Alira

  Accusations of treason were enough to make anyone the center of attention in the room. Being the ambassador of a kingdom on the brink of becoming an enemy only made things worse. For now, an uneasy silence hung in the air, as if no one wanted to be the first to make a decision one way or another. This, in itself, was troubling. If a single word from him could make people disregard the concept of diplomatic immunity, then his influence over them was far greater than they realized.

  Seconds stretched into uncomfortable territory, until thankfully, a member of the army broke the tension. “Prelate, we’ve operated under this assumption since her arrival. She has remained in the palace, giving her no opportunity to gather intelligence. And she has diplomatic immunity. Without it, we’d soon be arresting every messenger or merchant crossing our borders. We’d be completely isolated.”

  Thank the gods for rational people. His position in the army meant the other generals quickly nodded in agreement.

  But the Prelate was unmoved. “Perhaps that is exactly what we need. Messengers and traders bring nothing but lies meant to weaken us.”

  I couldn’t stay silent. “Our kingdoms have known peace for over fifty years. Ascalon has thrived with our traders and messengers crossing the borders.” If he attacked my kingdom, I had to respond, staying quiet would be seen as tacit approval.

  I expected an immediate rebuttal, but instead, he hesitated, his gaze avoiding mine. He shifted uncomfortably before retreating into a protective cluster of military officers and nobles, shielding himself from direct confrontation.

  It was clear he had come to prevent the signing of this document, and he wasn’t shy about making his stance known. His corner of the room buzzed with heated debate, voices rising in fervent disagreement.

  I moved closer to Ren, murmuring, “I had no idea he wielded so much influence in the court.”

  Ren’s usual calm demeanor was absent, replaced by a furrowed brow and deep lines of concern etched across his forehead. “This doesn’t add up. Just two weeks ago, some of the men at his table were openly mocking him and his beliefs.”

  Though I had my own theories, I knew such sudden reversals often had more pragmatic roots. “People follow their self-interest,” I remarked.

  “Sure, some of them, I can understand. But not all of them. I know a few personally from my time working with the centaurs—they were stationed up north with me. They’d never, in a million years, agree to back him,” Ren insisted, his voice tinged with disbelief.

  My theory seemed to hold more weight by the minute. Yet, the mystery of how he was pulling this off remained. Had he stumbled upon some new form of mind control? It was the only explanation that made sense, though it felt almost too convenient to be true.

  The commotion in his corner gradually subsided, and the group made their way toward the main table.

  “I propose we adjourn this meeting for an hour,” he announced, his tone polished and diplomatic. “I have new information to present to the generals. The nobles are welcome to stay, of course, if they wish.” The underlying message was clear: he wanted the rest of us out of the room so he could command their full attention.

  Someone proposed putting the matter to a vote, and unsurprisingly, it passed with little resistance. There wasn’t much else to do but exit the room. All the military officials stayed behind, along with half the nobles. This was spiraling into a disaster. Why would a religious leader care so much about a single document? Even if he craved power, this wasn’t the place to seize it. And even if he was a powerful empath, why risk making a move here when he wasn’t fully prepared? None of it added up. I felt like I was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

  If he was willing to risk flaunting his influence so openly, it meant he wanted something specific. The accord couldn’t be his only goal. Sure, he wanted it stopped, but he could have easily ignored it later if he gained power down the line. That meant he was after someone who wouldn’t be around regardless of the vote’s outcome. And that someone had to be either me or Ena, since we planned to leave immediately after the vote to avoid giving them more reasons to suspect me of being a spy.

  Taking an elf prisoner would only rally more sympathy and support for our cause, especially in the event of a war, so that couldn’t be his aim. If he were that foolish, he wouldn’t have gotten this far. And capturing me? I wasn’t that significant. Unless… no, that was too far-fetched. But his sudden, meteoric rise, his inexplicable mastery of mind control, and his apparent interest in me. It all fit together in a way that sent a chill down my spine.

  I scanned the room where we had gathered and made my way to Ena. “Please excuse us,” I said to the noble she was speaking with, steering her aside. Once we were out of earshot, I whispered urgently, “We need to leave. Now.”

  “Why?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

  “I have a really bad feeling about this,” I replied, perhaps a little too emphatically.

  Just then, Ren approached us. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

  “There’s a strong possibility your Prelate is a mind control prodigy,” I said emphatically.

  His slight eye squint told me this wasn’t entirely surprising. “I’ve considered that before,” he admitted, “but the people ‘convinced’ by him don’t show the usual symptoms—confusion, headaches, or disorientation.”

  “I did say prodigy,” I added, careful not to push too hard and risk losing what little goodwill I had with him.

  “Even if what you’re saying is true—and for the record, I wish it were—there’s no way to prove it. Some people who agreed with him in the past have since changed their minds. If it is mind control, it’s something we’ve never seen before,” he explained.

  This wasn’t going according to plan. Soon, those doors would open, and there’d be no way for us to escape. Just the two of us running through the countryside wouldn’t get us far. I needed Ren’s resources, which meant I had to share more. If my hunch was correct, it’s not like Alexander could uncover anything he didn’t already know, even if he pulled the information from Ren’s mind.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Fine, I’ll tell you the truth,” I said, lowering my voice. “But I’m warning you, I didn’t share this before not because it’s some big secret, but because no one in their right mind would believe it.”

  He didn’t respond, just waited patiently. Even Ena leaned in, curious, since she only knew the basics. I leaned closer and whispered, “The gods are gone. Don’t ask me how or why. They’re gone, and they’re never coming back.”

  “But…” Ren started, surprising me with his lack of immediate skepticism.

  I gave him a faint smile. “Unfortunately, some of the gods managed to take human form before their… untimely end.” I raised a hand to stop any questions. “They’re powerful, but bound by mortal laws, meaning they can be killed if you hit them hard enough.”

  “And you think Prelate Alexander is one of these former gods?” Ena asked, mirroring my hushed tone.

  “It’s the only explanation for how he’s become so skilled at mind control,” I replied.

  Ren still didn’t look convinced. “While I believe the part about the gods being gone—based on many reports I’ve received—you have to admit, the rest is thin evidence.”

  “He wants me specifically because he realized today that he can’t read my mind. That made him more curious than anything. And I can’t let him capture me—there are other ways of extracting information. I’m not exactly great under torture,” I said. I mean, who is?

  I expected disbelief and was gearing up for another round of arguments, but Ren looked deep in thought, as if he was genuinely considering my story. At least Ena was more in line with my expectations—her expression told me she thought I might have spent too much time near the hard liquor table.

  “I believe you,” Ren said suddenly.

  “You do?” I asked, caught off guard. I mean, I was glad, but his quick acceptance sent my brain into overdrive with potential negative implications. Was he working with Alexander? Or was he the demi-god all along, hiding in plain sight and controlling everyone from the shadows? Oh, Elune, I was starting to sound like Tiberius and his over-the-top conspiracy theories. I didn’t have time for this. Focus!

  “Then let’s make an excuse and leave,” I said.

  He nodded and started toward the door, with me and Ena following close behind. Ena still didn’t look entirely convinced, but she stayed with us.

  Unfortunately, our escape was over before it even began. The guards at the door didn’t budge, their stony expressions unwavering.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Ren demanded, trying to assert his authority. But these were soldiers following orders, and a noble raising his voice at them was nothing new.

  “No one leaves until the meeting is over,” one of them finally said in response to Ren’s insistence.

  Great. Just great. Now what? Cause a scene to escape? That would draw all eyes to us and ruin any extraction plan Ren might have had. On the other hand, staying put meant waiting for the inevitable. Neither option was appealing.

  “We can’t cause a scene,” Ren muttered under his breath. “We need to wait for a favorable opportunity.” He might have said more, but the doors swung open, and Prelate Alexander emerged first, followed by the others.

  Of course, he finished early. There was a joke in there somewhere, but humor was the furthest thing from my mind.

  “Ambassador Ena,” Alexander began, his tone smooth and diplomatic, “I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news. My colleagues have agreed to postpone the signing for another date. You’re welcome to continue enjoying our hospitality, if you wish.”

  Ena responded immediately, likely prepared for every possible outcome. “I must express my disappointment at this turn of events, but such is the nature of diplomacy. We can try again in the future. For now, however, it’s best to let things settle. I won’t impose on our generous hosts any longer. We shall prepare to leave immediately.” She glanced at Ren, her expression unreadable.

  “Of course, Ambassador,” Ren said, gesturing toward the door still blocked by the guards. “The mage tower is this way.”

  “Guards,” Alexander called, his tone shifting abruptly. “Arrest the Malachor citizen. The elf may go.” The pretense of politeness was gone, replaced by cold authority.

  It seemed I’d been demoted—I was a “citizen” now. Before the guards could fully process the order and move, the doors had already been opened partway, revealing four more guards in the corridor beyond. If Ena was safe, I could try to make a break for it alone. The chances were slim, but better than staying here.

  Before I could act, a general standing behind Alexander spoke up, his voice firm and commanding. “Alexander, I must protest. This was not what we agreed to. She is a diplomat. We’ve upheld these rules for years, and I will not see them broken. Soldiers, stand down!” he practically shouted.

  The guards immediately stepped aside, their obedience to the general overriding Alexander’s command.

  “You were always too stubborn for your own good,” he said to the general.

  The general looked shocked to be spoken to in such a way, but a quick glance at the surrounding officers revealed that his indignation was not widely shared. Soldiers emerged from behind the military ranks, moving without orders toward a select few individuals.

  I could hardly believe it. I was witnessing a coup unfold in real time.

  “What is the meaning of this?” one of the men shouted, but the room had already descended into chaos.

  I had only seconds before new orders would be issued. I turned to Ena. “Stay here. You should be safe.”

  As I spun to run, I glanced at Ren. His expression was frozen in pure shock, his attention fully consumed by the unfolding coup.

  The two guards by the door didn’t react fast enough to my sudden sprint, but those ahead moved instinctively. I had no time to fight—every second lost meant capture. I dodged the first pair with ease, their delayed reactions giving me an opening. The second pair tried to block my path, but the palace corridors were built for opulence, wide enough for me to feint left before dashing right.

  Shouts erupted behind me, no doubt orders to apprehend me. But I had scouted the palace days ago, memorizing every corridor, every servant’s passage. My eyes flicked to a tapestry near the far wall, behind it was a narrow stairwell leading to the kitchens and, from there, the outer courtyard. Too obvious. They’d expect me to go that way.

  My real escape route was through a series of rooms leading to a window with a tree just within jumping distance.

  I sprinted toward the window, relief washing over me when I saw it was open. The tree stood directly ahead—I just needed speed. I pushed off the ground and dove through.

  I had miscalculated.

  I hit the branches harder than expected, pain jolting through my limbs as I tumbled down the tree. No time to linger. I scrambled down and into the garden, weaving through hedges and flowerbeds. The outer wall was close, its shadows my best cover.

  Then I heard it, the pounding of feet behind me.

  I glanced back and nearly stumbled in shock. Alexander. He was gaining on me, fast.

  He was quicker, but not fast enough to catch me before the wall. I had walked this path only once before, and I knew the wall had thin windows meant for archers in a siege. By my rough estimation, I could squeeze through. Hopefully. With every feast at my disposal during my stay, let’s just say I wasn’t as sure as I’d like to be.

  His footsteps came ever closer. I veered into a storage area, balancing across beams to save precious seconds. The window loomed ahead.

  I lunged, twisting my body to fit. It was a tight squeeze, but I forced my way through.

  Outside. Five stories up, but outside. Alexander would have to go around to a tower to descend. And with the sun already set, my chances had just gotten significantly better.

  The wall was made of bricks, which was the only reason I felt confident in choosing this path- enough edges to grip on the way down. Barely five seconds had passed when a powerful impact sent chunks of brick flying into the night. I was lucky the force of the strike sent the debris outward instead of straight at me.

  I moved sideways as fast as possible, trying to stay ahead of the destruction. A few more blows and the wall gave way, crumbling into a gaping hole wide enough for light to spill through. His face emerged from the opening, scanning the darkness for me.

  I hurried, shifting diagonally to put more distance between us. He reached for a brick, and I froze, preparing to dodge, but he hesitated. A near-smile tugged at my lips. He wanted me alive. Even with healers, there were limits to what they could fix after a fall from this height.

  I resumed my descent, gripping the brickwork carefully, making steady progress. Below me, the city sprawled into the distance. If I was fast enough, I could vanish into the streets. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have time to lock all the gates. And even if they did, it was a big city, and he had a coup to conclude.