Page 10 of Kingdom Of Veil And Vow

“Yes, but that alone does not make him a great man.” Her hand rests on my cheek as her thumb rubs the skin there. “You are infinitely more than he will ever be, even at only nine. I know you wish for what your peers have and, perhaps, you might even be angry with me for not giving you something similar.” I try to look away, but she turns my face back to hers. “But you, my scholar, do not need anything more than what is in here.” Her other hand moves to tap on my chest, right above my heart. “You are good, kind, and incredibly intelligent. You are strong and loyal. All of those things were not given to you by the king or any man.”

“Or woman?” I ask, happy when the question makes her smile.

“Or woman,” she agrees, leaning down to press her forehead against mine. “Much as I wish to take credit.” She laughs, and my eyes fall shut at the sound. Sometimes, she goes a long while without laughing. “Those things are simply who you are. I am so proud to be your mother, Xander.”

“This is good news,” Grayson says from where he leans against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. “You wanted to have the chance to get the information from her before the king could, and now you have it.”

I nod and press back against my chair, one hand loosely set in my lap, while the other rests on the table in front of me. Grayson’s right. This is the best case scenario. After the king’s torture session led to the shifter—Bella—passing out, Jerrick and I had brought her back to her cell. The king then gave me the job of breaking her for information. It’s exactly what I needed, unfettered access to her that wouldn’t be questioned by him or any other guard. Yet something felt off about him just giving me the responsibility. Everything he does always comes with a cost that I am expected to pay.

“I want to know every single godsdamn thing Rhea could have told that shifter. I want to know exactly how many times Flynn was in that tower.” His frustration had turned his cheeks pink while two lines formed between his brows and his finger dug into the armor at my chest. “I want to know if he touched her. If Alexi did.” It had taken everything in me not to vomit. Maybe that was my punishment. He must have known that I found the idea of my father and my cousin together romantically repulsive. So what better way to torture me than by making me complicit in his plot to bring the princess back? “Get the information by any means necessary.”

“Was it rough?” Grayson’s voice drops an octave, drawing my gaze away from an indent on the wooden table in front of me.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” I attempt to shrug but abandon it halfway through. Grayson knows me well enough that I don’t have to pretend.

“Nothing you haven’t experienced.” His light brown eyes glisten with anger, the bitterness of a father figure forced to watch as a child’s actual father beat him. Tortured him. Not just physically—though King Dolian rarely ever did it with his own hands—but mentally. Emotionally. He’s not wrong, but that conversation isn’t one we need to have right now. Not as we wait for the people to filter in from Vitour.

“She is injured pretty badly. Worse now,” I say, changing the subject and sitting up in my chair, resting my elbows on the table. “We should send Tienne to her.”

Grayson moves from the wall and pulls the chair to my left out, sinking into it with a weary exhale. “You sure? She’ll expose the alternate way in.”

“That’s only if Bella is paying attention,” I counter, head turning to look at one of the hidden doors carved into the stone. It connects to a series of tunnels that run both beneath the castle and behind some of the walls. I thought they might be servants’ passages, ways for them to get around without being seen. But Grayson thinks their origins tell a different story. One that speaks to a time before The War Of Five Kingdoms. When shifters, dragons, sirens, and mages alike might have walked the Mortal Kingdom freely. Just because war wasn’t recorded doesn’t mean that there weren’t skirmishes or disagreements between kingdoms, and royalty would have needed somewhere to hide that would protect them from everyone else.

“What else is there for her to do but pay attention?”

I huff out a breath, drumming my fingers along the table. “She is dehydrated. I suspect that something is wrong with her magic, as she hasn’t shifted at all since being shot with the arrow. I don’t know all of what the shifters can do, but if expedited healing is no longer on the table, I don’t imagine she will be able to focus much on who is coming from which entrance.”

“It’s still a risk.”

“I know.” Every choice I make, from who I decide to speak to publicly to when I risk venturing in the tunnels to who I trust, isn’t made lightly. It’s why I created those three rules. Never show weakness, never deviate from a plan, and never let anyone get close. My experiences hadn’t been earned but forced upon me. I was nothing but a pawn to the king, and for so many years, I wasn’t able to fight back. I endured, because of my mother, because I didn’t know better. It was Grayson who challenged me to become more than what King Dolian wanted. He didn’t create the idea of the resistance, but he gave me the encouragement I needed to believe that I could return the harm the king had done tenfold. The rules make sure I stick to that goal.

I am long past hating my father for what he did. Now I just want to strip him of everything he loves. I want him to suffer, as he had made my mother suffer. I want him dead.

“But I need to ask her about the princess. To ascertain just what kind of threat she might be. Bella can’t die before I get that chance.”

“Who’s Bella?” The familiar voice comes from behind me, her hand patting my shoulder as she passes, the scent of sugar following. Tienne pulls the chair to my right out and sits, hands releasing her dark brown hair from the messy braid it’s in. She was a child when she started working in the kitchens, following her mother’s footsteps. I had already been an apprentice in the guard for over two years when our paths finally crossed. She found me in the training yard, working off my anger from a particularly horrific meeting with the king. I was curt to her and when she left, I assumed I would never see her again. But she returned a short time later, fresh rolls and strawberry jam in hand, and forced me to take a break. It was the first time someone outside of Grayson had shown me kindness for the sake of it.

“The newest prisoner,” Grayson answers for me when I accidentally let the silence linger for too long. More people filter in, all nodding their heads in greeting as they either pull up chairs to the table or find a place to stand. I refocus myself, standing from my chair and leaning my hands on the table, waiting until the door to the tunnels closes.

“Welcome. Did anyone have issues getting in?”

A chorus of denials respond, and my shoulders relax a little more. I take in our small but mighty group, pride swelling in my chest. It’s an emotion I’ve so rarely been allowed to feel, but I humble myself beneath the weight of it.

“Good, then let’s get started. Is there anyone here for the first time?” I already know the answer, a few nervous glances bouncing my way as a handful of people raise their hands. “You’re welcome to introduce yourself if you’d like.”

A woman with short black hair presses forward, the gathered parting for her. “Hello, everyone, I’m Taryn. I came with Remi.” She tosses a thumb over her shoulder to where a man with deep brown eyes and tanned skin leans against the wall. He raises a hand in greeting before nodding at her to continue. “My family owns a few acres of farm land just outside of Vitour as you’re heading towards the southern beaches.” A few voices murmur in recognition. The land there is rich, fruit trees and rows of vegetable plants line the landscape as you’re traveling the road to the beach. “The king raised his taxes over the past six months, and though we should grow enough to cover the cost, he demanded that the castle be given more of our crop at a steeper discount than before.” Her eyes fall to the table, her fingers twisting the dirt-stained tunic she wears. “My father… He’s been working this land for decades, and he has never been in a position where he couldn’t give what the ruling king wanted. He’s never been in debt before. But with the increase and a spring with less rain, we fell behind.” I hold a breath in my chest, already suspecting what she’s going to say next—it’s nearly the same story every time. “King’s Guardsmen showed up at our door, demanding payment right then. We gave them what we could, all the coin we had to survive on ourselves, but it wasn’t enough.” A tear slips down her cheek, dropping onto the worn wood. “They broke my father’s legs. He can’t work. Can’t help bring crops to market. At this rate, we are going to lose everything.”

Whispers of discontent surround me, the energy intensifying as I look from face to face. Taryn makes her way back to Remi, who leans down and kisses the top of her head. A flash of bitterness sears its way through me before I can tear my gaze away. Remi has been a member of the resistance for only a few months, but he has proven to harbor just as much anger towards the king as everyone else here. I wonder how long he has been with Taryn. If he told her about the resistance and she waited until now to join, or if he waited until he knew for sure he could trust her. I don’t babysit my members once they’ve been initiated in. They go through a vetting process and are more than aware of what will happen if word of the resistance comes to light. But as I watch Taryn snuggle closely to Remi, his hand moving up and down her arm in soothing lines, I wonder, with no shortage of regret, if love could make him blind as it once did to me.

I refocus, my attention following an older gentleman as he makes his way to the table. His deep brown skin is wrinkled, and white salt rims the edges of his clothing. “I’m Jaron. Been a worker at the docks my entire life. Along with my brothers.” He folds his arms over his chest, a hand reaching up to scratch at his thick black beard. “My brother, Eelan, wasn’t careful about how he let his mouth run, and he told the wrong man that he was frustrated with the extra taxes imposed on our goods. We may not be nobles, but we aren’t illiterate fools. We see what the king is getting these goods for and what he is then charging his own people. Eelan was frustrated. His daughter has only seen two summers, and he was working all day to make enough money for his family to survive. He’s missing her growing up.” Jaron clears his throat as he shakes his head. “He was turned into the guards for treason. They gave him no trial. No due process to plead his case. He sat in the dungeon for three days before the king ordered his death.” His eyes hold mine, the men and women surrounding the table shifting their weight uncomfortably. “Family means everything to me. I want to believe that what you preach is true. That you want an end to the king’s reign as much as those of us here. But you work closely with him, do you not?”

“Yes,” I answer quickly, my spine straightening.

Leading from the shadows is daunting work. It comes with very little immediate reward. I want people whose hatred for the king is a constant simmer in their blood, like it is mine. I want men and women who know that, for the greater good, we must make choices that delay gratification so that, when the moment is right, we can strike as one and bring King Dolian down swiftly.

“I hold no loyalty to him, nothing beyond what he’s made me vow in blood. Just like some of you.” I jut my chin out to where Brisk stands, still in his guard’s armor. “I cannot physically kill the king, but there is nothing stopping me from planning an uprising. My intention is unwavering; my conviction is strong. My loyalty is to the people of the Mortal Kingdom. To the workers who make up the heart that beats strong within it. But I also harbor a need for vengeance that demands payment.” I drag in a deep breath, fighting the urge to flex my fingers at my side. It’s a risk telling people this, one that I know will be traced back to me if word spreads. But, I need them to trust me. To understand that I’m risking everything because I believe that we can make things better in this kingdom. “King Dolian murdered my mother. Took even more from me. All because he wanted to make sure a bastard of his own blood would be submissive.” Jaron’s eyes widen, his head jerking back in shock. “If you’re afraid that I might betray you, that I secretly hold love for him, I beg you to ask yourself one question.”

Though my stomach twists in anxiousness, I tug on the hem of my shirt and pull it off, turning and exposing the jagged scars that criss-cross my back. Heat floods up my shoulders and neck, settling in my cheeks as I ignore the quick gasps and murmured curses that echo out.