Chapter 18
“I have to negotiate alone,” Eliza said, as they entered the royal palace where the negotiations would take place.
“I wouldn't recommend that,” Nathaniel said. “If you do, we cannot protect you if…”
“There is no way to hold negotiations with a witch escort that will go well. You are to be weapons outside the door,” Eliza said, her jaw set. She had the crown on her head, her royal jewels shining. She struck an imposing figure, not showing a sign of the strain that Nathaniel knew that she felt. “Can you feel me?”
“Yes,” Nathaniel said as he looked around. “There are a thousand things working to your disadvantage. Their guards…”
“I know,” Eliza said. “But this is the way life is. You should know, though.” She squeezed his hand. “Should something happen to me…or to you…Sienna will have a safe haven on Jeffro, always. I've made sure of it.”
“What do you mean?” Nathaniel asked, confused.
“There is a room in the palace that will be permanently designated by her, until the end of her life. She is a citizen of Jeffro and I have elevated her to royal status, ensuring no other royal can take it away from her.”
“Royal?” Nathaniel said and Eliza let out her first first smile all day.
“It's a formality, but she is a Baroness on Jeffro as of three hours ago.``
“Well,” Nathaniel said, trying to look on the bright side. “She'll like that, thank you. Although I may not tell her, as it will go to her head.”
“Mm,” Eliza said, as the others approached. Her guards and Desmond had swept the perimeter on their own, trying make sure that there was no obvious threat. The palace guards made no move to stop them, which made Nathaniel nervous. They were insulting their security, by doing their own sweep and yet no one seemed to care. Did they know something that Nathaniel didn't?
Eliza wants us to stay outside Nathaniel reached to Desmond, who raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He knew the risks in that, but he also knew that diplomacy sometimes meant a one on one interaction.
“You may enter,” one of the guards said, to Eliza, pulling open the door. Nathaniel reached out to her, touching her wrist to lock onto her mind. She didn't react, but he felt her heart rate surge as she entered.
Once the door was closed, Nathaniel’s heart rate rose in fear.
There is much hostility already, Desmond alerted him, as if the air wasn't thick with it. I do not doubt her skill, but I worry that this might be a trap.
If it is, it's well-hidden, Nathaniel answered, trying not to betray any emotion on his face. His mind kept wandering back to the ship, reaching out to see if there was anything left of Sienna's bond he could feel.
“Nathaniel.” Desmond surprised him by speaking out loud. “You are not alert.”
“Lack of sleep,” Nathaniel answered, and then caught Desmond's look. “Perhaps a little more.”
“Can you do this?” Desmond repeated. “I know the situation you are in.”
Nathaniel snorted.
“It explains why they tell us not to form attachments, doesn't it?”
“Just because the Jurors dictate it does not make it easy,” Desmond answered. “They implement many different things in theory rather than in practice, and they are not without fault themselves.”
“Of course, they aren't,” Nathaniel answered. “But it makes a place on the Jurors attractive. Sitting in a room, laying down the law without having to experience it on the field.”
Desmond nudged him. “Is that why you want to fulfill such a lifelong dream?”
“No,” Nathaniel answered. “I thought I would make a good addition to the Jurors one day, with such experience. And if I ever do make it there, I will remember moments like this, when my mind is in two places.”
“Mm,” Desmond answered, his eyes clouding for a moment. Nathaniel knew that look, and tensed.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, stay focused,” Desmond said, looking away but Nathaniel knew something was wrong. Desmond had years of experience on him. He knew that the older Maestro could sense things he couldn't. Desmond's signature was hiding his emotions, staying calm in the face of danger. He had so much skill, so much trust in magic, even if he walked a grey line about the rules.
“Don't say that,” Nathaniel snapped. “I know that something is wrong, you need to tell me.”
“It's not relevant to this quest,” Desmond answered. “If they attack Jeffro, thousands of lives will be lost.”
“If it's not relevant to…” Nathaniel's heart sank. “Sienna.”
“Nathaniel.” Desmond grabbed his wrist, meeting his eyes. “Stay.”
“I—” Nathaniel fought against his grip. They locked gazes, not wanting to say words that could never be taken back. And it was in that moment that there was a gun shot from the throne too, followed by another and another.
Desmond let go of Nathaniel's wrist, and they stormed the door. The guards didn't even have time to register the sound before the witches threw them aside.
The heavy door took a few seconds to pull open, and Nathaniel cursed the fact that he only had one good hand. It was only with Desmond's help that they could squeeze inside.
Inside, the King, a beige-colored, wide-eyed alien, stood on his throne stairs, a laser gun in his hand.
The Queen of Jeffro lay on the floor, blood pooling.
“NO!” Nathaniel didn't think, rage and panic filling him. He blasted magic forward, and the King fell to the ground in half a second, unmistakably dead.
It was an error that he knew he would answer for, for years. Killing a monarch under any circumstances, a monarch put in place by birth, was the ultimate disrespect of nature.
Even Nathaniel froze in shock, in disbelief of his kneejerk reaction. He knew what he had done, but his mind flashed back to the moment before.
No witch disrespected a birthright, and yet he had done it without thought, so distracted and so panicked.
“I'm all right,” Eliza said, as he reached her. He could see right away that the wound was on her arm, and while it had knocked her over, it wasn't fatal unless she bled out. He ripped a shred off his robe, tying it off right away. The blood stopped seeping, and he sat back, covered in sweat and shaking in shock.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, you are.”
“You killed our King,” the Captain of the guards said, in shock, looking to Nathaniel. “You killed our King.”
“We are witches of the Order,” Desmond spoke, his hand up. “You cannot prosecute us for crimes, we are above the laws of each planet.”
For a moment, he thought they would respect the fact that witches were governed and only answered to their Jurors, who were known for being both fair and ruthless. They would be prosecution, but not in the local courts.
And the Captain raised his weapon and Desmond knew that he wouldn't.
With only one hand to shoot magic and the other one throbbing from even a simple wound tie off, Nathaniel had to rely on Desmond more than he was used to, streaming his magic rather than using his own.
In less than a minute, every guard who had attacked was dead, magic destroying their life-force. Silence fell over the room as fast as noise had taken it, and all they could hear was the beating of their own hearts, their own ragged breath.
“I have to take the planet,” Eliza said, into the echoing room. “I have to take control or they will blow Jeffro to Kingdom Come.”
“Eliza...” Desmond panted. “Your highness. You are asking us to stage a usurpery.”
“And if we don't, Jeffro will be in oblivion by this afternoon,” Eliza gripped her arm as she rose. “Terence, Alfred,” she snapped at the guards closest to her. “Call for re-enforcement. Lock the family in their bedroom, radio for our allies. This planet will be ours by sunset.”
“Eliza.” Nathaniel yanked on her arm, meeting her blue eyes frantically. “Think about what you are doing, please. This will mean war.”
“No, it won't, because I will win,” she said, her chin high. “This is to protect Jeffro. It's the only way. Will you help me?”
“We can't—” he said.
“Then you shouldn't have killed the King,” Eliza's tongue was harsh. “We will take the planet and we will do it now.”
“Creator,” Nathaniel felt the blood rush to his head. His body crumbled under the pressure. This had never happened before, and certainty never so quickly. Nathaniel was a warrior, with unlimited energy and endurance
But he had made a mistake, a mistake that may threaten thousands of lives, and end his career as a witch, threatening thousand more. Because he was worried about his Tiro, because he was worried about his lover.
“I need your help,” Eliza begged.
“We will protect you, highness,” Desmond said from behind. “You are monarch chosen by nature, and we will not fail you.”
“Desmond, what do you feel with Sienna?” Nathaniel demanded. “Please, please, tell me she is still there.”
“She is,” Desmond said. “We have to fight now.”
It was all Nathaniel needed to hear, although he desperately wanted to know what happened. He felt like he was walking underwater, his movements forced and his throat a sold lump of fear.
“We will follow you, your highness” he repeated to Eliza, who began to move toward the door.
What have I done? Nathaniel's thoughts echoed strongly in Desmond's head, but the older Maestro couldn't answer. When they got aback to the Jurors, it seemed both of them would be walking a path of fire.
Nathaniel barely remembered the next three hours. He knew that Eliza called in every favor and re-enforcement she had, and she sank onto the throne of Natrine before the sun had even hit the highest in the sky. She conquered the planet, threatened to take the lives of the family without a second thought, and barely glanced at the second throne, meant for a partner, a King if she ever desired.
She was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time, and Nathaniel worried that this was only the first taste of the power that was to come. Would she become addicted to expanding her empire?
Was this his fault, his move that made her inch forward on the path to universal domination? Or had she planned it all along?
It became clear that she would hold the planet by the second day. The messages coming in were only those of congratulations. No one dared attack the Jeffro powerhouse, for they knew what it could do. To the rest of the galaxy, it appeared that they didn't even try.
Only those in the throne room knew the price that was going to be paid.
By the third day, Nathaniel knew they had to go. As much as he wanted to be by Eliza's side, it was time to answer for the crimes that they had committed
“I am the ruler of this planet,” she said. “And I declare that you have committed no crime.”
He gave her a sad smile.
“But we answer to a higher judge, your highness.”
Eliza's voice dropped.
“I know you must go,” she said. “But remember what I said. There is always a place.”
He gave her another sad smile.
“Do you think, my love, that this is the end for me? That I will go back and they will outcast me and I will return to you, happily ever after?”
“It's a dream,” she said. “A blessing in disguise. But I know that your future is going to change upon your return to the Jurors, who have no right to judge you for movements of the heart.”
“I'm a witch,” Nathaniel said. “I'm not supposed to have a heart.”
“But you do, my love,” she put a hand to his face. “You do.”