Alex ignored the surly man and kept her eyes on the king.
“The inter-species political environment isn’t the most stable at the moment, Alex,” Aurileous said, his tone apologetic but unyielding. “Until we can offer proof of a threat against them, it’s best we keep this to ourselves.”
It took a great deal of courage for Alex to quietly say, “With all due respect, Your Highness, you’re wrong.”
“Insufferable child,” Jaxon said, again under his breath, and again Alex ignored him.
“They need to know what’s coming,” she continued. Her body rigid, she finished, “And if you don’t tell them, I will.”
Jaxon leaned forward. “You do that, and it will be considered an act of treason.” He seemed almost gleeful at the thought.
“Enough, Jaxon,” the king said, rubbing his face before looking sternly at Alex. “But he’s right. If you go against my word on this, Alex, you risk damaging years of diplomatic negotiations. I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to act—not until we know more. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Alex looked down at her fisted hands and deliberately relaxed them. Yes, she understood what he was saying. But that wouldn’t be enough to stop her. None of them had seen the future where multitudes of mortals—human and otherwise—suffered and died at the hands of Aven’s forces. Alex would do everything she could to warn as many races as needed—treason be damned.
“I understand,” she said quietly, still looking down.
“Good,” the king said, just as quietly. He did, at least, sound remorseful, and Alex had to remind herself that he too was in a difficult position. The relationships between the various mortal races were a mystery to her, especially when it came to politics. But she was determined to continue with her own plans despite the consequences. She was doing the right thing—she was sure of it.
“I guess we’re done here,” Alex said. “If I hear anything else, who should I contact?”
“Commander, with your permission, I volunteer as a go-between for future communications,” Jeera said. When Nisha nodded her consent, the younger Warden turned back to Alex. “Do you have your ComTCD on you?”
Alex pulled it from her pocket and handed it over.
Jeera played around with some of the more complicated settings Alex had never experimented with and then passed it back.
“I’ve input my details using a secure network connection,” Jeera said. “No one will be able to monitor our communications, so feel free to holo-call me any time, day or night. I’ll always make time for you.”
Something in Jeera’s voice made Alex realise her offer wasn’t just to gather information—it was also to simply talk. Because of that, she gave the Warden a small smile and a quiet, “Thanks, Jeera.”
“We’ll also be sure to let you know if we find anything more on our end,” Queen Osmada said. She had remained mostly silent during the meeting, only offering a gentle word here or there, but her calming presence had still been very much appreciated by Alex.
“I’d be grateful for that, Your Majesty,” Alex said.
“I’ll show you back to the receiving room,” Jeera offered, standing.
Alex paused halfway out of her own chair when General Drock spoke up.
“Actually, Jeera, I’d like to have a word with the kid, so I’ll take her. She still has some grovelling to do.”
Alex turned to Jeera, eyes wide, but the Warden just flashed her a smile and shook her head slightly, denying Alex’s unspoken plea for help.
“No problem, General,” Jeera said. “She’s all yours.”
“Traitor,” Alex mumbled, causing Jeera’s smile to widen.
“I’ll speak with you soon, Alex,” William said, embracing her again. Before he let her go, he whispered in her ear, “Try not to worry. Aven is just one man—immortal or not. We’ll find a way to stop him.”
Alex swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing away the image of William and the rest of the Ronnigan family being strung up in Myrox cages outside of the Meyarin palace and left to die long, slow deaths.
“I’m sure you’re right,” she lied. “Good luck assembling your team—I hope you discover something useful.” And in time to save us all, she thought.
After bidding farewell to the king and queen, as well as Nisha and Tyson, Alex attempted to offer a gracious goodbye to the advisor. But Jaxon simply snubbed his nose up at her, so she rolled her eyes, waved to Jeera and William, and followed General Drock out of the room.
Her steps were reluctant as she kept half a pace behind him, waiting for the moment when he would say his piece. But he didn’t speak at all until they arrived in the abandoned receiving room, where he leaned in close and kept his voice hushed.
“You might have fooled them, but I’ve seen you in action, kid.”
Alex feigned offence. “I—”
“Don’t give me any of that,” he interrupted. “We both know you only came here as a courtesy. You’ve got your own plans and you’re going to see them through, no matter what.”
Wincing at his astuteness, Alex wasn’t quick enough to school her features.
Reading her guilt, Drock cursed—quietly but colourfully. “You’re a pain in my ass, kid.”
Alex crossed her arms. “What are you going to do, General? Lock me up as you’ve already threatened? Because that’s the only way you’ll keep me from doing what needs to be done.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he bit out.
Alex didn’t say anything, she just waited to see what would happen next.
With another quiet curse, and then a creative stream in quick succession, Drock reached into his black uniform and pulled out a pen-like stylus. He then latched his sword-calloused fingers around Alex’s hand, yanking her arm towards him with the underside facing up.
“What—”
“Quiet,” he ordered as he placed the nub of the stylus against the soft flesh of her wrist.
Alex hissed in pain when he started moving the tool along her skin and she tried to tug her hand back, but his grip was unyielding.
“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded in a shrill voice, tugging more forcibly but still unable to detach from his hold.
Drock’s piercing gaze flicked up to glare at her. “Shut it, kid. It’ll only hurt for a second.”
True enough, the pain started to abate until she only felt a faint throb. Looking down at her wrist, Alex noted with disbelieving eyes that the stylus was some kind of tattooing device and Drock was carving a sideways figure-of-eight into her skin—the eternity symbol.
“It might have been nice if you’d asked permission before permanently inking me,” Alex said through gritted teeth.
Drock didn’t respond. He just went back and forth over the symbol with the nub of the stylus, deepening the design with each pass. Unlike most tattoos, the ink was a white colour, barely noticeable even against her golden skin. She actually liked it enough that she might have chosen it for herself—if given the choice, which she was not.