The Rising (The Rising #4) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,120

irreverent, something Cassius not only put up with, he was much that way himself.

And Jellan considered, if these men weren’t so pleasing to look upon, it would have been irritating.

Fortunately for them, they were pleasing to look upon.

This thought swept from his head as he entered the room, took in its occupants, and came to a swaying halt at experiencing at once all he surveyed.

For on the podium in the front, sitting in thrones side by side, were Cassius and Elena.

But also, to Cassius’ left, sat Mars and Silence.

To their left, sat True and Farah, though in between True and Silence sat a large, striking man with black hair that Jellan had never seen before.

And to Elena’s right, sat Aramus and Ha-Lah.

Through the people standing about the room, Jellan could just see Princess Serena seated at the step up to the podium, close to her sister’s feet.

Serena had one foot to the floor, leg bent, one foot to the dais, that leg bent as well, her forearm resting atop that knee, and her eyes, as well as the attention of all the others, was on the man standing on the floor before the thronal platform.

As he had their backs, Jellan couldn’t tell if he knew many of the people in the room, however he had been in that room before, and he was again stunned at the change of it with its carpets and pennants—and everywhere you looked—color.

However, as great a change as this was, it barely registered on him for Gallienus, in a tatty, loose, ill-fitting, and not all that clean outfit of matching pants and tunic of nondescript color was apparently in full bluster.

“Stop,” Cassius demanded of his father before Jellan had heard a word the ill-kempt king was saying. “You committed multiple acts of treason against your own realm.”

Jellan blinked rapidly.

“And naught you’re saying is giving me reason not to take your head,” Cassius finished.

Take his head?

By the gods.

Cassius turned his attention to someone else standing before him that Jellan could not see.

“Your castle is gone,” he stated. His gaze went to someone else Jellan couldn’t see. “Your manor is gone.” Another shift from Cassius. “And your keep. I’ll not have any universities or hospitals if things keep going at this rate. My peoples are in awe of the show of the dragons, but really, I tire of it. It is time to move on. But if we must, you’ve seen the list. The guards who were assisting you at the Bailey have been apprehended and now grace their own cells. We know the name of every lord who sat council in Dunlyn against me. The dragons will fly, but I’ll also be forced to send word to the executioner to sharpen his blade.”

“You have my capitulation,” one of the men Jellan could not see at the front called.

“That’s all well and good, Lord Jordy, but in the now you have no home, you have no militia, and you are but one of twenty-seven names on that list.” Cassius’s gaze swept the front of the assembly. “I want a surrender signed by all of you, as well as every man on that list, with every member of your armies denouncing their lords and swearing fealty to me, and then I will accept capitulation.”

“And after that we face Slán Bailey for life, and for our sons…what?” Another man from the front asked. “You’ve obliterated my home. Taken my land. I leave him nothing. That keep your dragons eradicated had been in my family for twelve generations.”

“Well, then I hope your son has acquired some skill, or does so in future, so he can feed himself,” Cassius replied.

“Is it that difficult to consider instituting your changes in a lengthier manner to allow all, gentry and laborer alike, to become used to one in order to be better prepared for the next?” another man asked.

“This is wise advice,” Cassius relented, to a feeling of not a small amount of relief sweeping from the front of the room.

Sadly for them, Cassius hadn’t finished speaking.

“The issue I have with it is twofold, for I have gentry who are not at odds with this and have offered coin to the crown to keep their holdings as well as extended all manner of employment to their vassals, for which they will now pay them a fair wage. They do understand that their lives will change, but they’re bloody fucking wealthy, couldn’t eat through the coin they have in five generations, unless they suffer grave