Page 61 of Winter Gods & Serpents

“Why is the untamed beast on this table anyway,” Fren huffed, trying to wipe the liquid from her sleeves.

I scoffed, a highborn speaking to a royal in that tone would earn a lashing in the olden days. She would not be sleeping under this roof let alone dine with me had this been another king. “Well, three yellow trolls are allowed, one needs a rest from all the eyesore.” Leaning in I shot her a glare. “I might tolerate you for entertainment but talk like that about me one more time I will gut you. Better, don’t talk at all in my presence.”

“I am not scared of you. You know of your purpose as we all do, so don’t act so high,” Fren pushed head high.

“I don’t need you scared half-breed, the hunt is better with a dim-witted critter and so are the screams.”

Her mouth parted to retort back but she bit on her tongue. Suddenly she begun shivering and sweating, a cry trembling atop her lip.

“What is the matter?” Reuben asked his sister.

Slowly, Memphis slid around her middle and the brother screamed dropping from his chair.

“Call it off,” father ordered composedly.

“But I wanted to her scream,” I said, sulking. Sooner than expected Fren begun crying from her seat and I signalled my morph to retreat. “That was even better that I expected.”

“Father, she threatens us plainly, you are to do something,” Reuben urged him, attempting to calm his crying sister.

“Oh, grow a spine you balls for brains.” I called out, immensely annoyed now.

Uncle and Elias both begun coughing under their hands, the latter turned to me shaking his head barely withholding a smile.

Gathering a mountain full of food on my plate I made my exit, having grown annoyed at the staring and the talking. Father clattered his cutleries loudly on his plate when I made to exit, but did not say anything.

Malik and Cai followed silently while I made my way to the winter gardens, the plate in my hand and some more food in my mouth.

“Your father?” Cai asked, leaning to clean the blood coating my cheek while I sat on the snowy bench.

Malik confused, looked around the garden as if someone were to jump behind me at any moment.

“The whole lot today.” I raised my head to the damned skies. “You spiteful swellheads.”

“The gods at fault now?”

“When are they ever not in fault.” I stuffed my face with grapes, toast, and cheese till I found it hard enough to swallow that I coughed.

Malik motioned forward, and I laughed startling him.

“I survived your kind’s blades, a grape will not kill me dear,” I said, propping more food in my mouth and he pulled back.

He gritted his teeth, eyes dropping thoughtfully to the ground in front of him. I could almost swear I saw a flash of pity in that gaze. Pity, an emotion I detested wholeheartedly.

“Tell me Malik, did they celebrate after the attack? Killing powerless children, women and men must have been such an accomplishment.”

“No,” his voice flat in pensiveness.

“Oh, almost forgot they didn’t kill me, the disappointment.”

He assessed his thoughts before saying, “The king didn’t allow it.”

I scoffed. “But of course, he would be the first to mourn his failure.”

Mal shook his head. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Tell me then?” I asked, leaning onto my knees. “Why did a small piece of anonymous information I was told you received take matters to that extent?”

“A prophecy.”