Heirs of the Gods

Ch 36: Choice an illusion

THIS IS A POV CHANGE! JUST A WARNING SO NO ONE GETS CONFUSED.

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Briar Blackthorn was not allowed to participate in meetings often.

These periodical reunions her father held with the noblemen and courtiers were mostly off access to her. But given that she'd recently been highly involved in relief efforts for the victims of the attacks, an exception was made.

Looking around the large, circular table, it was quite obvious that her presence stuck out. The only other woman present was her mother, Queen Marigold.

Gidden, sitting on the right-hand side of her father, was looking bored and completely unfocused, curly head of hair propped up on his fist. Well, to her at least. To the common eye, it looked like Gidden was being the dutiful Prince and Commander, obediently taking notes, scribbling on a parchment with a long, tangerine coloured quill.

Briar knew him well enough to know that he was likely doodling and thinking about gods knew what. Probably swords and weaponry, or whatever it was soldiers thought about. Drinking songs? Strategy? Card games and ale?

"--And so, that concludes the financial statement debrief of the week. Moving on with the list..." her father said, glancing at his thick binder, "What is the situation with the bordering towns?" He looked expectantly at Gidden, who was looking at his paper with the glazed look of someone sleeping with their eyes open. Really, he only needed some drool drying on the side of his chin.

Briar sighed internally and struck out a leg, kicking him under the table. Gidden shook his head slightly and quickly composed himself.

"Yes, we've finally completed the move," he said, fortunately sounding serious and focused. "Zinnia was the last town evacuated, half the people have gone to Bacopa and the rest to Millet," he nodded towards Count Tara, a lord who had received many villagers in his land. "The entire red zone is now free, and we've also doubled the security."

Her father nodded, jotting something down on his journal. "Good, so now we only need to worry about the security around the east of the lands."

The east, Gerrathea.

"Speaking of which," Gidden began, folding his hands on the table. "I recently had dinner with King Callan."

At this, King Fraser raised his gingery brows, his mouth pulling down at the corners. "And why is that? I was not informed of this." Though his tone was mild, given that they were surrounded by curious courtiers and nobles, Briar knew well enough to recognise the mild accusation.

Gidden only tensed slightly. "I'm informing you now," he said calmly, though not without a smidgen of defensiveness. "It was a nice evening. I had a good talk with King Callan. He requested a meeting with you." He looked at their father intently, head inclined slightly.

Now, of all the people Briar knew, she could easily say that Gidden was the least calculating. He just didn't have a devious bone in his body. Gidden was exactly as he appeared, no tricks or secrets whatsoever. But that wasn't to say he wasn't intelligent, one didn't reach the position of High Commander for nothing. As it was, Gidden knew that raising this topic up in public was the best way to get their father to listen. He had to at least consider, it would've seemed unreasonable otherwise.

"Was this the request of King Callan or his niece?" said Lord Roan, an advisor and close aid to Lord Aster, who wasn't present at the moment. "I do recall the young lady frequenting the palace quite often," he said casually. "Might this request have to do with His Highness' close friendship with the Lady?"

Briar sucked in a small breath. By the looks of the other courtiers and nobles, Lord Roan's words had hit their mark. If his intentions had been to take seriousness away from Gidden's request, he'd certainly managed it. The small smirk touching his lips said so.