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Perhaps, I wasn’t as broken as I’d thought.
***
Dressed in burgundy, matching Sebastian’s suit, we made our way to dine with the king. “He doesn’t seem that bad,” I admitted as we walked down ancient stone steps. “Sargon, I mean.”
His stoic expression gave nothing away. “If you’re thinking about changing your mind, let me know now.”
“No, I’m not,” I assured. “I just don’t see the mad king from the stories.”
“You’ve only met him once.” Our footsteps echoed around us. “Against the judgments of Zach and Erianna, who despise him, I don’t actually hate the man. But, apart from denying me what I’ve asked for and putting aside his more salacious tastes, he’s not the worst king Sanmorte could have.” He side-eyed me. “Nor is he the best. His brother, Kalon, is far worse.”
I recalled our conversations at the house. “That’s who Nightshade serves.”
“Yes.” His jaw hardened. “He and Sargon are close, and he trusts his brother, for some reason.”
“Doesn’t the king know about Nightshade?”
“Yes, but he has his own order protecting him too—Midnight Lotus. Sargon doesn’t know Kalon has been making moves against him for the best part of a century.”
“So he wants the crown.”
“Yes, and that’s why he sent the order to find you and your mom. His plan was to kill you and capture your mom, giving her as a gift to his brother, hoping it would be enough to make him forget about his daughter.” He paused. “About you.”
“Was it?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“How do you know all this?”
He stopped us under the dim light of a lamp at the beginning of a long corridor, placing his hand against the wall. “I make it my business to have eyes and ears everywhere, including inside Nightshade. It’s how I knew they were going after you.” He looked around us and lowered his voice. “You’ll meet Kalon at dinner. Keep your wits about you. While Sargon may have claimed the power and inherited the charm and charisma from his mother, Kalon came out on top for intelligence. Everything that happens at court has Kalon’s hands in it. He schemes, unlike anyone I’ve met, and has a wicked intuition.”
My eyes widened, and I shuffled backward. I didn’t want to be around him if he was so dangerous, and suddenly the thought of being here felt like a dark cloud hanging over my head. “How can we make any move against my father if Kalon’s in the way? Surely, he’ll try to kill me once it’s revealed who I am?” I questioned, then quickly remembered that none of that would matter if my plan worked because I’d be far from here. I hoped. I chewed on my nails, my gaze darting around us.
“We need to get rid of Kalon first.”
“You left that out when discussing your plans with me! How do you expect us to take on two of the most ancient, powerful vampires in Sanmorte? You’re a three-year-old vampire, and I’m a fucking teenager, Sebastian.”
“You’re a sorceress,” he pointed out. “As you proved this afternoon, your powers are strong. Besides, when we find your mom, we can use her. She’s the only one who’s ever won against Sargon, and don’t forget about Erianna and Zach.”
“They have an army,” I exclaimed, then quickly lowered my tone. “It doesn’t matter, as long as we find my mom first.”
“I promised you we would. So tomorrow, it’s my priority to find out where she’s being held.”
I nodded and walked without him. He quickly caught up to me and placed a hand on my lower back. I flinched away, but as a door opened, I realized we were already at the private dining room. I wasn’t sure why I’d thought we would eat in the large banquet room with everyone else. This made more sense. A guard stepped aside as Hamza pushed past us, his eyes rimmed red with rage. He moved on down the corridor, not even looking back at us.
“He looks upset,” I said, but Sebastian didn’t answer.
“My king.” Sebastian swept into a low bow.
Sargon stood at the head of the table. “You’re late.”
I checked the time from the clock on the wall. “We were told seven. It’s ten to.”
Sebastian cleared his throat. “It’s customary to arrive an hour before.”
“You didn’t tell me.” I scowled but quickly smiled on seeing Sargon’s expression. “I apologize, Your Majesty.” The words felt odd coming from my lips. “It was my fault. I couldn’t find the right dress.”
The lines around his mouth softened, and he extended his hand, closing the distance between us in half a breath. “It was worth the wait, sweet one. You look beautiful.” I took his hand, and he brought my fingers to his lips, kissing them as he’d done yesterday. That must’ve been how he greeted ladies here. Then he embraced Sebastian, slapping him on the back with a very unroyal demeanor. “Please, sit. This is my brother, Kalon,” he said to me and gestured toward a willowy man with a groomed, black goatee, amber eyes, and red hair to match his brother’s, but his was cut short. He watched me, reminding me of a predator as I took my seat. There was a coldness in Kalon’s stare, which my father didn’t possess. It was calculating as he evaluated our every move, making me feel more vulnerable than ever.
