chair. He waves his hand around to the table before him and the sleeve of his robe almost falls in the soup. "You come to me a month after I lost a war and ask for aid for the kingdom I lost to. How does any of this make sense?"

He laughs and attempts to rub memories from his brow by massaging his temples.

Alaric returns a similar sentiment of false glee. "That's the thing, Your Majesty. Rebellions rarely make sense but we have the chance to make something right for the first time in a long time." He looks to the two princes for emphasis and just like that, with a simple stare, everything Renit has ever done in response to his father's orders vanishes. "For as long as I can remember, Esaria was led by a cruel ruler. That won't be the case with Silas. That won't be the case for any king of Marron blood generations from now for we are changing the pace of this world."

"How do I know Silas Marron will not evolve to be his father?" Arjun doesn't smile any longer. "I can't trust the words that leave your mouth no more than I can trust the king of Esaria."

Silas brings himself forward in his chair and clears his throat. "If I may, Your Majesty, the only faults you've heard of mine are those that my father forced me to commit. I can honestly say I plan to make a change for the kingdom of Esaria and I'll willing to do whatever it takes to ensure my father is no longer on the throne. But to do that, we need loyal warriors willing to fight for a better future. Generations from now, your kingdom will still stand if you do this. If you don't...we both fall. Everyone but my father falls."

Arjun waves his spoon around before taking another sip of the broth and a bite of prawn. He chews, brows furrowed, and licks his lips. The napkin at his side, a fine handkerchief with lace edging, goes unnoticed. "I know nothing of your forces. I know nothing of what you've done already to stop your father—other than, I suppose, setting both of you free." He jerks his chin at me and I realize that's the only recognition I deserve. "I cannot agree to something like this without knowing your operation."

"The fact you're considering it in the first place is more than we expected," Silas jokes. At least that receives a fraction of a laugh. Better than him attempting to take our heads right here at this table, over bowls of prawn soup. "Our forces are mostly mortals but it's not necessarily strength we need. We need more—more soldiers, more power, more immortals and mortals, whatever is ours for the taking."

"All right; say I do this for your rebellion. Say I send a ship of soldiers, of my trained men and women to your land and help you take down the king of Esaria so you can take the crown and throne for yourself." Arjun leans back in his chair, and like everyone else in the room has vanished from his eyesight, it's only Silas he looks at.

The conversation being had at the other end of the table—mild laughter and light tones that shouldn't be the background music to this meeting—is distracting. But not to two men sitting at the head of the table. Silas has had his fair share of stare downs and tense conversations with men and women of status, but I wonder if he's ever gone against a fellow ruler. Another king different from his father. We've received a meal, and we weren't bound in chains beforehand. That says enough about Arjun, the king of Saebia.

"What's in it for me?" He asks.

Silas folds his hands together on the table, dark hands clasping as one. "We give you an alliance. A trade alliance, war alliance, we bring you aid when you wish it and you have full access to Esaria's borders and the land within. Your people, human or witch, are free to come and go as they please. We offer you a future for your kingdom and you are in charge of that future. Not my father. Not anyone of Marron blood," he declares.

I'm overcome with a sense of pride. It blossoms in my chest and I sit up straighter and bite down my smile around a slurp of prawn broth. The spices are just as delectable tasting them as it was to smell them, but my senses muddle. What I'm really focused on is the man sitting to my left, the witch of mirroring, and how confident he sounds. Through his lips, like poetry, our rebellion is professional. We stand a chance through his words, and that effect is finding its way from one end of the table to the other.

Silas wasn't supposed to be this sane when we brought him back from his father's control. He wasn't supposed to prepare himself to rule in his father's stead once we got this done, extra forces or not. I still expect him to crumble once all this is over, but for the time being, Silas is standing as tall as one can when faced with what he went through. He's a true leader—raised and born to be one.

The man sitting at the head of the table doesn't flinch, nor does he have to. We have laid everything out before him. Our offer, our forces, everything it takes for him to make this decision.

"My people are beaten down, injured, and have lost all hope," Arjun ventures. "They believe they are to die with this land, and if I give them a second chance..."

His words trail off and he stares at the corner of the table, pursing his lips together. He sucks on a tooth in consideration. Everyone is holding their breath and the mild conversation being had at the other end of the table slows, then stops altogether. They want to hear this; they want to know what Arjun will have to say about us, about what he plans to do.

"To be honest, Your Majesty, choosing this option is better than allowing your people to die," I offer with a profound shred of input. No sooner can I stop the words before they're coming out of my mouth. "This gives them a chance; most may give up their lives to fight for a better future for both lands."

Arjun's black, soulless eyes hold more than what is on the surface. He is not that; he is kind and loyal to his people. He'd rather die than flee and let them deal with the consequences. Those eyes watch me carefully, judge the fact of my standing, and I stare right back. He's deciding whether I'm worth it. If this entire rebellion, due to my involvement, is worth it. I'll beg on my knees if I have to.

"Are you willing to do the same, witch of ground?" He questions. "Are you willing to give up your life for a better future, even if you are not here to see it?"

A simple question, but I've already answered the likes of this before. My answer doesn't come with complications. I find Renit's stare with a quick dart of my eyes. "Yes, I am willing to give my life for a better future." I don't break Renit's contact, and it's my way of telling him that I'm striving to make a better future for him. I want to see him live in a better future, whether I'm here or not. When I turn to Arjun, he's already studying me once more. "What the king did to me wasn't fair; what he's doing to the rest of those innocent men and women, your people included, is not fair. I wish to change that and if it comes to it, I'll be the one to slash his tendons so he can no longer walk. Then I'll drag him before the crown prince of Esaria to complete the task of dethroning a cruel man."

"I'm certain every day of yours is filled with guilt for what you've done."

"It is." Alaric's stare drops away from my own when I look at him. "I cannot forget the faces or the weight of what I've done. I wish to make it right by fighting for a better life for witches present and witches future."

Craning his neck, Arjun views the rest of the table beyond us. It's no surprise that his eyes stick on Tesha, sitting next to Alaric and blocked in by Bren in the other chair. She hasn't spoken throughout this entire ordeal and she hasn't taken a bite of the food on her plate. Her arms cross and when the king's attention grants she return the favor, her eyes bore flames into the cherry wood table.

"Are you from here?" Arjun asks.

Her nostrils flare and I kick her shin underneath the table. "I served in your war as a sniper. Tesha Arya, lead of sniper command," she explains, her teeth clenched. I wouldn't want to be on the other side of that stare, but Arjun doesn't balk against it.

"I remember the name, but never saw your face." The king knocks his knuckles on the table. "You've escaped from your post and fled, never to be seen again. None of your fellow soldiers knew where you went, but it's clear now. You fled to join the rebellion and fight your own way instead of fighting in a war that had no end." The click of his tongue reveals a disappointment that makes my heart sink. "I suppose you were smarter than most on that front."

I perk up. That's better than hearing about Tesha's betrayal to her land, her abandonment of soldiers, her simple life compared to the fight they were going through. There's so much beyond this human woman sitting across from me that I wish to know. How she lived her life so fearlessly, only to fight for herself because it was damn quicker than waiting around for someone else to do it.

"I did what I believed was best for my survival," Tesha deadpans. "I am tired of dealing with the king of Esaria on the throne, and I decided to do something about it. This will forever be my home, but in order for me to enjoy it, I need to know our borders are safe. The only way to make that work is by taking down another leader."

The corner of Arjun's mouth turns up. "I suppose you're right. My people cannot enjoy their lives if they fear what lies across the ocean. Tell you what—" he scratches at his chin "—I'll hand over some of my men. But it won't be my strongest; I will not deploy them until I am certain this will work. In return for a trade alliance and war alliance, I will hand over my best assassins, guards, and lowlifes that wish to fight. Immortal or not, they are yours."

Silas's wide smile blossoms. He extends his hand out to the king of Saebia and they shake, not only in a deal done but in appreciation. I squeeze Renit's knee to keep down my excitement, to keep myself from flipping this table. Not out of anger, but out of pure glee. We did it. We may not receive the strongest, not yet, but there's a strong chance we will. We need strength, not in power but in numbers, and Arjun is granting that to us—tied with a silk bow.

"As for you," Arjun goes on, looking to Tesha once more. In fact, all attention goes to her. "You served my kingdom well, and it would be foolish of me to provide nothing in return. If you wish to take it, there is a position in this castle available. I believe it belongs to you—Captain of the Guard. It is yours to take if you so please, but if you don't, then I proclaim all the riches you wish will be bestowed upon you once this is over."

Tesha's skin blanches. She stutters over the right words to say, but an invisible hand belonging to herself slaps her across the face and she blinks herself back to reality. Leaning back in her chair to maintain that cool composure, she crosses her arms over her chest. "I shall consider your offer," she mutters.

"It is a dreadful trip from kingdom to kingdom, but—"

The doors to the great hall slam open and guards rush in, commotion spreading throughout the halls. Arjun immediately stands from his chair, dark hands bracing onto the wooden table before him. Everyone stills.

"What is it?" He demands.

"Your Majesty, a fleet of Esaria soldiers is making their way here. They wish to take what is theirs," a guard with a shaken voice explains.

Arjun's stare turns cold. He looks to no one other than me when he says, "You have your alliance. Show me what you're willing to do to protect it."