“I just don’t get how any Primal could stand with him before and continue to do so now that there is a true Primal of Life.” I shook my head, frustration growing because I did understand how on some level. “But they don’t know me. However, they do know what Kolis is capable of.”

He nodded as my gaze fell to the golden swirl on his left hand. Something occurred to me. “We won’t rule as Kolis has. Obviously. But when your father ruled, did any of the other Primals take part in the decisions that were made?”

“As far as I know, mostly not,” he answered.

“And this included decisions involving other Courts? And the mortal realm?”

“I believe so.” Curiosity filled his expression. “Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know. I’m just thinking. Like, I know things will be different with you being King instead of Consort, but why shouldn’t all the Primals be involved in making major decisions?” I said. “Like officially involved.”

Ash’s head cocked. “Why would you want that?”

“Because no two people, Primal or mortal, should decide everything, especially when it comes to things they have no experience with and others do,” I pointed out. “Power should be shared. That’s what the Ancients did, right? The Ancients shared their power by creating the Primals.”

“Yes,” he said. “Inevitably, it didn’t stop what was to come, but if they hadn’t done what they did, none of us would even be here.”

That was a scary thought.

Ash was quiet for several moments. “There was a kingdom that existed when my father was alive. It was in the west, where Terra exists today, and was ruled by a council of elected officials. I believe it was called the kingdom of Creta.”

“I haven’t heard of that kingdom,” I said.

“Probably because it was a young one full of ideals and people who also believed they should not be ruled by a King and Queen,” he said. “They inevitably collapsed into infighting when no one could agree on anything from common laws to how rent should be collected.”

“Well, that’s disappointing to hear,” I muttered.

“But one failure doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be attempted again.”

I glanced over at him.

“I think the other Primals should be involved in the decisions. It would make them more invested in what occurs outside their Courts and Temples,” Ash continued. “But it won’t be easy.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. My brief interaction with some of the Primals tells me that. But…there could be safeguards in place, you know? If the majority decides something terrible—which, again, based on my interaction with some of them, could happen—a veto power or even a non-Primal could also step in. Actually, why should it just be the Primals? Shouldn’t the draken be involved in decisions?” Excitement grew. “Like Nektas.”

“I doubt he’d sign up for that,” Ash stated.

“Or any draken,” I said, silently adding that it would totally be Nektas. “There are so many better ways to do it.”

“There are.” He paused. “What made you think of that?”

I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. It wasn’t the first time it had crossed my mind. “I just don’t think one or two people should ever rule. And perhaps some of what has happened here wouldn’t have occurred if the other Primals were more invested in the decision-making.”

A faint smile appeared on his lips. “And you think you wouldn’t make a good Queen.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled, my face warming because I could clearly hear the pride in his voice. “Anyway, I brought this up because, as we said, the other Primals don’t know what it will be like if we rule. They don’t know that it can be better. So, why don’t we convince them?”

His gaze sharpened. “You’re talking about summoning the Primals.”

It was a bold move. One that could pay off or end in disaster, and my mind immediately wanted to travel down the darker road, telling me that it would be impossible to convince most of the Primals that we would be a better option than the false King. Because some would only see me and choose to remain loyal to Kolis, simply because I was once mortal. Because I am a woman. Because the last time some of them saw me, I was dressed in transparent gowns and seated at Kolis’s feet. Because—

Stop.

I took a deep breath to ease the tightening in my chest and nodded. “But not Veses or Kyn. I have no interest in convincing them of anything.”

“Neither do I.” Ash reached over and brushed a stray curl back. “I think we need to go over this with the Shadowlands gods, but if we can get the other Primals to side with us, taking Kolis down will be far easier.” He fell quiet for a moment, eyeing me. “I must admit, I’m surprised.”

“By what?”

“You.” He reached for the bottle of wine and refilled his glass. “I didn’t expect your response for how to handle Kolis to be so…measured.”

“Me neither,” I said. “It feels weird to be the practical one in a situation. Honestly, I don’t like it.”

Ash let out a low laugh. “Welcome to my world.”

I cracked a grin. “Is it a bad thing? To be measured?”

“No.” His head tilted. “It’s just that I expected you to be more of the attack-first-and-then-think-about-it type.”

“Well, that is my initial instinct,” I admitted, thinking back to when I’d stood in the bathing chamber. “To go straight to Dalos and take out anyone who stands in our way.”

“And why aren’t we doing that?”

“Because that would be rash and impulsive. It’s not really a plan. And…” I set my glass down, unsure how to put what I was thinking into words. “And it just seems like it would be a monstrous act.”

“I see,” he said, leaning back. “What happened with the riders has really gotten under your skin.”

There was no point in denying that. “I haven’t forgotten what we spoke about this morning.”

“You just don’t believe what I said to you about being a monster.”

“No, that’s not it,” I was quick to say. “I do believe it. I know I’m not like Kolis or Kyn, and I get that we are all a little monstrous.” I twisted toward him, dropping my hands to the robe’s velvety skirt. “I do. But I also know that I am more…prone to giving in to that side of me and I am trying to make a conscious effort not to do that.” I searched his gaze as my fingers curled against the soft material. “Is that wrong?”

“No, liessa.” He reached between us, straightening the collar of my robe. “It’s actually very wise.”

“Good,” I said. “Because I think approaching this cautiously will benefit us. Kolis doesn’t want—” I frowned as a sudden awareness pressed down on me.

“Kolis doesn’t want what?”

“War,” I whispered, concentrating on the feeling. It reminded me of what I felt when Primals were near, but this was different. The sensation didn’t center only in my chest. “Someone is coming.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ash tensed. “I don’t feel anything—” His head whipped toward the doors. “You felt them before I did.” He faced me, a faint grin on his face. “Your senses are progressing fast.”

A noise came no more than a heartbeat after he spoke. It was light, barely audible. The sound of scratching. My gaze darted to the doors.

“We have visitors.” Dipping his head, Ash kissed my forehead. “Welcome ones.”

I tipped forward as Ash rose. He took one last drink of wine and then moved the table back a few feet with a wave of his hand. Scooting to the edge of the couch, I tried to see around him as he cracked open the door. A new smell wafted into the chambers—a wild, earthy aroma mixed with something sweet.

I knew that scent, even though I’d never noticed it before. It belonged to the draken, as did the sense of awareness. I stood.

“Sorry.” The far-too-serious voice for one so young confirmed what I felt. “Nek is doing patrols. I’ve been trying to distract her, but she got away from me.”