Chapter 14

I hum to myself as I shuffle through a stack of fresh parchment. The words on the pages don't phase me even though I know they should.

The North is in danger.

Varkeshians are just a few months away from attacking.

46 women missing. 22 men dead.

The queen is back. She wants revenge. She'll kill us.

The world has shattered. Flee while you can.

I know that words don't matter here. They won't save me or stop the war or bring Bex back or keep Keita, Leander or Draven safe.

These papers only serve to annoy me. The stack contains posters and rioters messages, letters to the palace and concerns from families in the North.

Their concerns and wants are valid, but they will never be promised safety or war. I can't promise anything. I can't give a word that I cannot uphold.

So I tap my pen as I flip through another outrageous plea to go to Varkeshia and raid their keep, free their prisoners and sting any survivors up to die.

A sigh leaves my lips. People really, truly, believe that that approach will work. Cooks and shits. That's what they are. Crazies and Delusional crazies. Nit a one of them can possible be sane.

I straighten up as a knock comes at my door. Right on time yet again Draven.

Before I can answer the door he throws the doors open, striding in with a grin on his smug face and hands in his pockets. Every inch of him oozes arrogance.

"Evelyn. So sweet of you to invite me over. I've been looking forward to going over some reports with you." How, how, can his voice be so chipper and brooding and low and seductive at the same time. Damn it all to Hell. What is he doing to me.

I give him a tight lipped smile, "I'm thrilled you stopped by. Have a seat."

He follows my directions, sitting across from me as I lean back into my pillows. I'm not even dressed aside from my frilly night gown. He shoves a stack of papers in front of me and I want to glare.

Can't he see that I already have far to many parchments to shift through. Instead of a frown though, I give him a feline smile, my teeth showing. He doesn't even notice my threatening look as he hums some obscure piano song, tapping his fingers.

What the Hells has him in an up an at'em mood?

His voice is as light as his expression, his words lilting and mesmerizing, a song that calms my less than pleasant thoughts, "reports suggest that Varkeshian wind elementalists are behind half our troubles and Earth benders and blood mages make up the rest of our issues."

I stop tapping my pen. The way he says suggest like sa -jest is strangely nice in a surprisingly non-suggestive manor. "I'm to understand that the shifters are annoying us as well."

"I see no reason that they would. Shifters are loyal to no one and they have to little power to do much damage."

"I don't agree. They make wonderful spies and they can be bought. I've done it one or two times myself."

He shakes his head, adamant, "the shifters are a kingdom all of their own. They cannot be bought."

"I have reports signed by the last whale king himself. And we have to consider that that is also how Revenna was able to gather such forces."

"Then we take action."

"I completely agree. I'll send my emissary over to begin negotiations."

"They can't be trusted. We need to take care of them before they take care of us."

I shake my head in annoyance. So many small annoyances I have to deal with already today, "everyone can be bought."

"And what if the Varkeshians can pay more than we can?"

"The Varkeshians don't deal in secrets. I have to use shifters won already."

"Somehow I don't believe that."

The way his head shakes makes me wonder if he cheats on his wife. Everything about him says sex appeal. "You don't trust me. I don't expect you to."

"I trust you more than I would like to," he covers his mouth, mumbling out a quick curse, "I can't keep my mouth shut around you."

I smile, "your not the only one."

"I still don't trust the spies."

"Neither do I, but we don't just have to worry about the shifters, do we Andromeda?" I say raising my voice at the end.

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