This is an ongoing companion piece to be read after completing the Snakesblood Saga. Because it takes place during the final chapter of the last book, it will be very full of spoilers. It’s also unedited first draft fluff… just for fun! Read at your own risk, and expect installments no closer together than once a month.
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Firal turned to embrace the white-robed Master mage with a smile. She’d found Sera both warm and amicable, and it seemed the feeling was mutual, for the woman returned her affections with a sparkle in her eyes.
“I never expected I’d see you here for something like this,” Firal said with a downward glance. “Are you here alone?”
“No little ones, if that’s what you mean. Stal is here somewhere.” Sera fluttered a hand overhead, as if her husband’s location didn’t matter. Or perhaps it was more an acknowledgement of how Stal would be pulled in a thousand directions. As the southern continent’s acting Archmage, he would be in high demand by those who thought they might earn his favor.
Firal released her and tempered her smile. “Oh, I had hoped to see the baby.”
Beside them, Princess Meliel cleared her throat.
Whatever delight Sera might have borne for seeing Firal and Rune and perhaps even Vicamros, she clearly held none for Meliel. She still smiled, but it was the cool expression demanded by propriety, devoid of any real warmth. “Good evening, Princess.”
Meliel raised a brow. “Good evening, mage.” The absence of title was a deliberate slight. “Did I hear you correctly? You are somehow involved in trade arrangements for the south?”
Ever the diplomat, Garam drew Sera closer before her temper could flare. “Princess Meliel, allow me to introduce my sister. Sera is a Master mage trained in Lore’s Grand College, matriarch of House Kaith, and wife of Archmage Stal of Umdal.”
A hint of interest curved the princess’s lips. “Is that so?”
Firal restrained a snort. Now she cared; now that she knew the person she was dealing with was somebody, and not just an ordinary mage. She glanced over her shoulder and Rune met her eye with a dry smile that said he found it just as distasteful.
“It is,” Sera replied breezily. “With our mages having full control over the permanent Gates, all trade that takes advantage of them must pass through our facilities. Therefore, Stal and I will have a hand in much of what comes to pass, as we will be in charge of setting safety regulations.”
Meliel’s eyes hardened. “I was under the impression that mages were not to be involved in political matters. After all, every civil war that has happened on this end of the world has been instigated by power-hungry mages.”
“I would consider that an oversimplification,” Sera said.
The princess sniffed. “Perhaps you should educate yourself more, in order to understand why my country might not wish to deal with mages for trade.”
“On the contrary, I would expect I know more about the matter than you.” Sera’s smile returned, but this time, it was cold as ice. “As a mage of Lore formerly in military service to Vicamros, I am a veteran of one of those wars.”
“As was I,” Rune put in. “You certainly had no concerns about my involvement in matters of trade.”
A deep, rosy shade darkened Meliel’s cheeks.
Firal almost felt bad for her. How many times would she find herself with her foot in her mouth?
“I realize things are done differently in the Westkings, as they are different here in the north,” Sera added, “but in the south our mages are responsible for ensuring the well-being of all citizens. And please do note that I said well-being. Safety and organization is our responsibility. Unless you mean to import or export goods that jeopardize the safety of the southern continent’s people, I fail to see how our involvement would be of any concern.”
Rune’s brow furrowed as he put on a look of worry convincing enough to fool anyone who didn’t know him as well as Firal. “I have heard of questionable goods gaining popularity in the Westkings,” he said slowly. “Rumors when I last visited there. I believe there was an incident with dangerous items being smuggled into Orrad, bypassing safety inspections. Were there updates to that situation, Princess? I’m sure you would know more about the situation than I would. I haven’t been back to the Westkings in several years.”
Meliel’s mouth worked a moment before she simply closed it.
“Well, no news is good news, I suppose,” Vicamros put in smoothly. He gave Garam a thump on the back and grinned as if he expected the retired captain to agree with him. “With fortune, your countries will be able to solve the issue without any further disruptions. Of course, if you wanted to negotiate for support from mages trained in the eastern side of the world, then…” He trailed off and spread a hand as if to invite the request he was sure would come.
“It sounds as if you’ll be busy. I’ll leave you to your negotiations.” Rune inclined his head toward Vicamros, almost a show of deference, and started to leave.
The king snagged him by the shoulder before he could retreat. “Nonsense. You’re part of my council, you belong here to negotiate.
Sera snorted softly and slid to Firal’s side to take her arm. “Then we shall leave the council to their business. A pleasure to meet you, Princess. I’m sure we will cross paths again.”
Firal resisted when Sera pulled, but Vicamros was already steering her husband away, and from the resignation in his step it seemed there would be no escape.
“They won’t take long,” Sera murmured conspiratorially. “They’ll frighten her into backing down, work out some temporary solutions, and be back to the stalemate where they’re sitting in no time.”
“Does this happen often?” Firal kept her voice low, though she couldn’t help a worried glance back. She didn’t want to leave her husband’s side; not so soon after what transpired in the garden. Frustration brimmed within her, but all she could do was sigh and hope it would diffuse some of the unpleasant emotions.
“Every few years. Almost regularly enough to plan by it.” Sera winked and her pace relaxed. “Ah, but this gives us a chance to speak. I hoped you would be here. I brought something for you.”
For her? Firal blinked twice. “I beg your pardon?” For all that she found she liked Sera, she certainly didn’t know her well enough to anticipate gifts—or offer them.
“Nothing substantial.” The Master mage beside her waved a hand as if to dismiss any expectations before they formed. “Just something small, one woman to another. Believe me, I understand.” She drew a small box from one of the hidden pockets of her white mage’s robes and held it out for Firal to take as they strolled across the ballroom.
Firal took it and jostled the lid free. Inside, orderly rows of rich orange candies sat cradled by bits of waxed paper. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled, long and slow. “Are these… yam?”
“For fertility,” Sera said, mindful not to be overheard.
For a moment, Firal did not know what to say.
Sera went on so she wouldn’t have to say anything at all. “A large family was always my dream and Stal and I have been blessed to have so many children, but it’s not always as easy as we may wish. I apologize if it seems forward, or perhaps an overstep, but the new Archmage of Lore mentioned your struggle in passing and… well, magic cannot fix everything, but sometimes the goodness of the earth can help where magic cannot.”
The gesture was forward. And it was so genuine and thoughtful that it made Firal’s eyes sting. “It’s not an overstep. Thank you.” Even as a queen, she had been challenged in her desire to see her family grow. She had one child, after all; to nobles, one child was enough.
“It’s my pleasure to help.” A sardonic smile twisted the corners of Sera’s mouth and she looked straight ahead. “Not everyone understands the things we want. The callings we are given. Especially as mages. We’re expected to put family aside, to pursue power with all we have, but what if power is not the longing of our hearts? Just because the things we desire are ordinary does not mean they are not worthwhile.”
A refreshing perspective, to be sure. As far back as Firal could remember, magelings who sought marriage and family instead of permanent mage stations had been looked down upon. “Thank you,” she said, though it meant she repeated herself. She didn’t know what else to say, but the gesture deserved something earnest. She swallowed and made herself speak. “Although I don’t know that such a thing is the biggest concern yet. I don’t know if that’s what our future will hold. If I am to be honest, I’m not sure we have a future at all.”
Sera stopped and turned toward her, face scrunched with puzzlement. “What do you mean?”
Slowly, Firal replaced the box’s lid. “I’m not entirely certain he still wishes for that. For… me.”
For a long time, all Sera did was stare. Then, at last, she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sputtering laugh. “Oh, darling, you have nothing to worry about there.”
A crinkle formed between Firal’s brows. How could she sound so confident? “I don’t see what’s so funny.”
Sera swept a thumb across her eyelid and grinned wide. “Ah, forgive me. I know. I know you don’t. It’s because you haven’t been here, listening to the way he speaks of you when you’re gone. Most women in the Triad could only dream of a man who speaks of them so romantically.”
Romantic? Rune? That was hardly the man Firal knew. “You must be mistaken.”
“Certainly not. I’ve heard him myself, waxing on about the way you illuminate his life and everything is shadowed without you.” The statement came with a grand flourish, and Sera wiped her mouth as if to catch a giggle before it could escape.
“Well that’s not the way he acts,” Firal protested. “Everything he does now is so cold and calculated.”
“Of course it is,” Sera agreed.
The implication she’d missed something left Firal exasperated. “Well, why?”
“Because,” the Master mage said, her tone sweet and soothing. “You’re here.”
As if she could be anywhere else. “And that means?”
Sera’s smile softened and she touched Firal’s arm. “He has so much more to lose.”