Heirs of the Gods

Ch 26.2: A bedlam in the palace

"Great was his might, greater was his prowess with the mighty sword. Rhyn, son of Arwel the second, was a seasoned warrior. Proficient with a sword and battleaxe and tempered by the need to defeat the lurking evils, he was the first to head into battle against the Wrachyd next to a group of like-minded fae. Eager to defeat the great evils but astute, his want of triumph was not blinded to the evident fact–the Wrachyd's powers were dark and insidious. Slowly but surely, they grew like Dwarf mistletoe, spreading their noxious power through the forest—"

Ella's shin connected with a solid form, a pang of pain bolting up her leg. She yelped and flailed indignantly as her papers scattered everywhere. She teetered on unsteady legs before a hand shot forward and gripped her waist, stabilising her.

"Good morning to you too, dearest," Aedion's amused voice sounded as Ella gripped his bicep and steadied herself. "I know I was absent for training today and you've missed me terribly, but there's no need to throw yourself at me. We must keep up appearances, after all. People will talk."

Ella let go of his arm and fixed him with a sour look, trying to compose herself to the best of her ability after so ungracefully knocking into one of the many marble statues lining the hallways. "I'd advise you to do the same, dearest," she deadpanned, lifting a brow at the hand he still braced on her waist. "I know you're an incorrigible dog, but do try to control yourself. This affair is very hush-hush, after all."

Aedion grinned impishly and dropped his hand. "What can I say, I'm a red-blooded man, darling. I simply can't help myself."

Ella rolled her eyes and kneeled to pick up her papers. Aedion followed suit, collecting the pages dispersed over the checkered mosaic of the hallway.

"So that's what had you kissing statues." He eyed the book in her hand, the one she'd managed to hold onto before toppling over, due to being nose-deep in her reading.
The History of the Heirs of the Gods.

"The original tome, too," Aedion mused, plucking it from her hands and running a dark finger over the worn leather cover. "Spoiled little thing you are, Callan dotes on you far too much." Still, his lips curved into a smile.

"Green isn't your colour," Ella quipped back, grabbing the pages Aedion had collected and arranging them into neat order. "Here," she proffered the stack to Aedion. "I was just going to look for you. These are the financial statements treasurer Gwion asked you to look over, I've already annotated the suggestions you advised." She tapped the letter on top of the pile, "And this is the drafted response for Lord Conwy, you should revise it and let me know if I need to add any final details."

"This is fine." Aedion scanned the letter as they walked through the winding, maze-like halls of the castle. The stack of papers was cradled in his arm, as well as the book. "Should we delve deeper into this bill he's proposing? Honestly," he tutted, shaking his head as his eyes kept fixed on the paper. "I don't know why the daft coot keeps insisting. The Chamber of Lords is not going to meet to discuss laws anytime soon with all this going on, and he's still adamant about promoting this ridiculous bill--"

Ella gripped Aedion's tunic and steered him out of the way of an imposing marble statue of a horse. "Desperate to kiss statues, Lord High Chancellor?"

He looked up and scowled at the statue briefly before offering her a crooked grin. "Jealous, princess? It would be terribly unprofessional of us, but for you? I'm willing to risk it."

Ella rolled her eyes. "Well, hope is the poor man's bread." She plucked the book out of his hands. "And you might as well be running a bakery." She bit back a grin at his narrowed eyes and took some of the papers off him as well, to even his load.