Page 96 of The Trials of Ophelia
She slid her hand into mine to pull herself up. As I went to release her, she tugged me a step closer, the hesitancy of a moment ago gone. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your training, Warrior Prince.” Her eyes searched mine before stepping back and sauntering away toward the group.
I waited for the frustration to rattle the bars in my chest at the name, but it never came.
“I don’t understand why we’re stopping here,” I complained as Esmond led Mila and me through Pthole the next day.
The Bodymelder capital was much like the villages sprinkled throughout their territory, but with grander buildings instead of small cottages. They towered above us, ivy and wisteria crawling over the facades. The foundation of every building was a slate gray but the flora and burnished orange trees overflowing the nearby Gennium Forest brought the city to life.
“We can’t just walk into Firebird’s Field,” Esmond explained. “It’s a historic site, and there’s a level of clearance needed. Besides, I need to meet with Brigiet while we’re here about the missive we sent her before leaving camp.”
“What do you mean clearance?” I paused. “How is Ophelia going to get in there?”
Esmond gestured for me to keep following, and we emerged into the city center, marked by a two-story-tall golden statue in a bubbling fountain where children tossed coins. Ptholenix, I guessed, but without his wings.
I was studying the statue as Esmond explained, “She is going to give us approval, and then I’m going to find the person who happens to have direct access to the site.”
Following his voice, I turned. Brigiet, the Bodymelder Chancellor, came charging down the stairs of a building that reminded me of a reverent mausoleum more than anything, with its plain pillared architecture and flat rectangular shape. Most of the structures were simple in the city, I realized. All plain, aside from the plants crawling over them.
I didn’t get to respond to Esmond, barely got to greet the chancellor. She wasted no time, leading us into an office within the building that held little more than packed bookshelves, an orderly desk, and an abundance of plants.
“Where was the queen last spotted?” she asked.
“First north past the capital, then they looped southeast again,” Mila answered. “We have a team of spies trailing them.”
Brigiet nodded, the braids in the front of her wine-red hair swaying. She directed her next words at Esmond. “She is kept out of the capital at all costs.”
“Yes, Chancellor,” he responded. His hands were folded behind his back, spine and shoulders straight.
“We pull from the infirmaries and station guards around the borders.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ve already written to the village heads and instructed them to do the same. Harvest will be slower until the threat is resolved. We may be neutral, but she shouldn’t have been here without my knowledge.” Brigiet sat in the chair behind her desk, but she did not relax. Her hands folded atop the surface, fingers absently brushing over the K L P tattoo on her knuckles the only sign of discomfort. “And what will you two do?”
I glanced at Mila, deferring to my superior, and she raised her brows at Esmond. He cleared his throat. “They need access to Firebird’s Field.”
Briefly, he explained the updates to the emblem hunt and why he believed that site to be important. He told her Ophelia would be arriving there and would hopefully find the token quickly so we could return to the mountains.
“It should guarantee Kakias vacates Bodymelder Territory, too,” Mila added when Esmond was done.
I couldn’t make out Brigiet’s opinion. Whether she cared about the Angel emblems at all or simply wanted to safeguard her land.
It didn’t matter, though. As long as we all got what we needed from this arrangement. A queen one step closer to death and another piece of this Angelcurse in our hands.
“Whatever you need is yours,” Brigiet said. She turned to Esmond. “Gatrielle is on your assignment but will be back this evening. He can escort you all to Firebird’s Field as soon as Ophelia arrives.”
I assumed that was the contact Esmond had mentioned based on the fact that the information didn’t faze him.
Outside, sun broke through the clouds, streaming through the windows. It ignited the shades of pine, sage, and jade of the plants dotting the room, their leaves suddenly seeming to breathe in. Brigiet did with them.
“Now, if you two don’t mind,” she said to Mila and me, “I’d like an update from my apprentice.”
“Of course,” Mila said, with a small nod. Esmond remained at attention until we closed the door behind us.
Before we descended the staircase back into the atrium, I pulled Mila into an empty room. She looked at me, brows raised.
“Isn’t there something we can do now?” There was a restlessness in my chest, one that was familiar and new all at once. I thought it resembled how I’d felt when I’d first uncovered Lucidius’s plan, back before signing the treaty—resembled the desire to act I’d had then, the one that had been returning to me the longer I spent at the war camp. It ran down my spine and extended through my limbs.
Mila gently pulled her arm from my grip. I hadn’t realized I’d still been holding it, that my hand slid down to rest above her ivy cuffs. “Everyone needs to be aligned on this plan—on all plans if we’re going to make it out of this war in one piece.” Her eyes searched my face, like she was trying to unpack something within me. “We wait. No more questioning orders. That’s a command from your general.”
