Page 103 of Fate of the Sun King

Her eyes narrow into knife-sharp points dedicated to slicing through my vital organs.

“I said Lord Summers,” she hisses. “If you ruin this ceremony…”

“Perhaps…” I say, interrupting her, which makes her cheeks turn pink and her neck flush in a decidedly unattractive way. She looks like a lobster that tried its mother’s lipstick with unflattering results. “… I’m not the best person for this discussion? I’ve never had a good head for names.”

“You are the captain,” she says. “It’s your job to know these people better than anyone.”

“I assure you that of the many illustrious and honorable duties I am burdened with, that is not one of them,” I say, and I’m not sure how she turns redder, but somehow, she does. “I couldn’t tell you the difference between Lord Summers and Lord Spring Flowers if my life depended on it. Surely this is your arena.”

She stares at me, considering my words, and I wonder if this might work. If I might manage to convince her to afflict some other hapless fool with this painful task. She blinks and nods her head, and my shoulders sag with relief.

“You’re right.”

“Perfect. Then I’ll leave you to it,” I say, and turn on my heel, attempting to escape like my boots have been doused in oil and lit on fire.

“In that case, I’ll put you in charge of the deliveries,” she says, her voice pitching up at the end, and I freeze. “There will be dozens and dozens of them over the next week. Flowers. Fabrics. Food. Wine. Someone will need to figure out where it all goes.”

Slowly, I turn around, exhaling a paper-thin breath.

“Apricia—” I cut myself off at her glare, which suggests she’d gladly scoop out my spleen and serve it as an appetizer drizzled with butter. “Your Majesty. I am already quite busy with the king’s security. Surely someone else can do that.”

My teeth are grinding so hard I’m going to wear them down to blunted nubs. My gaze darts to a Fae female who stands off to the side, her hands clasped and her lips folded together as though she’s trying to restrain a laugh. I think I remember her from her interview a week ago, and I feel rather sorry for her that she got the job.

Who is she laughing at? Me? Apricia? She looks up, and our gazes meet before she quickly looks away and covers her mouth, her narrow shoulders shaking. I decide that, yes, she’s laughing at Apricia and is sympathizing with me, because only a masochist would ever take Apricia’s side.

The snapping of fingers draws my attention back to the golden menace currently making my life hell.

“No, it makes perfect sense. You’re already in charge of who’s coming and going, managing all the extra deliveries is only logical. See that it’s done.”

She spins around and starts firing orders at her maids. I wonder if that means I’m dismissed. I want to protest that I really don’t have time for this, but I’d be a fool not to seize my chance to escape. I’ll discuss it with Atlas. Until now, I’ve resisted going to him with his future queen’s demands, but I’m truly at my wit’s end.

Ducking out of the room, I breathe a sigh of relief. Somehow Apricia’s voice manages to follow me through the palace until I’m far, far away from her wing. Even then, I can hear her nattering like it’s been tattooed on my brain.

After a while, I double back and head down a dark hallway, making my way to the entrance of Tyr’s tower. When I arrive, I check again, but the coast is clear, the hall as silent as always. I pull out my keys and unlock the door. I don’t have anything for him today—this is a spontaneous visit. I just feel the need to say hello.

I close the door behind me and then wind my way up the stairs. Tyr sits by an open window when I enter. His eyes are closed as he allows the soft breeze and warm sun to land on his face. I can’t remember the last time I saw him do this. I’m not sure if he knows I’m here, but he remains still, so I take the opportunity to study him for a moment.

I recall those years that feel like a lifetime ago when Atlas locked him up.

Atlas and Tyr’s father, Kyros, chose to descend after the Second Sercen War, making room for Tyr to take over. Aphelion suffered many catastrophic blows during the battle that Kyros took personally. He wasn’t the same after the dust settled, and I think he was content to let his son take over while he descended with their mother into the Evanescence to put the pieces of himself back together.

Despite those failings, he was a good king and wherever he is, I hope he’s at peace.

Tyr named ten new warders as part of his ascension, including me. I’d trained for it for years, knowing this was my only future. I had no name and no family, only the memories of my childhood to haunt my waking dreams.

My father had been an abusive piece of shit and a mean drunk whose favorite pastime was pummeling and then raping my mother. He’d lock my twin brother and me in the larder when he was angry so he could hit her in peace without—as he so eloquently put it—“our sniveling making his dick soft.”

After he’d knock her out, he’d start in on the two of us. We tried to shield one another, but it was no use. We were so small, and he was a cruel, broken man.

One day, he lost control. He went too far and killed my mother and brother. I fought against him, cracking a chair over his head. I still don’t know how I managed it. It knocked him out, and I finally saw my chance to escape. I hated leaving my mother and brother, but there was nothing left I could do for them.

I lost myself in the woods, where I wandered for weeks, alone, hurt, and hungry, until King Kyros and a hunting party stumbled upon me when I tried to ambush them with a stick. I had little idea of how to forage for sustenance myself. I’d found some berries and mushrooms and other smaller items, but I was too scared to eat most of it, never knowing which bits were poisonous.

I lied and told them I was all alone. It was mostly true. I didn’t know if my father still lived, but for all intents and purposes, my family was gone, and I was utterly solitary in this world.

When I was ordained as one of Tyr’s warders, it was both the end and the beginning of my life. While I was now a servant with no autonomy of my own, I also would never want for any comforts in this life again.

Atlas ruled at Tyr’s side for many years, but I could sense he was always on edge and couldn’t quite settle in his role, constantly wanting to do more. He hated that he didn’t have the same destructive powers as his brother, having to content himself with his more docile illusions. He’d also never gotten over the way he’d been rejected by the Heart Princess all those years ago, even if there was almost no one left alive to remember it.