Doubt crept into Dorian's eyes once more. She looked so earnest, filled with such profound joy, he wanted to weep himself.

Annoura grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the shei'dalin. "Leave us, Fey!" she barked. "I will speak to my husband alone. Without your sorcery influencing him.”

"Without my-?" Marissya choked back whatever words were on the tip of her tongue. She took a deep breath and visibly controlled her temper. "Dorian," she said in a much calmer voice, "kem jita’taikonos." Grandson of my sister's line. The appellation tugged at Dorian's emotions. She hadn't called him that in a very long time, not since he'd ascended the throne after his father's death. "Everything I've told you is true. I would never lie to you, and I would never try to manipulate your thoughts. Everything I've ever done has been to protect and help you, as I protected and helped your fathers before you. As I hope to protect and help your sons after you.”

"I don't know what to believe anymore," Dorian muttered, turning away from Marissya's outstretched hands and entreating eyes. "Please, do as my queen says. Leave us.”

Marissya's fingers curled in loose fists, and her arms fell back to her sides. Dax put a hand on her shoulder. "Come, shei’tani.” He gestured. The door leading back to the Council Chamber opened, and he escorted her through.

When they were gone, Annoura caught Dorian's hand. "You know you cannot believe anything the shei'dalin said. She lied about the Dark Lord. She hid him from you, here in your own palace, the seat of your power. The place you call home. She did that even knowing her brother was murdering Celierians in the north. You can't afford to fall for her shei'dalin tricks.”

"But what if she's telling the truth? Even if the Fey and the dahl'reisen are in collusion, what reason besides Mage-claiming would they have for killing Celierian peasants?”

She gave a short laugh. "The treaty, Dorian. Think about it. Under your leadership, Celieria has prospered and grown strong. We have become the leading power in the mortal world. Yet the moment we consider signing a treaty that would give us independence from the Fey, Celierians begin dying in the north and Rain Tairen Soul appears after a thousand-year exile to stir up fears about a reconstituted Mage threat ... a threat no one but he seems able to sense." She moved closer and took his hands. "Fear is power, darling. As long as we fear the Eld, the Fey can keep Celieria under their thumb, reliant upon them.”

Dorian had lived his life amidst the intrigues of the palace. Courtiers smiled and pledged friendship and loyalty while plotting behind one's back. Everything Annoura said made sense, and if it were any other ally but the Fey, he would unquestioningly believe them capable of such machinations. But trusting the Fey was so ingrained in him, it was practically instinct now. Even when confronted with proof that threw all his beliefs into doubt, he didn't want to think them capable of deception.

Annoura caught his face in her hands and stared earnestly into his eyes. "I know how difficult this is for you, my love, but your country needs you to be strong. You must put aside your personal feelings for the Fey and consider what is best for Celieria. Banish the Fey from the Council Chamber so they can't manipulate our minds," she urged. "Have the guard bring Gaelen vel Serranis from Old Castle, bound in as much sel'dor as we can find, and let him stand for questioning by the Council. Let us discover all the facts, not just the ones the Fey want us to know. And then let the lords vote their conscience."

The loud murmur of voices fell silent when the door to the king's private antechamber opened again. All eyes focused on King Dorian and his queen as they approached the raised dais and took their seats in the matching gold and silver thrones.

"Lord Corrias," Dorian commanded, "escort Lady Marissya, Lord Dax, and the rest of the Fey to their rooms and see that they stay there.”

"Dorian, nei!" Marissya protested.

He ignored her. "Send a runner to Old Castle. Have them bind vel Serranis in every ounce of sel'dor we possess, then bring him here, to this chamber, for questioning. The Council will reconvene in half a bell to hear the Dark Lord's testimony."

Her devotions in the luminary complete, Ellysetta knelt once more at the altar rail while Greatfather Tivrest held his golden scepter over her head and intoned the second blessing. When he was done, she rose and followed him to the large, heavily carved and gilded door that led to the Solarus. Behind her, the faint clap of Fey boots sounded against the nave's marble floors as her quintet came to stand beside the entrance to the sacred chamber.

Greatfather Tivrest harrumphed his disapproval of their presence and glared at them from beneath thick, dark brows. "You shall not enter the Solarus. Your comrade has checked it.”

"And I will check it again before the Feyreisa sets foot inside," Bel insisted. His cobalt eyes held the archbishop's glare steadily until Tivrest stepped aside in grumbling defeat.

"Enter, then," he muttered. "But only one of you as before. Touch nothing, complete your search, and get out.”

Bel bowed and entered the Solarus. Ellysetta stood waiting in the protective circle of her remaining quintet while Bel conducted his investigation. Several long chimes later, he returned. "The room is clear.”

"Beylah vo, Bel." She laid a hand on his. "Thank you for everything." Against her calf, she felt the distinctive tingle of magic as her bloodsworn Fey'cha re-formed in secret. Taking a deep breath, she followed Greatfather Tivrest into the sacred chamber. Selianne and Lauriana followed close behind, and the great golden door swung shut.