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The king stands now, slowly. “You say you found him near the queen’s chambers?”
“I did.”
“And what was he doing?”
“Peering in the window.”
The king nods and walks around the table to the man. In defense of him, I attempt to pull him behind me. With my slight frame and his much more muscled one, though, it’s useless.
“Why were you looking for a queen, I wonder? This realm has had no queen for quite some time.”
“You must find him,” the man chokes out, his eyes on me. “Find Raff—”
Lloren grabs my arm and rips me back. “Hey! Let me go!”
“You know nothing of our customs. That man was looking to harm you.”
“No.”
The man forces a smile. “Find him,” he whispers, moments before Conary grips him by the hair and yanks his head up, pressing a blade I hadn’t even seen before to his throat.
“What the hell are you doing?” I try to rip my arm from Lloren’s grasp, but it’s no use. “Let me go! He’s a person!” I attempt to free myself again, but when I look at her hand on my arm, I’m taken aback by the colorful mist along her fingers. Is that magic?
“He’s a dirty rebel,” Conary spits back.
“Why are you here?” the king asks again, his voice level and eerily calm.
The man doesn’t speak.
“Just tell him!” I plead. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth your life!”
His golden eyes meet mine, and a soft smile plays at his lips. “I cannot, Your Majesty. Because it is.”
“You call a complete stranger Your Majesty, but not your own king?” Taranus clicks his tongue.
“She is of the prophecy,” the man replies. “But you are no king.”
Blood spills from his throat, pouring onto the floor as a deafening scream fills my ears. It’s not until I clasp a hand over my mouth that I realize it was my own. Taranus moved so fast, so precisely, that I hadn’t even seen the blade in his hand until now as he wipes it clean on the leathers of the dead man.
“What…why?” I choke out, feeling my stomach churning now, though it has nothing to do with my disease. “You killed him!”
“He’s a rebel who would have killed you.”
I may be new to whatever world this is, but, dream or not, I saw nothing but kindness in that man’s eyes, and I know, without a doubt, that he would never have hurt me. “He didn’t do anything,” I choke out. “He was helpless!” Hot tears stream down my cheeks.
“This is the way of our people, Ember,” Taranus says calmly as he takes his seat. “Please, let us continue eating. They will clean this up.”
Lloren takes her seat again, but I’m rooted to the spot as those who served us rush in with tears in their eyes as they clean the dead man from the floor. A woman sniffles.
“Are you not pleased there’s another dead rebel?” Conary snaps at her.
“Yes, of course. I merely wish he hadn’t ruined dinner.” She coughs to mask a cry, and I ball both hands into fists.
“I’m no longer hungry,” I growl. “I think I’ll just go to sleep.”So I can wake up and be free of this disturbing nightmare.
“You will go nowhere until the king releases you.” Conary steps up behind me, blocking my exit.
I turn, meeting his gaze head-on as a wave of nausea that has nothing to do with my disease hits me. “Unless you want to wipe vomit off your uniform, you’ll get the hell out of my way.”
