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Chapter 11
The next morning was a lazy one. Daybreak happened long before either of us rose. When we finally woke up and began planning for the day, we found breakfast had long ago been brought by a kitchen worker. My stomach growled loudly, but Mrak insisted on testing the delivered breakfast to make sure it was safe before I ate so much as a berry.
Mrak set down both cups of tea, apparently satisfied neither had been poisoned. “I know this may not be necessary now that you are a shadow demon like us, but I still want to be careful.”
I wrapped myself in bedsheets. They felt weird now against my body. Still smooth and soft, but I could feel the larger parts of my larger form as they slid across the sheets—even while I was shaped like a human.
I dug into the fruits first. “I appreciate it. I don’t think we can afford to throw caution out the window just yet.”
“Agreed.”
We ate in easy conversation, punctuated by laughter and a relaxed air unlike anything I’d ever known. Not with Mrak or without him. I supposed as a child I might’ve once been carefree and at peace, but that childhood had been stolen from me as a teenager, and in the years since then and now, I’d been a feeder, a pact, and now a shadow demon.
Thesewere the first moments of my new life, and I loved every single minute of it.
The rest of the morning passed quickly with breakfast, followed by Mrak and I exploring each other leisurely again. By the time we were both on our backs, breathing heavily as we came down from our pleasurable highs, it was nearly noon, and Mrak was ushering us out the door.
Today’s agenda: walking amongst our people. Which I was looking forward to, except for one surprising thing.
Karn was missing.
“He left early,” Mrak said as he handed me a letter that had arrived, sealed, with breakfast.
“To go where?” I was under the impression that this palace might have been the only safe area around with all the attacks Sylas was leading.
Mrak inhaled sharply as we walked through the palace halls, heading for the courtyard where his people would be resting. “To Sylas, I fear. At least, to his advisors.”
I stopped walking. “Why would he do that? That’s dangerous at best, suspicious at worst.”
“Karn and I both agree the violence must stop,” Mrak said without skipping a beat—or a step.
I began walking again to keep pace with him. “And what if he just crawls right back to Sylas? Don’t you think it’s weird he’d go from advising you, to your brother, then back again?”
Mrak crushed the letter in one hand. “I believe that, like all career politicians, Karn is after what’s best for him rather than the kingdom he serves. Which is why I know he didn’t go back to side with Sylas. He went to plead with Sylas’s advisors against more violence.” Mrak then hesitated and frowned. “I would much rather settle our differences with talks and negotiations. As would Karn. But I don’t believe that’s possible.”
“Your brother is a tyrant,” I said. “A violent one at that, so says everyone who’s ever spoken of him to me. If Sylas is moving in on Earth for materials to help him conquer not only Kithonia but Earth as well, there’s nothing and no one to reason with anymore. He’s delusional.”
Mrak shook his head. “No, he’s brave. And calculating. Because conquering everythingispossible, and he’s just enough of an egomaniac to make it happen.”
I nodded and tried not to say,I told you so.“That’s exactly why the time for talking is over. Although I admire Karn’s attempts to keep doing so.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” But Mrak didn’t sound convinced of it. It was strange seeing him like this, so undecided and unsure. Before Kithonia, I could’ve sworn I’d never see Mrak as anything other than strong and confident, a king far from his throne. A shadow demon willing and able to take anything and everything he wanted.
At least from a mortal woman.
I took his hand in mine. “I don’t want to be right, Mrak. Violence isn’t good for either side. But we’ll probably need to make a stand. It’s the only way to remove a leader like him.”
Mrak nodded. Ahead of us, sounds of laughter and conversation drifted in from the courtyard. “Our people wait for us. Let’s walk amongst them. Help where we can. Listen where we can’t.” Mrak sounded nervous about the prospect.
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you worried they still fear you?”
“I think that’s worn off some since the refugees arrived.”
I squeezed his hand. “They’reyourpeople. This is the perfect chance for them to get to know you. You can’t be the only person ever to have made a bad choice, or even a handful of them. I know you’ve got goodness in you, Mrak.”
Mrak kissed my forehead and wrapped an arm around me. He held me close. “You are more than I deserve.”
“Oh, believe me,” I said. “It’s the other way around.”
