Chapter Text
A firm hand stopped her as she was about to leave the meeting, gripping her arm with force. Seraphim turned around in a swift motion. Fluxion was the one holding her and when their eyes met her blood froze in her veins. His gaze held a sort of authority that you only give to mad men, intense and dark, searching her own eyes for the slightest sign of disloyalty. His grip like a falcon's claws, digging in her skin if not for the vambraces. His smile, gentle and suave, but his words, cold.
"You understand right?
-I do, her voice steady. Her eyes flicked to the side.
-Good. This is for the good of Island 2." His grip did not weaken.
She barely winced but her eyes met his with more determination this time. "I know." She paused, waiting for her secret leader to relent and let her leave the room but his gaze was focused on her, unyielding. "I know-
-Jophiel needs to die.
She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end under his presence and orders.
She had come to him wanting change from the passive actions of the council hoping for a stronger future, for a better plan against the very probable invasion by island 1. She agreed the current leaders were too apathetic, arming the soldiers that would come to kill them in a very short time. What they needed was a strong leader to follow, unafraid of the threat and ready to fight it.
And Tricolour, more than any kingdom, would not fit in this plan of theirs. Closed on itself, focused on pretty buildings and their Queen refusing to hear about outside politics. Their military forces were far from good enough to defend themselves against Island 1 and had never been a focus for the Queen no matter how many times Seraphim had brought it up.
But did she deserve to die for that?
Seraphim forced her head to turn fully towards Fluxion, slightly cowering under the intensity of his glare.
"I'll deal with it." Came her words, voice steady and true.
Finally he let go of her arm and brushed past her and left the meeting room underwater without another words.
She let go of the breath she'd been holding as a weight slowly formed in her chest. She had to do it now. Her hand gripped the hilt of her sword where shone the colours of Tricolour, and a bitter taste spread in her mouth.