Azael gave Tissaia several hours to be by herself, despite how it grated against his instincts. Every part of him was itching to find a way to relieve her sorrow, but he knew only time could do that, and if she wanted him for anything, she would tell him.

    Instead, he kept himself occupied well past midnight with a variety of preparations for the newcomers. As Kahari said, the counselors had already selected rooms for them all, but he tasked himself with ensuring that his father's was well prepared for any explosive outburst the male might have.

    He had any items of value removed from the chamber and anything breakable was cast with a temporary shield to protect it. Azael didn't wish to remove more than was necessary. From what Gaelen told him, Mavron had been living like a prisoner since they left Arcan. He didn't want to upset the male further after what he was going to spring upon him.

    Some semblance of normality after what his father had been living with might do him well, Azael surmised. When that task was complete, he cloistered himself in the manor's extensive library and set to work writing out all the points of his proposition for the counselors, just in case memory failed him tomorrow.

    He was only grateful that he wouldn't have to plead his case entirely on his own. Tissaia would be there to support him. Gaelen was going to give a full report on everything he had witnessed in the mountains and since then. Vael and Kahari were going to offer insight into the struggles of the Forest Dwellers and the rising issue of the Blood Fae.

    And in addition to that, Azael was going to mention the state he'd seen his less fortunate subjects living in. Everyone from the Human woman who had let them stay in her barn, to the people of the village that had suffered from the fire. He'd always known there was more that the Royal Family could be doing for their people, and now that he'd seen it with his own eyes, he wasn't going to let his father or the counselors tell him otherwise.

    Asterria needed a change if it was going to survive the future. He would make that change. When his preparations were complete and there was little else for him to do, Azael finally returned to the inn and went to bed with Tissaia wrapped firmly in his arms.

•༻☽☾༺•

    Dawn came altogether too early and Azael was roused by a loud rapping at their door. He let out a disgruntled huff and slid out of bed to answer it. He was greeted by a young messenger boy. "Your Highness. I was asked to inform you that the King is expected to arrive within the hour."

    Azael blinked in surprise and the last of his weariness melted away, being replaced by instant anxiety. He only bowed his head to the boy and closed the door. Tissaia was sitting up when he looked back at her. "Are you all right?" She asked, lifting a brow.

    "I might throw up, but otherwise, yes." He raked his fingers through his hair with a heavy breath, then began gathering up the clothes he'd chosen for today.

    "It's going to be fine," Tissaia soothed. He didn't reply while he stepped into his pants and tugged a shirt over his head. When he lowered his arms, Tissaia had risen. Her slender hand rested against his arm before she touched her lips to his jaw. "They'll listen to us and see the sense in your words."

    "And if they don't?" He sighed.

    "We'll make them."

    He heard the unyielding firmness in her voice and didn't bother to raise any of his other doubts. Instead he cupped her cheek in his hand and drew her mouth to his. "You don't have to come, if you don't wish to," he murmured. "I know politics are probably the last thing on your mind right now."

    "I'm coming," she affirmed. "If I'm going to be your Queen, we have to face these things together, and show the counselors how we intend to rule. And besides," she lowered her head, but not before he caught the hollow gleam in her eyes, "I should keep myself distracted for a little while."

    Azael kissed her forehead this time. "You'd better get ready then. We'll need to leave as soon as possible." Tissaia nodded and began to gather her own clothes.

•༻☽☾༺•

    Forty-five minutes later, Tissaia found herself back at the Lochren Manor, standing on the front steps as carriages rolled onto the grounds. She fisted her hand in the material of her skirt, briefly wishing she'd forgone a gown.

    This was the first time she'd been in one since the Aerstar ball, and she'd grown accustomed to not having to wear so many layers. Under today's brilliant sun, her skin was already prickling with warmth. But she had wanted to make a good impression. To look as much like a Queen as Azael looked like a King.

    Affection flared in her chest as she glanced at her mate from the corner of her eye. He didn't even appear nervous, though she felt his lingering anxiety through their bond. Sunlight reflected off his hair in a glow almost as golden as Orilight, sheathed at his hip. A glow that was a crown all its own, though he didn't need one.

    He wasn't just Oriana's Heir, unlike Mavron. He was Oriana's Chosen, and every part of him reflected that. As the King's carriage rolled up to the steps, Tissaia laced her fingers through Azael's and squared her shoulders. The door opened, and Mavron Cadhael stepped out, accompanied by two guards and a counselor.

    He somehow looked older than she remembered. His blond hair, several shades lighter than Azael's, looked dull and limp. His skin which had always been lightly tanned was now pale, and there were thick lines etched around his downturned lips and across his brow.

    His gaze was already fixed on his son, and the sword at his side. None of them spoke as the King mounted the steps to stand before them. "You leave as a Prince and return as a thief," the male grunted.

    Azael didn't so much as flinch, but Tissaia tightened her hand around his. "Save your insults, Father," he murmured. "I'll have stolen more than a sword by the end of this day."

    Mavron gave a disinterested sniff. "I wondered if that was your intent. Well, good luck. That sword never made me a King, and it certainly won't aid in your cause." He made to brush past Azael, but was halted by soft words.

    "Oriana denied you her blessing because you are not worthy," Azael said. "You never have been, and you never will be. This sword was always going to be mine. It wouldn't shine for me otherwise. I will not dishonor you with my next actions, Father, but I will not let you continue dragging our kingdom into ruin."

    Mavron wasn't given a chance to reply. Gaelen appeared to escort him back to the selected conference chamber, and Tissaia couldn't help but smile at the enraged look on the old King's face. They remained to greet the rest of the counselors before following.

    When they finally entered the conference chamber, Vael and Kahari were already there, next to two empty seats at the head of the table. Mavron had been seated at the other end of it. Azael pulled out one of the chairs and inclined his head to it. Tissaia sat, before he took his place beside her.

    "I'm sure you all want an explanation for our disappearance along with the Phoenix, and how we came to be here today," Azael began. "But first, I'm afraid I must inform you that Kaius Kaellar is also deceased." A fresh jolt of pain squeezed Tissaia's heart and she closed her eyes briefly, schooling her emotions back into submission.

    "How?" One of the counselors stammered. 

    Tissaia let Azael be the one to speak, and listened quietly as he told of Kaius's first vision and how they all set out together in search of the gods' artifact. He kept his story brief, but still shared as many details as possible.

    How they had been guided by Kaius's violent visions. How they met Vaeldan and Kahari, and came to the suspicion that Hadeon's Spawn was trapped somewhere within the Vidar. Their encounters with the Blood Fae themselves, and how Roshan had attacked them and taken Kaius captive.

    Many of the counselors seemed unconvinced as he shared why they believed Roshan had done so, and how he'd been in league with Astaroth, but then Gaelen stepped in to share what he had witnessed in the mountain temple.

    Their disbelief turned to discomfort then, which only grew when Azael continued to describe what had happened here, in the manor when they tried to reclaim the gods' book. When Azael was done, he gestured for Vael and Kahari to share what they knew, and they solidified his report on what was happening in the Vidar Forest, as well as what had occurred in the mountains.

    When they were finished, the counselors, and even King Mavron, were staring in shock. "How is any of this possible?" One of them finally asked. "Lord Roshan has always been a powerful leader and a good male. He would not..."

    Tissaia rose, cutting him off as the attention shifted onto her. "A good male would not hire members of the Mountain Clans to torture his daughter while teaching his son to be a killer," she growled. "A good male would not break his wife in ways so unimaginable that she would then allow him to do the same to her children to protect herself from further torment."

    "And a good male would not try to steal power from a weak and struggling King to serve his own wicked purposes. My father was many things, Counselor, but a good male is not one of them." She sat back down, and the counselor did not speak again.

    Silence hung thick until at last, Mavron cleared his throat. "Say what you really mean, Son," he ordered. "Why are we here?"

    "We are here because Asterria needs a change," Azael answered calmly. "And I have a proposition that I'm sure you are not going to like."

    Now, he stood, and pushed several sheets of paper down to the other side of the table. The counselors glanced at each other before taking one and reading over whatever he had written down.

    "I propose a regency. My father is not fit to hold the authority of being a King and has proven that time and time again. While I do not wish to force him to abdicate or to take his title until his death as dictated by our traditions, I believe it's time his authority went to someone who has the appropriate mental capacity and desire to use it for the betterment of Asterria."

    Azael's gaze landed on his father as he drew Orilight, and the blade's golden light spilled across the table. He used the blade to point at a blank line on the paper before himself. "If you all digress to sign this, it will appoint me as my father's regent, along with Lady Tissaia."

    "Her?" Mavron scoffed. "You're not even married."

    "Not yet," Tissaia amended. "As you all know, we like to take our time in that regard." A few nervous smiles reflected across the table. "But we have claimed Azael's birthright as a descendant of Oriana, and bonded ourselves." She extended her left hand, allowing them to glimpse the scar across her palm.

    "A mating bond," one of them realized. "There hasn't been a mated pair in the Royal Family since the King's great-grandparents."

    Tissaia looked at Azael with a smile as he folded his hand over hers and sheathed Orilight. "What use was Nepenthe's gift to her wards if their descendants don't also use it to be with those they love? And what use is a Crown and a goddess-blessed sword if we don't use them to protect and govern our people?"

    One by one, the counselors looked at each other, then began taking quills that were waiting in the center of the table and leaving their signatures on the papers. Her mate's features remained passive, but within her own chest, she could feel his surprise. At last, it was only Mavron who had not signed.

    Azael met his father's gaze once more. "I don't wish to take more from you than I have to," he said. "But I'm done letting you overturn every decision I make out of spite, and watching our people suffer for it."

    "Don't sign because you owe it to me. Do it because Asterria needs you to. And if for nothing else, do it as a final courtesy for my mother, who died because you failed her, not me. Just like you've failed your kingdom."

    Mavron's eyes glinted with defiance, but to Tissaia's shock, he voiced no argument. He only bent over the paper, and signed his name, then pushed his seat back from the table and rose. "Fine. Let it be you and your whore that the people blame for their problems."

    Before he could storm away, Gaelen was suddenly in front of him, teeth bared and one hand on the hilt of his sword. "Careful," the male warned. "You will give Prince Azael and Lady Tissaia the respect they deserve for all they've been through, and for the courtesy they're extending to you even after how you've treated them."

    "Let him pass," Azael called, and Gaelen stepped back. No one said anything more as Mavron exited the room, and the counselors slowly began to excuse themselves.

    Only one paused beside Tissaia and Azael. Her eyes widened when the male reached into his pocket and revealed a small velvet lined box which he pressed into Azael's hand. "I suppose it makes sense now, why you asked for this to be retrieved," the counselor chuckled, before leaving the room as well.

    Tissaia faced Azael as he opened the box, revealing the heirloom ring that had been passed down from Queen Idalia to every female member of the Cadhael line. It was stunning, with a delicate golden band studded by seven magnificent white gems.

    The centerpiece was the largest gem, while the others were clustered around it, three on each side. The gems were uncut, resembling clustered crystals within Kahari's staff more than the diamonds Tissaia was accustomed to. Her breath caught as Azael took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. Light danced within the gems, almost seemed to come from within them.

    "It was another gift from Oriana to her daughter," Azael said. "Idalia's husband found the gems himself, and fashioned them into a ring, which he then presented to Oriana when he was asking for her blessing. She gave it, and supposedly placed pieces of light within each of the gems."

    "It's beautiful," Tissaia whispered. Again, her heart squeezed with longing and her eyes began to sting. "I wish I could show it to Talarion and Kaius." Azael said nothing, but drew her into a warm embrace.