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As it is, we manage to make our way to the throne room. Outside of the doors are two guards. To my surprise, they aren’t demons. They’re fairies. More than that, they’re female fairies. One of them I recognize as a woman who tries to flirt with me. Suddenly, I’m very glad that I didn’t give in to her even when I was lonely, or sad.
She would have killed me in my sleep, I bet, and all for Wyatt.
The guards turn and notice us. Rose moves to spin the amulet, but it’s too late. The charms aren’t going to work when we’re this close to other people, anyway. They’re more effective when you want to sneak up on someone: not when you’re standing directly in front of them.
“You!” One of the fairies says, and she lifts a dagger and throws it. Rose and I dodge the knife and I throw one of my own. It hits the fairy in the chest and she falls, clutching the dagger. The other fairy looks at us, drops her knives, and runs.
Rose looks at me, silently questioning whether I’m going to kill her or even hunt her down, but I’m not. I won’t. Not this time. Not like this. There has been enough death today. One fairy dying is already too much. Who knows how many others Wyatt has killed over the years? I think back to friendships that have waded away, to people who silently vanished from the castle, and I think of all the excuses he made to me about it.
He would tell me stories about places people went. He would say they quit, or they got sick, or they had an ill family member that required tending. Sometimes he’d make up fantastical stories, but something tells me that all of that, every bit of it, was fake.
Every bit of it was a lie.
Every bit of it was designed to keep me in the dark about my own kingdom.
And the embarrassing thing is that it worked. I should have known. I think it’s obvious that I should have known. I should have realized what was happening. What kind of king doesn’t know that his advisor is a huge asshole?
I failed my kingdom, but I’m going to make up for it right now.
I march to the doors, look over at Rose, and nod.
This is it.
This is the moment.
I don’t know what we’re going to face when we walk through those doors, but I know it’s not going to be good. No matter what happens, no matter what comes after this, at least I’ll know that I did everything I could to redeem myself. I don’t want my legacy to be one of fear and pain and loss.
I want people to remember me as the king who tried.
Rose comes up beside me. I look at her, and when I do, I see more than just a random lady I met in a dungeon. She’s not just a girl who tried to save her sister. She’s a woman who is fearless. She’s a woman who has an endless supply of courage. She’s got more than enough to share. When I look at her, I know that she believes in me. That in itself is its own reward.
That in itself is enough to give me the strength I need to keep trying.
I push the doors open and I step inside.
THE THRONE ROOM IS usually a sort of empty place. I don’t spend much time there. Why would I? I have enough to do around the castle: signing papers, working on documents, helping citizens with their questions. Sitting in the throne room is something I only do for ceremonies, so it’s a bit of a shock when I walk into the room and see that it’s packed.
Only, it’s not full of citizens.
It’s full of demons.
They line the walls of the room. There must be fifty of them. Maybe more. They all turn when I walk into the room, but they don’t move. They don’t flinch. They don’t try to hurt me and they certainly don’t run away.
“Oh shit,” Rose says beside me.
She’s right, too.
Shit indeed.
She spins the amulet and vanishes from sight. I don’t think Wyatt saw her. His own amulet is hanging from his neck and I can see him clearly, so I know he hasn’t spun his own. He’s too cocky for that now, or perhaps he’s waiting until he’s ready to kill me. Then he’ll spin it and be able to attack me without consequence.
I know that the demons definitely didn’t see Rose vanish. They’re much too focused on me right now. They’re much too intent on staring at the man who used to be their king.
The two rows of demons continue along the length of the room. At the opposite end of the room from the door we entered through is a large throne. There’s only one. There were two, long ago, but I had Cheryl’s throne removed after she passed away. It seemed strange to sit alone in the room. It seemed cruel.
Now I’m not surprised to see that the throne is empty. Wyatt is sitting there. He’s wearing white robes and his wings are out and spread. They’re white, like the pale color of his hair, and they glisten even in the dim light.
“Ah,” he says, smiling at me. “I wondered when you’d arrive. Please,” he motions to the room. “Do come in.”
