Heir of Beasts

Ch. 1.5- A Woman Called Misery

So I just hammered this update out in two days and I have no idea how I feel about it. I'll probably hate it in the morning but oh well I'm just going to post it now and be done with it. Next chapter is back to O'otani, where there will be lots of angst, drama, and more angst. Prepare accordingly. Pack a backpack or something. And as always, thanks for reading. Legit surprised anyone stuck with this novel for so long.

- Swpoet

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I'm still bent over the letter, reading my mother's words for again and again and again, when the knock comes at the door. I notice my surroundings for the first time in what must have been hours; day has bled into night, the soft golden haze of twilight falling into a darkness broken only by starlight.

"Come in," I call, folding the letter up and slipping it into a drawer. Somehow I don't want anyone else to see it, as if the sanctity of the words would be disturbed by another's eyes.

Irei walks into the room and sits down in an open chair across from me, folding his hands in his lap. His eyes are still very serious, though the tension in his mouth has relaxed some in the intervening hours.

"What did the letter say?" He asks.

"The general outline is she's going east," I sigh, unable to keep my voice from sounding tired. "To Raclen. She thinks Queen Misarys might be convinced to go to war."

"So the Yi'ili were telling the truth," he says, his expression mingled surprise and admiration. "I knew Somitu was bold, but going to the mad queen of the east when she has no power left and not a penny to her name?" He shakes his head. "That woman is a force of nature. Always has been."

"She's mad, is what she is," I retort bitterly. "Of all the countries, she had to choose Raclen! A place where she might be murdered before she even crosses the border. And if she makes it to the palace to beg an army, she'll have to deal with a woman known for mysterious poisonings. Imagine entering into an alliance with Misarys, of all people!"

"Misarys of all people might be your saving grace," Irei says after a second of quiet consideration. "It's a dangerous plan, for sure, but there's some promise in it."

"Promise?" I repeat, with some pique. "You think dealing with a madwoman has promise?"

He nods. "The north was a dead end. They're too broke to fund anything. Brekkah disbanded their war council, and Yi'il refused her. That leaves the east. Of all the eastern countries rich enough to fund a war, Mirrenova and Raclen have the closest trade ties and the longest history of diplomatic involvement with Shikkah. And I bet Misarys is quicker to give her an audience than the Mirrenovese Council of Elders any day."

"And so what if she gives her an audience?" I challenge. "She's just as likely to kill my mother as help her, as mad as they say she is. And even if she does deign to help us, do we really want to tie our boat to a woman called Misery?"

"You might have to, if you want your country back."

I sigh. "It's just- Raclen is too much a risk. There has to be another way."

"Maybe," Irei answers. "But if none of us can see it, what does it matter?"

"Maybe it doesn't," I admit. "But when I think about putting my trust, my hope, in Misarys, it just- it feels unholy." I shake off a small shudder. "It feels perverse."

"You can be an idealist, or you can be a king," Irei answers with a shrug. "The path to power is rarely paved with moral acts, Shira. Do you think Aramizsa conquered Shikkah in the first place by pair play? No! She slaughtered anyone who got in her way and built her capitol on the smoldering ruins of a Harrowin city. You want Shikkah back, you need an army, and if you need an army, you need Misarys."