The Last Daughter of Elysia

Chapter 13

The High Seer crashed through the council room doors like a mouse trying to outrun a cat. The council members stopped their discussion and fell silent.

"My, my, you're looking worse for wear, Balthazaar." Lord Moraxes trailed an eye over the High Seer's sweaty face, stained robes, and disheveled hair. Moraxes's dark hair was slicked back and he wore an impeccable green brocade suit.

"Your Majesty, I need your urgent council," Balthazaar wheezed.

Lord Undine's lip curled. "Could this not have waited till we finished the meeting? Where are the guards?" He wore a silky aquamarine suit that had coral cufflinks.

"I sent them away because you didn't want anyone to overhear your proposal to raise healer taxes in the Undine Islands." Damon arched a brow, the sun glinting over the diamond buttons on his forest-green suit.

There was an awful pause where Lord Undine glanced between the High Seer and Damon. His eyes narrowed, knowing full well that the Prince had just outed his plans to the High Seer. Balthazaar was trustworthy but still... Lord Undine took the wisest course of action and chose to remain silent. Instead, he added Balthazaar's name to the proposal which had been drafted on flattened coral. After this meeting he'd make sure Balthazaar would keep silent about it. 

"Go on, Balthazaar." Erik waved a hand, eyes still on the proposal in front of him. His gold crown glinted, like the gold pin on his velvet maroon suit. 

Balthazaar's bowels turned watery as all the lords fixed him to the spot with cold stares.

Once upon a time he'd been important, just like them. He used to be invited to council meetings, he used to sit in this ridiculously opulent room with its rich furniture and its sapphire chandelier. Balthazaar's voice mattered once, but after the war, the High Seer had been edged out of the council. Apparently, he was too old, and his mind wasn't as sharp as it used to be. He felt as unwelcome and insignificant as a sprite.

"Majesty it is best if we discuss this matter in private," his knobbly hands shook.

"Why?"

"I've had a vision."

The King glanced up and stared at Balthazaar for one long moment, then he placed the proposal down. "Council members, we'll recommence this meeting tomorrow."

Chairs scraped back as everyone stood up and took copies of the proposal with them.

Lord Moraxes gave the High Seer a shrewd look, planning to corner him later and get the information out of him. Moraxes would get it, one way or the other, either through bribery or blackmail. He knew it had been many years since Balthazaar had a vision, and that whatever it was would be of great value.

Damon walked past the High Seer, features blank, trained from an early age to conceal his emotions. If the vision was important, his father would notify him.

Once everyone left, a thick silence fell.

"Your Majesty I've had a vision about the grimoire," Balthazaar began, voice as brittle as a dry twig.

"What of it?"

"It's disappeared. It's not in the vault anymore."

The king was as still as if he were carved from ice. "Valerio," his voice was smooth and deadly like a cobra weaving through the grass.

Valerio stepped out of a bookcase's shadow, looking neat and polished in his black uniform. He bowed. "Your Majesty."

Balthazaar hid his surprise. He'd forgotten that sometimes the Spy Captain trailed the King like an invisible guard.