power. Perhaps there’s something I can make, or do, like your keystone, that would tether Midscape’s seasons to the Natural World’s without a Human Queen. Hmm?”
He says nothing as his expression hardens once more into something passive and unreadable.
“All I’m saying is…give me a chance—a real chance,” I beg. “What do we have to lose?”
“Everything, if we’re not careful.” There’s not a hint of levity in his voice.
“Then help me. My power, your knowledge, we can do this together if you let us.”
Eldas’s lips press firmly into a line. I search the deep waters of his eyes—search for something human. I have no reason to think he’d help me. But I have to at least make an attempt. I owe Capton that much.
“Why is this so important to you?” he asks, finally. There’s a trace of hurt. It’s the shadow of something lurking in the deeper currents of his personality. I think about what Rinni said—about him secluding himself. “Help me understand.”
Here’s hoping he listens.
“I had a life. You’re right, I’m not like all the other queens. I wasn’t groomed for you, for any of this. I had my own dreams and plans. I had people who depended on me and I swore to protect and serve them as best I could. They gave their precious little coin for my education and I gave my skills, my years. Capton needs me just as much as Midscape does; I’m the only herbalist they have.
“So maybe that’s why none of those other queens dared to question if there was a way out. They didn’t have any expectations to be anything other than what they were because they were identified as queens young enough that being the queen was their dream. But I’m not them. I am questioning for myself and every other young woman who comes after me.”
The king looks between me and the stone, as if he’s choosing either me or the world he’s always known. I don’t even bother holding my breath. I know what he’ll pick and it’s not my wild idea.
And then…
“All right,” he says.
“What?” I gasp.
“I agree to let you pursue this.”
“Truly?” I round over to his side. “You mean it genuinely? No more agreeing to teach me and then acting like a right ass?”
He cringes but nods. There’s an urge to take his hand and squeeze it, almost like I would do to a friend. But I quench the notion before my body can act on it.
“There are terms to this deal.” He regards me warily.
“Of course there are.” Still, this is progress. “What are they?”
“The first is that you must keep me appraised of your work. You might not care about Midscape’s fate, but I am its sworn warden.”
“I never said I didn’t care—”
“I will not have you accidentally unraveling the fabric of my world,” he finishes, completely ignoring my objection.
“Fine, that’s fair.” Not like I wanted to do any unraveling.
“Furthermore—”
“Oh, there’s more, shocking.” I fold my arms. Is that the ghost of a smirk I see on his lips? I’m rewarded once more with a twinge of amusement, bolder than the last. If he keeps giving me sly smiles and shimmering eyes I’m going to think he’s beginning to like a determined and slightly bold Luella.
“Furthermore,” he continues. “You will not tell anyone else of this plot. I cannot and will not deal with the rumors of the woman who is supposed to rule at my side trying to escape me like I am too weak to win her over. I’ve already had my rule cast in enough shame by how long it took to find you.”
The wolf seems restless with Eldas’s agitation. He paces between us and I hold my hand out. He quickly trots over and I scratch between his ears until he settles.
“Eldas, I never meant for you to endure hardship because of me.”
“Spare me your fake pity.” Anger flashes in his eyes, though it’s not directed at me. I can tell that much.
“It isn’t fake,” I fire back. “I’m sorry. Truly.”
My sympathy stuns him. He staggers, taking so long to compose himself that I worry I’ve broken him.
“I…”
“You?” I encourage.
“I’m sorry as well, for what you’ve endured.”
A smile splits my lips. “Was that so hard?”
Eldas grimaces. “You really can be annoyingly insistent, you know that?”
“I’ve been told, usually by my patients.” I can’t help but laugh. “Though I prefer calling myself tenacious.” He snorts and, for a brief second, something I’d dare call peace flows between us. I’m hesitant to