Soren had barely crossed the threshold into the residence when Ryse’s hand closed on his arm.
It wasn’t a rough gesture, just insistent. The grip of soone who had earned the right to physically redirect his Emperor when necessary, and who knew Soren would allow it because they had been through far worse than awkward conversations.
"A word your majesty."
Soren glanced back at Eris, who was already being swept away by what looked like half the female staff. They fussed over her, leading her toward her chambers. She looked vaguely overwheld by the attention but was allowing it, which ant she was more exhausted than she would ever admit.
Good. She needed the rest.
He turned back to Ryse. "Walk with ."
They moved away from the main building, toward the command post where maps, reports, and all the logistics of managing an imperial procession lived... far enough from curious ears that they could speak freely.
Ryse didn’t waste ti.
"Your hair is longer."
Soren’s hand went to his hair reflexively, touching the strands that had grown past his shoulders during whatever had happened at the river. It was evidence of power accessed, of transformation triggered, of magic channeled beyond normal limits.
"I plan to cut it," he said.
Ryse’s expression didn’t change, but calculation flickered behind his eyes. Recognition.
"I’ve only seen his hair grow like that once. When he unlocked sothing he shouldn’t have been able to access. When his power went beyond what any ice-wielder should possess." He thought to himself.
But he didn’t ask. He wouldn’t. Whatever curiosity burned in him was outweighed by respect, by the understanding that so things the Emperor chose not to explain were better left unquestioned.
It ant sothing significant had happened. Sothing divine, probably, given the pattern he had observed before. That was enough information; the details could stay with Soren.
"Report," Soren said, redirecting to safer territory.
Ryse shifted into briefing mode imdiately. Professional. Efficient. The voice of soone who’d been doing this for years and could deliver critical information in under two minutes without missing relevant details.
"Procession intact. No losses. Everyone accounted for, including the maid who stowed away." A slight pause. "She’s been useful, actually. Kept morale up."
"Good."
"Nobles are restless. They’ve been waiting for days with no tiline. Complaints about accommodations, about the delay, about not knowing when we’d resu travel." His tone suggested he’d handled it but hadn’t enjoyed the experience.
It was expected. Nobles always complained when things didn’t go according to their preferred schedule.
"They’ll survive."
"Supplies are adequate for the week-long journey to the Frozen Court. Lord Whitlock has been generous with provisions. We’re well-stocked."
Soren nodded, making a ntal note to send appropriate thanks.
Ryse continued. "Security is the primary concern. Anakai activity has increased significantly along our planned route."
That got Soren’s full attention.
Just like Solmire had their fire-beasts, they also had ice-beasts. Native to Nevareth. Usually manageable, unless sothing stirred them up.
"Increased how?"
"Sightings have tripled in the past week." Ryse pulled out a map, marked with locations. "Drogar—the ice bears—tracks near the mountain passes. Fresh. Multiple individuals. A Vargra Wolf pack moving through territories they don’t usually occupy. Possible hybrid Stryvaals sighting near the Winter Plains border, though that’s unconfird."
He pointed to the marked areas.
Soren studied the map and saw imdiately what concerned his commander. The activity wasn’t random. The beasts were moving, responding to sothing that had shifted. Just like he predicted.
"When did this start?" he asked.
"About four days ago."
Four days. Right around when Eris had scread in that temple. When Pyronox had woken and announced to every creature with magical sensitivity that sothing fundantal had changed. The effects weren’t limited to Solmire’s borders. Magic didn’t respect human boundaries.
"Route adjustnts?" Soren asked.
"Already implented. We’re avoiding known danger zones. Staying to main roads where possible. Doubled the scout rotation."
"Good. Double them again. I want forward scouts at least ten miles ahead at all tis. Rear guard reinforced. Reports every four hours on Anakai movents within fifty miles of our position."
"Understood."
Ryse’s expression went carefully neutral. The kind of neutral that ant bad news delivered with professional detachnt.
"One of her people would have sent word via frost-hawk the mont we arrived." He paused.
Frost-hawks, the ssenger birds that thrived in cold that would kill normal ravens. White as fresh snow, fast as wind, capable of covering in two to three days what would take a rider a week. They were efficient, reliable, and annoyingly impossible to intercept without leaving obvious evidence.
Ryse chose his words carefully. "Her ssenger would have reported your absence. That you’d taken a detour.
She doesn’t know we’ve rejoined the procession yet," Soren observed.
"No, Your Majesty. But another ssage is being probably being prepared now. Should reach the Frozen Court in two days."
aning Vetra was currently operating on incomplete information. Probably imagining worst-case scenarios. Definitely planning how to handle whatever situation she thought was developing. She would be furious when she learned the full truth, would interpret the union as rebellion, as Soren making decisions without consulting her, as choosing a foreign bride to be over her carefully laid plans.
Ryse’s unease was visible now. Subtle, but there. The tension in his shoulders. The way his gaze wouldn’t quite et Soren’s. He was anticipating the confrontation that waited at the end of this journey..
Soren felt nothing. No anxiety. No concern. Just mild irritation that he’d have to deal with it.
"She’ll deal with it," he said, his tone flat and final.
Ryse blinked. "Your Majesty—"
"Vetra’s opinions on my choice of bride are irrelevant. I’ve made my decision. She can accept it or not. Either way, Eris will be accepted as the future Empress by everyone, including my stepmother."
"Logistics for departure. We leave at dawn. I want everything ready."
Ryse straightened.
"Double the scouts on our route," Soren continued, rapid-fire. "I want reports on every Anakai sighting within fifty miles. If sothing threatens this procession, I want to know about it before it becos a problem."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Eris’s quarters." Soren continued without pause. "They need to be perfect. Warm baths. Good food. Proper rest. If anything is insufficient, fix it imdiately."
"Already handled. Lord Whitlock—"
"I don’t care if it’s handled. I want it perfect." Each word was deliberate, weighted. "She’s been sleeping uncomfortably for four days while recovering from nearly dying. She deserves better than ’adequate.’"
Ryse’s expression did sothing complicated. Realization. Understanding. Maybe a hint of amusent he was smart enough to suppress before it beca visible.
"Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll personally ensure everything ets your standards."
"See that you do." Soren turned toward the door. "We leave at dawn. I want everyone ready. No delays. No excuses."
"Understood."
"Anything else?" Soren asked.
"Lord Venrick has been particularly vocal about the delay. Demanding explanations."
"He can demand all he wants. He’ll get an explanation when I decide to give him one."
"He’s threatened to file a formal complaint with the High Council."
"Tell him to go ahead. I’m sure they’ll be very interested in hearing why he thinks questioning my decisions is appropriate."
Ryse nodded at the emperor’s words. His expression that suggested he was having thoughts about all of this.
"Say it," Soren offered.
"Say what, Your Majesty?"
"Whatever you’re thinking. You have that look."
Ryse’s mouth twitched. It was almost a smile, but it was quickly suppressed.
"Just noting that your priorities have shifted." He said it diplomatically, carefully. "The queen’s comfort seems to rank above most other concerns."
"Your point?"
"No point. Just an observation." A pause. "You have it bad, Your Majesty."
Soren smiled. It wasn’t the diplomatic one he used in court, nor the cold one he used with enemies. It was the genuine one that appeared when soone said sothing true enough to be acknowledged.
"I know."
Ryse’s eyebrows rose, surprised he’d admitted it.
"Does she?"
"She’s pretending she doesn’t." Soren shrugged. "But she will eventually."
"And if Vetra tries to separate you?"
Soren’s expression went cold. The temperature in the room actually dropped. Frost ford on the windows—the kind of response that happened when his magic reacted to emotion before conscious thought could regulate it.
"Then Vetra will learn very quickly that I’m not the boy she raised anymore." His voice stayed level, pleasant even. "And that so battles aren’t worth fighting."
Ryse held his gaze for a long mont, then nodded once. Sharp. An acknowledgnt. He understood exactly what Soren ant and what lines had just been drawn.
"Understood, Your Majesty."
"Good." Soren turned back toward the door. "Now if you’ll excuse , I have a fire queen to check on."
"Of course." Ryse’s tone suggested he was suppressing comntary. "I’m sure checking on her comfort requires your personal attention."
"It does."
"And has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve barely let her out of your sight since returning."
"Purely professional concern."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
And Ryse?" Soren paused. "Thank you. For managing this while I was gone."
Sothing shifted in Ryse’s expression, softening slightly.
"Of course, Your Majesty."
Soren left before Ryse could add more observations that were entirely too accurate for his comfort.
But he heard him mutter as the door closed:
"We’re all dood."
Probably.
But if he was going to be dood, at least it would be entertaining.
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