AYLETH
As the most powerful nation on the continent, the Zenithran royal party was the last to enter the amphitheater. The entire structure shook with the roars of the people as the Cryer announced them in the amphitheater, then stepped forward to allow Ayleth to follow her parents inside. The noise was so loud her ribs vibrated as they all walked to the center where a long table had been erected facing the crowds, and each Ruler and their heir or Regent, stood in a line behind it, awaiting their turn to be called forward to sign.
They were all there, but Ayleth found Trystan first—as tall and large as he was, and his hair so light, he stood out like a beacon in the line of more frail royals from the neighboring kingdoms.
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At first, she couldn’t find Etan or his parents in the line, and Ayleth’s stomach twisted in fear. But then, scanning all the way down, she finally found them—right at the end, in the place of least power and honor—standing blank-faced and cold, staring at the crowds warily. Ayleth knew the Zenithrans likely had not been kind in their reception of the Summitran rulers.
While her parents backs were turned, she kept her eyes on Etan—frowning at how pale he looked, and the dark circles under his eyes that were evident even from this distance.
He looked ill. Had someone tried to poison him?
Falek was at her back—only he and two other guards had been allowed to follow the royals into the amphitheater, though there were guards and soldiers lining the entire center, and a thin veil of magic rose from the base of the amphitheater walls to high in the sky, blocking any assassins that might have a mind to attack any of the royals while they stood in the center of this space surrounded by so many people.
Ayleth’s heart trilled. This was it. They were finally here! The signing was about to happen that would bring peace between her nation and Etan’s, and then finally, finally, in a few hours, they would publicly acknowledge their love.
She wanted to dance.
"Settle, Ayleth, remember your people are watching," her mother murmured with a warning glance over her shoulder as they passed the other royals on their way to the center of the line.
Wrenching her eyes from Etan, Ayleth took a deep breath and nodded, raising her hand to the crowd, smiling when she heard her name called. It did not matter. It was happening. Finally.
They were almost done waiting. Ayleth’s heart sang as her parents took their place and she found her position behind them. The people roared as the Cryer raised his hands and waited to announce the signing.
*****
ETAN
"Are you certain you are well, son?" his mother asked as quietly as she could below the level of the crowd, roaring for the Zenithran King and Queen—and Princess—who had just entered the amphitheater.
"I am tired, mother. I didn’t sleep well. Tension for the signing. All will be well," he said through his teeth.
His mother nodded, but glanced at him over her shoulder, then caught eyes with his father and something passed between them.
Etan ground his teeth. They needed to get this signing done! He needed to ensure the safety of his parents and their people first. Then he had to get out of this godforsaken Kingdom and work on returning Ayleth to his side safely.
He felt eyes on him and almost turned. But he couldn’t be sure if it was Ayleth, or Sarya, and if it was the dark-haired woman, he didn’t think he had the strength not to show his pain. So he kept his head down, staring at the dirt in front of him, praying.
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"Ladies, Gentlemen, the people of Zenithra and our brother kingdoms, please!" The Cryer’s voice, amplified by magic, boomed around the amphitheater, over the noise of the crowd. "Until we announce, we cannot sign! Please, take your seats and await your Rulers!"
It took another minute, but the crowd settled, then the Cryer—a disgustingly arrogant older man—
turned his back to the royals and preened for the crowd.
"You are here as solemn witnesses to a once-in-a-century event. The Peace Accord will draw the Kingdoms of the Continent together in unity and harmony, ushering in the age of peace and prosperity for all!"
The crowd roared again, and Etan was buffeted by their applause and cheers, feet thumping on the elevated stands until he wondered if they might give way. But the Cryer only waited for a long moment, smiling, then raised his hands for silence again.
"The treaty will be signed by the ruler or rulers of each Kingdom, along with their heir or regent in the event of their untimely death during the next ten years. In this way, we assure the succession of peace, no matter who sits upon each throne!
"Join me in a prayer to the Goddess and the Pantheon. Let us ask their blessing on our hearts for peace, and for the prosperity we can anticipate in its wake!"
As the man intoned a formal and flowery prayer, Etan lifted his eyes to the near-cloudless sky above and pleaded with the Father of Lights not to allow anything to stand in the way of the signing. Not to allow any last-minute defeat. To keep his family and his people safe, and to help him find his way back to his wife—safe and alive and vital, and never having forgotten his love for her.
He was earnest and sincere, and so consumed with pleading for Ayleth’s safety, at first he didn’t notice when the Cryer finished his prayer and began calling the royals forward to sign.
He startled and leaped forward a step when he heard the words, "...Rulers of Summitras, and their Heir."
There was only a smattering of applause as he and his parents walked solemnly forward to accept the quills they would use to sign the massive document that displayed the generations and historic names for centuries earlier.
It was a surprise to Etan how quickly they gave the vows—his skin crawling as the magic used to amplify their voices shifted around him, bearing his words to the crowd.
"...will uphold the treaty at pain of my own death. I seek peace. I seek harmony. I seek the unity of all Kingdoms for this season of peace and vow to stand in defense of it, until its fulfilment, a decade from now..."
A decade.
He would be thirty-four. His father would be approaching sixty. He and Ayleth would likely have their own children by then.
Would there be true peace between Summitras and Zenithra?
He half expected some kind of obstacle, a last-minute interruption or accusation to stop them signing. But without any delay, his father was invited to sign first, the Cryer watching over them, his lips twisted in distaste, though the servants that assisted them were efficient and professional. His mother dipped her quill in the provided ink, then stepped back to allow Etan his turn.
And as he scrawled his name, his heart ached and swelled, and he pleaded with the Father of Lights to bring them all through this safely. Google search 𝙛𝒓𝙚e𝚠𝐞𝚋𝙣𝚘𝐯𝗲𝚕. c𝚘𝓶
*****
Looking for another great fantasy romance read? Try my other book: THE CHOICE: My King or My Knight?
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