Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Of course, Erya had ample rules and guidelines in place should something happen to the royal family. The country would not simply stop functioning. General Morgan had things in hand and Rayne knew without a doubt that if they didn’t return, she would hold elections to keep the kingdom on a prosperous and fair track.
But Erya had been through enough pain and suffering with the loss of Queen Amara and New Rosanthe’s invasion. It would be better if they could get Caelan home and seated on the throne, even if he was technically a god now.
“Please sit, Lord Laurent. Let us have a civil chat.”
Rayne nodded and slipped into one of the chairs on the opposite side of the elegant rosewood coffee table.
“Tea? Or perhaps some wine? I would wager it’s been a while since you’ve enjoyed a glass. I had several bottles of Cragspeak red brought along. No one can make a smoother red wine than Damardor.”
Rayne’s smile was brittle as he said, “Tea would be lovely, thank you. A good cup is hard to come by in the Ordas.”
He’d barely finished speaking when a servant swept in soundlessly, placing a porcelain cup and saucer in front of him with delicately painted flowers and a rim edged in gold. A small ball tea diffuser was placed in the cup and hot water was poured over it. They sat in silence for three minutes as the hot water turned a deep mahogany brown. The servant removed the diffuser and disappeared again while Rayne carefully added one lump of sugar to his cup.
Holding the saucer in one hand with the cup balanced on it, Rayne slowly stirred the tea as the sugar dissolved.
“I see no reason to beat around the bush. We’re both men accustomed to the world of politics and intrigue. We can bluster and grandstand, but I’m an old man. I have no interest in wasting my time. We both know your king is in the hands of the goddess as we speak. She will kill him and that will put you next on the throne,” Naram Suen announced with the same blasé tone that one used when discussing the fall harvests.
Rayne didn’t blink and didn’t falter. He’d been expecting this. He tapped his spoon on the side of his cup twice and set it on the saucer. As if he had all the time in the world, he blew slowly on the liquid before indulging in a small sip. It wasn’t bad tea. A little weaker than he preferred—but then, he’d always found Caspagir and Erya tea to be far superior to what was churned out of New Rosanthe.
“Lovely tea,” Rayne murmured as he carefully placed the cup and saucer on the table again. He relaxed in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands together in his lap. “That is an interesting notion, Your Majesty. While I must concede that it is a possibility, I don’t believe it is the only possible outcome of their meeting. What is your interest and the interest of New Rosanthe in Erya?”
Those dark eyes narrowed on him, and the emperor’s lips thinned further for a second as if he didn’t think Rayne was taking him seriously. Rayne wasn’t, entirely. There was a chance that Caelan could die when he fought the Goddess of the Hunt, but it was not a foregone conclusion like the emperor believed. And Rayne was very interested in dragging out what information the man did have.
“Without your king and his connection to the gods, I fear for the well-being of Erya. I would hate for anything to happen to your once vibrant and prosperous country.” Emperor Naram Suen spread his hands in front of him. “That is why I am willing to offer Erya the safety of becoming a protectorate of New Rosanthe. You will maintain your autonomy the same as Damardor and Uris-Oladul, but you will be asked to make sure that Erya’s interests are aligned with the Empire’s.”
Rayne’s smile was tight and careful. “And if Erya should decide to pass on this generous offer in favor of remaining fully autonomous?”
“Then I’m afraid that we would not be able to protect Erya from the wrath of Zyros. It is unfortunate, but the Goddess of the Hunt bears no love for those who imprisoned her, and she is well aware that Erya has close ties with the Goddess of Life.”
“While I do appreciate the offer for protection,” Rayne said and paused to give the emperor another smile. He continued on a sigh that sounded fake even to his own ears. “I’m afraid that this isn’t His Majesty’s first meeting with the Goddess of the Hunt. During the first meeting, she made her intentions quite clear—all of Thia is to be remade in the image of her choosing. And that image would be of the Ordas.” Rayne let the smile fall away and narrowed his own gaze on the emperor. “How much do you truly trust the goddess, Your Majesty? Do you really feel confident that New Rosanthe is going to remain untouched if Zyros succeeds?”