84 | ACT VI, SCENE I

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P R E V I O U S L Y

"The ceasefire starts tomorrow afternoon. If Endollon unites as one, we might have the slimmest chance of survival."
I fainted. Again.

HARTINGTON CASTLE, ALNWICK, STORMHOLT

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HARTINGTON CASTLE, ALNWICK, STORMHOLT.

EDWINA

THREE LETTERS HAD GONE OUT at once after Leora had disappeared with the ring.

Three letters asking for help in the war that was coming.

The first to Vezort Island, to the Dessari bound to it by Pandora's curse.

The second to the twin armies of the Grendel, the race that depended on the very water of the Derwent for survival.

The third to the elusive Valkyrie of Cesterfield, the bloodthirsty people who had supported Helios in the first Titanomachy.

It had taken hours and hours of the previous evening and the entire night for the arguing immortals of Endollon to finally agree to meet and listen to us. They had finally given in after Tristan and Eric had both lost their tempers. The six great Houses of Endollon were wild, angry beasts - and I shuddered at the mere thought of even trying to convince the likes of Deimos and Emerick to side with us. It was a fool's errand to try, but it was the only way out we had.

Because when the Titans came back, they would not discriminate.

They would kill each and every one of us, regardless of whether we were Tremayne, Valmont, Rotavelle or Everly.

The gods had grudgingly agreed to call a short truce over their own battles. Agreed to put aside their differences for half a day, only to listen once. They agreed to a meeting in the neutral territory of Steffith, for tensions still ran sharper than a knife. It was Tristan who told - commanded - Sarette Rotavelle to cast a binding spell on Calchester Citadel. It would force all of us into ceasefire, one that would have dire consequences if any of us dared to use our power.

He had not come to bed that night - no. I could barely remember what had happened after I had fainted, I didn't even register him carrying me to our bedroom in the middle of the night. It was in the early hours before dawn when I woke from the uneasy sleep. The sky had still been grey when I found him asleep on the couch, worn out from exhaustion. A stack of unread letters was scattered across the floor, the replies we had been waiting for. I had gently shaken him, and he had opened a bleary eye hazed with sleep. With some coaxing and persuasion I had managed to get him to bed, softly pressing a light kiss on his brow before settling him under the warm covers.

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