The ambassador raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Is that so?” Her voice was a whisper as she took a step back.

  “You said you dreamt of the fight with the cultists. Could you elaborate?” he asked, pushing the image of the giant eye that appeared in his mind aside, and ignoring the dull pain around his eye.

  “I dream of events as they happen,” She explained, “It’s a rare skill, even among my people. I dream of people I have met, during important moments, usually. When their lives are in danger, when they are breathing their last breath…” her voice faded as her gaze sank for a moment. Then, she took a deep breath, returning a smile to her lips. “I can see your unasked questions.”

  Midhir pressed his lips together.

  “You are wondering whether the hidden patron of these cultists is the Theocracy.”

  Her words startled him. His eyes widened for a split second before he regained his composure. “I highly doubt that would be true.” He spoke after a few moments of hesitation. The thought had crossed his mind before, but it was so far-fetched, so unlikely that he didn’t consider it further.

  “But you questioned it.” She stated. “And so would I – we contacted you after many years, causing some of your elite forces to leave the fortress. Causing the Emperor to leave the fortress. You would be a fool not to question it.” She clenched her fist above her heart. “I am certain your father questions it also.”

  Midhir narrowed his eyes. His father had certainly considered the possibility but probably dismissed it like he had. “The Sunlit Summits worship the Sun God.” He chose his words carefully. “You worship the sun, ambassador. You seek light and cherish life.” He furrowed his brows, his expression darkened. “There is no light in the realm of the Old Gods.”

  Her eyes widened. “What is it like, then?”

  Midhir hesitated. “Dark, cold, and silent.” Terrifying, yet breathtaking. “There is no warmth there, no sun, even no stars…” The infinitely vast darkness was devoid of any light. Almost any light. The giant, colourful eye was as bright as the sun, as vibrant as the fields of flowers near Olisar…

  Ambassador Yvonne visibly shuddered. “To take away our sun and stars…” Her voice was but a whisper, fading as she shook her head in denial.

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  “The Sunlit Summits would not wish for that.” Midhir took a deep breath. “So yes, I do find it unlikely that the theocracy would become the patron of a cult whose goal is to awaken the Old Gods.” Unless they believed their Sun God was one of them as well, but as far as he knew, that was not part of their faith.

  “But Ambassador,” he hesitated. “What did you come here for? Surely it wasn’t just to inform me of your dream?” And to apologise.

  A faint, bitter smile flashed across her lips. “No, it was not.” She turned her back to him and walked a few steps away. “As I have said, I have the ability to dream of important moments in the lives of people I have met. It’s a rare ability that surfaces once every few generations.” She turned around to face him. “While diplomatic relations were non-existent, the church always watches. When the church was destroyed in Bareon, our leaders decided it was time to act – the vile acts of these cultists couldn’t be allowed to continue.”

  “You were to meet their leader at least once, then.” Midhir narrowed his eyes. It was almost brilliant. She would be able to see the important moments in his life – and an attempt to awaken the Old Gods was certainly important.

  Ambassador Yvonne nodded. “Indeed. But alas the opportunity slipped past us.” She met his gaze. “They intend to tear the veil apart. No mortal would survive that, I recon. The Sunlit Summits will come to Eldoria’s aid now and always to prevent that.”

  “Thank you.” It clearly wasn’t a declaration made lightly.

  “I’m afraid if I am absent any longer, my aides will start to worry. Shall we head to the banquet hall?”

  “Ah, of course.” He offered her his arm, which she gladly took.

  A beautiful melody from a violin filled the air in the banquet hall. Nobles, high ranking officers and Solus staff and students alike mingled with the guests from the Sunlit Summits. An open buffet allowed people to eat and drink at their leisure, and several sitting areas gave them a place to rest.

  The hall was decorated with vibrant flowers and colourful tapestry, with a large, empty area in the middle. Some couples danced to the slow melody of the violin.

  “Won’t you ask me for a dance, your highness?” Ambassador Yvonne asked with a smile. Her eyes glimmered with mischief.

  “I’m afraid I’m not dressed for the occasion.” He shot a meaningful glance around.

  The women wore flowing, elegant gowns adorned with intricate jewellery while the men wore tailored coats and embroidered tunics, their outfits adorned with fine sashes and polished boots. Midhir looked quite unsightly in his black military uniform, and the sheathed blade hanging from his belt.

  “There is a certain charm in simplicity, Prince Ardagh.” She said with a smile as she walked towards the dance floor. “And a certain rudeness to decline a lady.”

  She certainly wasn’t wrong about that second part. “In that case, I am honoured.” For once, he was glad Ilya had forced him to join her in her classes when they were younger. The only reason he still remembered how to dance was because she would mock him relentlessly until he perfected it.

  Perhaps just for tonight, it was fine to simply focus on the banquet – and put aside the danger looming above Eldoria.