Page 20 of Kingdom Of Veil And Vow

When King Dolian found us, it was after a night spent at the lake stargazing. My mother had been in her sewing room for nearly a week straight, only stepping out to see me off to school and to greet me when I returned. It was the height of the market season, and in order to keep us afloat, every spare minute went into her work. She sewed the most beautiful designs, embroidered patterns that made her garments feel unique and expensive, despite the lower quality of the fabric given to her by her clients. It was what caught the bastard’s eye when she was working in Vitour and what drew him to her shop time and time again, asking for more pieces until he ordered her to stop taking orders that weren’t his.

She was told it was an honor to be the king’s personal tailor. That the guaranteed income from the crown was worth more than whatever she might have made from her peers. To that end, they weren’t wrong. But what they failed to see, what my mother herself didn’t recognize until it was too late, was that the king wasn’t just providing her work because he valued her talent. He was isolating her. Making her dependent on him. And what could a lowly seamstress do under the attentions of the king of the realm but abide by his every desire?

She never told me the circumstances of how I came into existence. Beyond the physical act of having sex, which I do not want or need the details of, I can’t imagine a scenario in which she would have willingly bed the king. Not after the fear I saw in her eyes any time he was mentioned. Or the sadness that lingered any time I asked to know more about him. Looking back now, I can appreciate just how much my mother attempted to shield me from the horrors that my father must have inflicted upon her. I know that it broke her heart the night we returned from the lake, the names of constellations still bouncing between us until her steps froze and her hand squeezed mine fiercely. Her voice had faltered as she begged the king not to take me. With tears in her eyes, she explained that she told no one of my true parentage. Surrounded by his guards, King Dolian let her talk, let hope embrace us until he snuffed it out with a single word.

“No.”

After that, the night had moved in a blur. I was torn from my mother’s arms, her pleas for me still heard as she was escorted back into the house and I was thrown into a carriage to wait for the king.

You will tell no one of our relation. As far as you are concerned, your father is dead, just as you will be if you utter the truth to anyone. His expression hadn’t so much as flickered as he spoke, as if he rehearsed the lines a hundred times prior. You will work as an apprentice in the King’s Guard until you are old enough to officially test in. You may keep your first name, but you will change your last name to something else. I don’t care what, so long as it is not Maxwell.

He’s never bothered to ask what name I chose, or if I even chose one at all. I’ve only ever gone by Xander to him and everyone else in my life.

The carriage ride was full of awkward silence as he avoided looking at me and only when we reached the castle what felt like hours later did he finally flick his hazel eyes to meet mine.

Before you enter my home, you are required to make a promise. One that will take your life if you break it. One of his guards produced a golden dagger and latched on to my wrist, the blade slicing across my palm. You will vow here and now in blood to never be the hand that strikes down King Dolian Maxwell of the Mortal Kingdom. Despite the king’s threats, he’s never forced me to make more than that single blood oath.

Then he found out I had visited my mother without his permission. I was lured out onto the castle lawn, thinking it looked serene under the silver light of the moon before realizing my mother was there. That the king was. Grayson was part of the retinue commanded to bring her to the castle, and he was there when other guards apprehended me. When they cut my tunic open and held me in place as King Dolian ordered my back to be flayed open. All while my mother was forced to watch. Blood had pooled around me as she wailed, and only when my own voice grew hoarse did he finally order the guard to stop.

But there would be no other mercy that night. I knew what was happening before the king said anything else, and though my mother’s last words were a plea for me to look away, I didn’t. Not as one of the King’s Guardsmen yanked her head back by her hair, and not as he dragged his blade over her throat.

This is your fault, the king had said, his voice low as he crouched to hover over me. Had you not shown me such a great weakness, she would still be alive. Had you not been so desperate to get to her, so eager to break my fucking rules, she would have been able to return to that hovel of a home, but no. No, you could not allow your mother peace. His eyes shone wild with rage then—and jealousy. He was jealous of the love I harbored for my mother. A love he never sought out or dared to nurture but still wanted as his own.

Before that night, I wondered if the magic of a blood oath was even real. But, as my chest heaved and blood soaked into my pants at my knees, I’d dared to lunge at the king. Had every intention of killing him, because what else did I have to live for? But the magic held me in place, the feeling of a thousand needles digging into my skin making my vision grow black. And then I passed out, later awoken by Grayson whose pitying look confirmed that everything I had just experienced wasn’t a terrible nightmare. That night changed everything.

I bring her portrait to my lips, kissing it gently before laying it back in the drawer and covering it with Alexi’s journal and then the towels. Her death was a catalyst towards the life I live now, but it would be the king’s that made it all worth it. Only when I see his head roll from his body will I know that my mother’s retribution has arrived, and when our people know a kind of peace she only dreamed about while on the run from the man who sired me, I will finally allow myself to rest.

Chapter Fourteen: Xander

I find Tienne in one of the three main kitchens that serve those who reside here in the castle, her hands dusted in flour and brows pinched in concentration as she kneads a large ball of dough. The room is already warm from the large wood-fire oven in the corner, the scent of freshly baked goods thick in the air. So focused on her kneading, she doesn’t notice that I am here until I gently knock on the tabletop, drawing her gaze up, light brown eyes glistening.

“Xander,” she breathes, wiping her hands down the front of her white apron. “What a lovely surprise.” She takes in my stance, the undercurrent of tension that it holds. Things she only notices because we have known each other for so long. “Though I doubt you’ve come simply for a friendly chat.”

I cross my arms over my chest, feeling oddly bare without my armor today. The king said that we would not need it for the first trial of the Trusted candidates, but despite my hatred of it, I’ve become accustomed to its weight against me. “You are correct. I’ve come to see if you have heard anything about what might be happening in the first trial today.”

“You think I might know something?” she teases, wiping her brow with the back of her hand as she rounds the table, leaning a hip against its edge. The corner of my mouth threatens to lift as I stare down at her, and she huffs out a laugh. “I don’t know much,” she relents. “A few others heard mention of the king needing sweet cherry wine, but not much else.” She lifts her eyes back to mine and takes in my disappointment. I was hoping to give my men some kind of edge before the trial. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I answer, straightening and letting my hands fall to my sides. “The king is still much too cautious of what he allows to be known around me. It is… frustrating.”

“You know how his mind works. Patience is key,” she reminds me, offering a small smile. “Have you decided which men you will nominate?”

“I have. I am on my way to meet with them next.” I had told Grayson my choices, and he found them to be our best options too. They were informed that, should they accept the nomination, they were to meet me at dawn. I won’t force them into becoming a Trusted, not with the additional blood oaths I know the king will make them take.

“They’ll come,” she says with an air of confidence that makes the corners of my mouth raise.

I swipe a freshly made roll and say goodbye, making my way up the stairs to the castle’s main floor. I’m grateful for the quiet, only the castle staff, some guards, and a handful of nobles meandering about. My gaze runs over the tapestries meant to hide the chipped white paint on the stone walls as I make my way to the double staircase centered in a large foyer near the castle’s center. Depictions of everything from fair maidens dancing during the summer solstice to portraits of past kings fighting wars against foreign foes.

Following the crimson and gold runners that are centered down the main hall, I slow my steps as I pass the entryway to the king’s quarters. A quick glance out a nearby window tells me that the sun is still a handful of minutes away from rising and I need to move quickly if I am to meet with Darin, Theo, and Alden before today’s trial. Two guards stand tall as I pass, their eyes locking on me to assess before both relaxing. Giving them a nod, I don’t linger but rush to the opposite end of the hall, turning left and officially entering the queen’s wing. Coming to a stop in front of the door with a gold flower, I quickly open it and dip inside, gently shutting it behind me.

It smells of stale air and dust—these rooms having sat vacant since Queen Luna Maxwell last occupied them—and I move quickly through a grand sitting room to the bedroom, finding the hidden door in the farthest wall and pressing it open. Digging out the matches from my pocket, I strike one and light the torch that I last left here, holding the flame up to see the colored markings on the tunnel walls. Green signifies the direction leading to an exit outside. Blue means that the room is within the castle walls and to proceed with caution. Red leads right to the resistance meeting room, the most hidden of all the places connected to the tunnels. Mapping them all out had taken the better part of six months, and only I hold the knowledge of all the exits.

Following the red markings to the right location, I’m relieved when I see all three of my candidates already waiting. “Darin. Theo. Alden.” I greet them all as I extinguish the torch and step into the room, meeting Grayson’s eyes where he leans against the wall.

“Took you long enough,” he teases before biting into an apple.

“Needed to stop and speak with Tienne.” Brushing my hands down the front of my tunic, I ignore the way he smirks. I’ve told him time and time again that Tienne and I are just friends, but it might as well go in one ear and out the other.

“Have you heard anything about today’s trial?” Darin asks, running a freckle-covered hand through his short red hair. He keeps his face neutral, but his anxiousness bleeds through in the slight tremor of his voice, the way he can’t keep still as he paces. Theo and Alden are seated at the large table that houses a wooden map of the kingdoms, matching wood pieces placed to represent the beings in each.