“And you’ll tell me about this mysterious relic then?”
“Promise.”
“You’ve made a lot of promises to me already, Callum.” Elia stops in front of me with her hands on her hips, tilting her chin up to meet my eyes.
I lick my lower lip. “Don’t worry, Siren, I intend to keep all of them.” I brush a piece of her hair that came out of her braid behind her ear. “Goodnight.”
With that, I exit the room before I do anything foolish. Well, anything more foolish than that nickname that had suddenly slipped out.
I allow myself a couple of minutes to pull myself together in the corridor. I lean against the cold stone wall, eyes closed, giving myself a chance to breathe and brace myself before my next task. Then I can allow myself to rest for the night.
I head towards the King’s tower, taking the flights of spiral stairs slowly to delay the inevitable. When I reach the top landing, I decide that I can’t procrastinate any longer. I nod at the two guards stationed on either side of the door, and knock twice. I hear a grunt of assent and open the door. King Corvin’s study and his rooms beyond are without a doubt the most opulent rooms of the castle. Every surface is gilded, and on a bright sunny day it can hurt to look around the room, sun reflecting off every surface.
King Corvin is sitting in a plush armchair by the fire, sipping on what appears to be wine. I cross the room to take the highbacked chair opposite him, bowing slightly before sitting down.
“Callum, my boy!” The king booms, reaching forward and clapping me hard on my shoulder. “I didn’t hear you arrive.”
“We only did so an hour ago. I had to show our guest to her room.” My mask immediately slips into place, one I’m very familiar with in dealing with the King.
“Ah…yes, yes! Our lucky little Clover! This time we’re going to find it; I know it!” He gestures wildly, and I warily eye the cup in his hands, waiting for the first splash of wine to hit the floor.
“We’ll try our best, Your Majesty.” I should correct him, tell him her actual name, but I don’t want him to know. I don’t want to hear her beautiful name leaving his drunken lips.
“Any trouble on your journey?”
I recall what Elia had mentioned about the corruption in the labor camps and debate mentioning that. King Corvin takes my silence as an opportunity to pour himself another cup, peering into the bottle as if wonderingwhere all the wine went. I decide to leave that conversation for another day until I have more concrete information and the King’s full attention.
“None, sir. Everything went according to plan. We’ll start the Hunt for the relic tomorrow with her.”
“Good, good,” the king slurs, sinking deeper into the chair. His head leans against the armrest.
“How have you been feeling?” I regret the question as soon as the words form on my lips. The king rushes to sit up, and the remainder of his wine is flung into the fire, sizzling where the liquid meets the flame.
“How am I feeling?!” He yells, standing to his feet now. I rise to meet him, and he points a finger in my face. “I would feel better if you found the fucking Stone! I have given you hundreds of chances, boy!”
He shoves me, hard, and I stumble to maintain my balance.
“I gave you this position under the assumption that you were the best! You were nothing before your Hunters! And what do I have to show for it? Nothing.” He closes the distance between us again. “You’re still only a boy pretending to be a man.” He spits on the ground, missing my foot by inches.
His yelling hasn’t fazed me since I was young. “The Stone will be yours within the year, Your Majesty.” I bow deeply.
“It had better be,” he seethes. “Now leave, and don’t come to see me unless you have better news.”
“Yes, sir.” I turn to swiftly leave, and I make the rookie mistake of giving the King my back. The wine bottle shatters against the hard curve of my shoulder right before I manage to sneak out. I close the door in one quick motion and remain calm as I wish the guards a good night, as if they hadn’t heard the yelling or glass shattering.
Once I’m out of sight of the guards, I sprint back down the stairs to my room. I peel my shirt off to assess the damage, but thankfully the bottle was hurt more than me. The shoulder area is tender, and a few shards of glass managed to nick the side of my neck, but I was relatively unscathed. This time.
The King has never been a friend to me, but his ire and wrath has become worse. He drinks almost constantly now, and I’ve never met a meaner drunk. I have to keep reminding myself that his health condition causes him a lot of pain, that drinking is his only relief.
I want to unlock the door to check on Elia to make sure she was able to fall asleep, but hold myself back. If she’s not asleep, this isn’t the state I want her to see me in.
Instead, I climb into bed and fall asleep, dreaming of the sun and its surrounding planets.
Chapter 7
Elia – Fifteen Years Ago
“Aurelia.”
