Page 5 of Kingdom Of Veil And Vow

“Do you know what it takes to be one of the king’s Trusted?” I ask, my voice calm despite the rage igniting within me.

“Of course I—”

“You have to go through rigorous training. Both physical and mental,” I interrupt, enjoying the way his cheeks heat at the slight. “You have to prepare for all of the ways someone might dare to harm our king, and you have to be willing to put your life on the line to stop it.”

He bares his teeth. “You think I don’t know that? I have spent years longer on the guard than you have, and I—” His words are cut off by a sharp intake of breath when I seize the edge of his chest armor with one hand and press the cold golden blade of my dagger to his neck with the other.

“In training, you are told there is no one and nothing greater than the safety of the king. And you have to be willing to kill anyone who poses a threat.” He tries to jerk away from me, but I angle the blade slightly and watch as his body grows rigid, a growl slipping past his lips. “Are you a fucking threat, Cyrus? Because there are only two reasons for the way you just treated a member of the king’s Trusted. Either, you want the king dead, which makes you a threat. Or you think you actually have leverage against me. That you have power behind your pathetic presence. Which makes you a fool. So which one is it?”

“I am no fool—”

“Then you must be a threat, and I have a duty to eliminate threats to His Majesty.”

He hisses as the blade nicks his skin, beads of deep red pooling from the small opening. “Are you going to stand there and let him treat me this way?” he shouts to Brisk.

“He outranks you. Outranks us both.” Bright blue eyes meet mine, an amused glint in them. “To go against him would be breaking the chain of command.”

“And we know what the punishment for that is, don’t we?” Cyrus lets out another frustrated rumble at my question. “Want to change your answer?”

His neck strains against the edge of the blade, crimson still meeting gold. I see the moment defeat overtakes him, his eyes dulling as they hold mine. “I am no threat.”

“Which means?” I coax.

“I am a fool,” he says, loud enough that those walking by look.

I let my dagger linger against his skin before lifting it away, sheathing it without breaking eye contact. “Back into position, Cyrus.”

He gives me a withering look, fingers wiping away the blood from his neck before he tugs on the door handle behind him. Pulling it open, I wait until his view of me is blocked before sending Brisk a quick look that promises to move him to a different post. Then I stride into the throne room where the king stands atop a multi-step dais, one hand in the pocket of his perfectly tailored dark blue pants while his other arm drapes over the back of his massive throne. I feel his eyes on me as I walk to the base of the steps, dropping to one knee and bowing my head. He lets silence build to an uncomfortable level before he finally speaks.

“You’re late.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty. I rushed over as soon as I was informed that Commander Miles’s unit returned.” Though I never vowed in blood to be truthful to King Dolian, the cut on my palm gives a phantom sting as if I have. My oath may appear less restrictive than the other guards’, but he ensured my life was hell because of it. To King Dolian, I am not his son. I’m barely worthy of being called his guard. No, to him, I was an experiment. Something to break and remold into whatever he wanted. He stripped me down to my bare bones over and over again, and only when he believed that I held no self-worth, that my loyalty was to him and him alone, did he begin to relent. I have spent my entire life pretending that I would die for the king in front of me when, in truth, I have been building his demise right behind his back.

“Rise.” His voice echoes in the vast space of the throne room, and when I obey and lift my head, I find his expression is less than pleased, his ringed fingers tapping idly along the golden edge of the throne. I remove my helmet and tuck it into the crook of my arm as he continues, “Commander Miles was just informing me of what he witnessed at the mage border.” I glance at where the commander stands with the king’s advisor, Simon, noting how he cradles an arm wrapped in white gauze to his chest. Behind him is the remaining member of the Trusted besides myself, Jerrick. Rigid in his posture, he stares in the king’s direction, but I know he is taking pleasure in the king’s anger with me. “They are gone!” King Dolian shouts, drawing my gaze back. “She is gone.” He rubs a hand over his short beard, hazel eyes burning brightly as he steps away from the throne.

“We will retrieve her again, Your Majesty.” Simon steps forward, his hands clasped behind his back as he bows his head. “This is only a temporary delay. She cannot hide there forever.”

“An investigation is well underway into how Flynn was able to join the guard and bypass the oath,” I say, to which Simon chuckles. I meet his beady little eyes.

“I think the answer is already fairly obvious. As a mage, Flynn was clearly able to heal his cut before his blood bound him to the oath he was taking,” Simon says, King Dolian descending the dais steps. “King Sadryn planted one of his own here to spy on you, Sire.”

The king ponders this as he draws his eyes back towards his throne, as if making sure the seat of his power is still there. “To what end? They could not have known about the princess.” Though his phrasing is coy, I have no doubt that everyone in this room is aware that Princess Rhea has magic. Just as I don’t doubt they have all given blood to be kept quiet.

“They have always abided by their own agenda,” Simon says, an odd look crossing his face. “King Sadryn might have wanted her simply as a way to torture you.”

King Dolian contemplates this, pacing in front of Simon and I.

“Well if that is the case, they will learn of the consequences for taking something that is mine.” His attention falls back to me. “As you are aware, we are down three members of the Trusted.” I nod.

Jerrick steps forward, head bowed. “I have men I would like to recommend for the job, Your Majesty.”

“As do I.” Jerrick’s eyes snap to mine, annoyance flaring. But if he thinks I’m going to sit idly by while the rest of the Trusted is filled with men who are no doubt like him, then he’s sorely mistaken. The deaths of the other guards are the opening I need to bring in members of the resistance. People I trust to help gather information that can only be gleaned from a position this close to the king. The more of my own men I can gather, the better.

“Gather three of your best candidates each, and we will begin their trials soon,” the king says, waving his hand as if this conversation is beneath him. It’s how he treated every conversation regarding my mother after he took me from her. “Now, Commander Miles, tell me more about this prisoner you’ve brought to my dungeon.”

Chapter Three: Siyala

The ground is cold beneath my paws, wet soil from the recent rains sticking to them. Plants with wide leaves brush against me, sending a shiver over my body as I rush past. It’s a game of chase, except I’m running to beat the setting sun. I glance up at the bright pink sky, the sunlight nearly gone, and push myself to go faster. Mama told me to be home before night arrives or I’ll be stuck doing chores inside for a whole week. I’ve only just learned how to shift, turning into a fox whose fur is as white as my hair. I wanted something fierce like Tiare’s panther or large like Cousin Kai’s wolf. But Papa says a fox is better. That it’s because I’m so cunning and quick that the magic gave me this animal. I don’t care about being cunning or quick. I want to show Papa that it’s okay that he can’t shift anymore. That now that I can, he doesn’t have to worry.