Page 107 of In Rising Tides

Once inside, Wilder stood at the back windows, looking out at the endless horizon of the sea. It made him feel closer to her, as if he could reach out and touch her.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do next, but driving into the ocean and trying to swim to her probably wasn’t the most beneficial of all his plans.

Maelys lounged on a tufted chair, a plaid pillow tucked tightly to her chest as she looked out the window as well.

Cedric, Oak, Dust, and Oron bickered in the kitchen about which of the vegetables they had pillaged from the garden were still edible. While Ridge walked in with a small net full of fish.

“Did you know there are no fish in the pond?” he grumbled, dripping wet trousers pulled up over his knees. “Had to go to the sea.”

Wilder smiled to himself. He wasn’t the only fool who had fallen for that then.

“You didn’t notice there weren’t any ducks?” Maelys asked with a confused face. “How daft are you?”

Ridge’s eyes twinkled at Maelys’ snark, and it made Wilder instantly think of Lyra’s smart mouth.

Otto had a map splayed out on the scarred wooden table, his good arm stretched out on one side and his other still clutched to his chest as he talked to himself.

They needed to organize, to come up with a course of action, and to set it in motion. Wilder rubbed his jaw.

There was already talk of rebellion in the Wilds, but a rebellion wouldn’t succeed if the rebels didn’t come together as one. Small skirmishes would accomplish nothing against the great beast that was his father’s control.

Otto’s attention flicked back and forth between the present and the future, his eyes as turbulent as the sea before becoming as placid as a summer pond.

When his eyes slid closed and his breathing turned shallow, Wilder took a step towards the table, his feet propelled by an invisible wind. They did need to ally like one would in a war camp.

“We should establish our own council,” Wilder announced.

The room went silent except for the howl of the wind against the windows.

“Our path through the upcoming chaos needs to be direct and unyielding despite the challenges we face. We need to stand united.”

The pillow slipped from Maelys’ grip and slid to the wooden floor.

“You mean you’d like to make a plan this time and stick with it?” Her gaze slid from Wilder to Otto, annoyance flickering in her hazel eyes.

“Precisely. We can’t let what happened last time—happen again. Or we’ll fail.”

Otto inhaled slowly, and his shoulders lowered just a fraction.

“Do you see anything?” Ridge asked him.

A small twist of the lips was Otto’s only reply.

“Electing a council would strengthen your challenge for the throne,” Dust added. There was a firmness to the set of his jaw and the way he held his chin. “It would help garner support.”

Wilder pondered his words. It was quite possibly the only way to challenge for the throne again.

“Otto,” Wilder drawled. “Is there a way?”

Otto’s hands clenched and unclenched before toying with the corner of the parchment.

“It’s hard to say,” he said at last, with a great gust of air expelled from his lungs. “There are so many paths forward. So many paths to failure outweigh those to success. But a council wouldn’t lead to your downfall.”

Wilder didn’t know what to do from here. He had skipped most of his father’s council meetings, off doing whatever tasks were too menial for the king to stoop to.

He walked nearer to the table, grabbing the back of a ladder chair and squeezing it in his grip.

Ridge and Maelys followed suit, taking seats nearest Otto and facing Wilder.