MARIN DRASWIST IS CLOSE. Her goal has never been within her reach. The island is already divided into two warring sides, and Cardovia, the organization she serves, grows more powerful by the second with her help. But when a war against an extinct bu...
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2412 Iclis 4, Velpa
Edgerift was no more than a sparkling city of splendor when Marin stepped out of a portal of shadow. She scrunched her nose, the stale prickling of the shadows she bent kissing her skin still. Ever since she mastered the skill, the Heiress seemed eager to send Marin off to random places, usually with even more random tasks.
This particular job involved getting the Imperial power under Cardovia's thumb, and to do that, Marin would have to go straight to the High Queen, Nevrin Sylkrana. The correspondence she had with the Heiress could be nothing more than small talk.
When Marin stepped into the tent yesterday, the Heiress was buried under another pile of paperwork. It's all she had been doing every time an audience commences.
"Do you know what happens when we succeed in turning those from the rut?" the Heiress smacked her lips, if not in thought, then in malice.
Marin shook her head, words dying at the base of her throat. The Heiress didn't take it as an offense. If there was anything the vain woman loved, it was giving lectures and making it seem she was the smartest person in the room. A complex, maybe, but Marin wasn't there to play advocate or counselor.
"Those high up will be bound to follow," the Heiress answered her own question with a self-satisfied smirk. Marin's job was to be there and applaud, if not with her hands, then with her mind and form. "But that only holds when we assume this behemoth of a system functions in tiers. In levels."
"Then, is the system in Lanteglos not to that standard?" Marin ventured.
The Heiress rolled her shoulders. "In a way," she quipped. "The Unseelie Court may have been the first tier, but even if they turned, the higher tiers would not. Do you know why?"
Marin didn't need to get the correct answer in this case, because even if she did, the Heiress would just make it seem like it's wrong and the woman's theories were the correct choice. "Because the Imperial power operates on three different spheres, each with their own tiers?"
"Correct," the Heiress replied with an approving nod. She must have read Marin's sentiment through some minor hint in her toes or something. This woman never failed to surprise anyone she talked to. "What I want you to do now is to break each sphere. Do that, and we will hold the entire Junction City."
"What about the other territories?" Marin dared to blurt. "The Sovereign will not stand by while we strike our loot in Lanteglos. We need to be launching efforts side-by-side."
The Heiress' eyes narrowed. It was a signal. Marin overstepped her bounds.
Marin scrambled back and ducked her head at the woman. "I'm sorry, Peredeira," she said. "I spoke out of turn."
"Hmm," the Heiress quipped with a light nod. "And I suppose you can pronounce my Ancient name now?"
Marin's head snapped up, another apology thick in her tongue. She didn't mean for that to come out, for it to travel to the only person who shouldn't know of it. "I—"
