Hated by her lineage, Iliya Dalaminai dwells in self isolation, awaiting the day her cousin marries so she might escape the Throne.
Feared by the Gods, Sorein Chakrine's crown is mainly a relic put on display at royal ceremonies to ward off evil.
Wh...
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"I've asked Andrin and Destry to join us," Ezre said, having dismissed Siofra shortly after Iliya. "I have something we need to discuss."
Sorein's eyes tracked the chaotic movements of the King, noting the way his eyes shifted back and forth before truly focusing. He wasn't certain this was so important he'd have to do it with blood drying on his sweater, nor that it was worth traumatizing the Princess to do it, but he kept his mouth shut.
He reminded himself of the strength Iliya was gaining, enough to go out on the whims he'd known she always had. The dim impulsive spark dancing within her veins finally seeking an outlet.
Yet watching the young RIM officer follow his friend through the doors was curious enough. Iliya hadn't mentioned seeing Siofra that night, but he was certain she'd done something wrong.
Being on the receiving end of the Princess' wrath was never fun.
Still, Sorein reeled in his wandering mind in an attempt to stop antagonizing Ezre. He was worried and rightfully so. His temper had always been a wildcard.
"You asked them to join us in the middle of the night?" Sorein asked, raising a brow.
Ezre grunted at him, shaking his head. Not in denial but frustration, it seemed.
He supposed his comment might be antagonizing until his father walked in still wearing his usual – the slacks and jacket of a royal paired with a stretched undershirt. A lazy royal at that. Destry followed behind the picture of a wraith, her stare tired and haunted.
She wore a simple gown and corset with a flowing shawl draped around her shoulders.
"This doesn't seem like a court meeting," he mused under his breath.
Andrin shot him a look, taking in the sludge soaked clothes before bristling further. "What have you gotten yourself into?"
"It's a long story," Sorein replied, lowering his head partially.
Each of them took a seat at a small square table, far short of any gathering he'd ever been a part of. No one bore papers, yet all attention was on him as they took their seats.
Destry took a deep breath, clasping her hands on the table in front of them. "Sorein," she began softly, the voice of a mother equipped with information. "There are concerns within the city about your involvement with the attack."
He frowned. "I'm sorry?"
"Several parties are concerned that you knew the attack was going to take place..." Destry explained, looking at her hands as they wrung one another. "When Ezre found you both beneath the Aphyre..."
Heat raced through Sorein's body. "You think I would try to kill these people? Your people?" he snapped.
Ezre glared at him. "You've been absent from several Gatherings including Court, you disappeared after the attack, and now–"
