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He’s diabolical. A twisted man who is only going to grow more desperate as the clock runs out and he loses his Kingdom. To me. To her. To Etrix.
“Father,” I greet, knocking on the door frame. The door is open, but he’d be furious if I just walked inside. Another trait of his narcissistic personality, and a way for him to punish me for failing to meet his standards of perfection.
“Eirik,” he says, standing up to greet me. He’s taller than usual, and I hold in my smirk knowing that he’s wearing lifts in his shoes.
Etonik Farglory is about 5’10”, which makes him shorter than both of his sons. It’s something that very few would care about, but he’s absolutely mortified about it. Lifts have been a statement piece in his wardrobes since the day I got taller than him, too, and they seem to get larger and larger all the time.
My father has chestnut brown hair that is shoulder-length and a little curly. His icy blue eyes, the ones we both share, show his disinterest, even if he’s got that charming smile in place.
“Where is your brother? Did you not come with him and his new… mate?” The hesitance before saying the word mate is a cruel trick that I know will anger Etrix, and honestly, it pisses me off, too.
I normally toe the line with him, desperate to not rock the boat, but this has my magicae tensing as if preparing for a smackdown.
Unlike my passionate soul mate, however, I’m more than capable of retaining my magicae.
“No, I thought I’d come early so that I could network,” I say, and he nods in approval.
“Well, your brother won’t be far behind, I’m sure. The party has already started, and people are raring to meet her.”
“Party?” I ask, feigning confusion. “Weren’t we doing a small family dinner?”
“Did you not get my new card?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Oh. I got Aria to send you the new plans. Silly woman must have forgotten. She said that if it were her, she’d want a grand entrance, so we decided to do that for his little mate.”
I hold in my eye roll, biting my inner cheek to stop myself from saying something I shouldn’t. We both know he’s full of shit. The pompous ass cares very little about Etrix, and probably knew that the party would have Zoe on edge.
He locks his computer and stands. He grabs the suit jacket from the back of his chair and puts it on. He adjusts his cufflinks—likely the symbol of the crown, but I can’t be sure—before grinning at me.
“Okay, do I look okay?”
The suit is perfectly tailored to him, just like mine, but where mine is coloured based on my ability to access the four elements… his is gold. He’s so desperate to be something he’s not, and it’s embarrassing.
“You look great, Dad.” But I lie through my teeth to keep the peace.
He nods, and the two of us leave his office. He locks the door, not as if anyone would dare snoop, and leads me through to the ballroom. I greet each guard we pass, but he barely looks in their direction.
Fucking prick.
“Announce us,” he demands, and the young woman at the entrance fumbles around with the cards in her hand.
Eventually she must find the correct one because the look of relief on her face is immense. I hate how little he cares about our people.
“Amplificare,” she whispers, and I smile when I see the blue magicae. She’s an air witch, like Ryes. “I now present King Etonik Farglory of the four elements and his successor, Prince Eirik Farglory, also of the four elements.”
There’s applause as we enter the room, and immediately Queen Aria comes running over with Titus. It amuses me to no end that he’s wearingformalguard wear rather than actually being invited as a guest.
Darkinu, the guard I was chatting with earlier, was wearing a laid back version. Titus has on the blazer, the different accessories to indicate he’s a fire witchandthe hideous hat.
I’m not petty, not usually, but this just seems right.
“Eirik,” Aria greets once we descend the steps, and I give her a tense smile. Her chestnut brown hair is braided around her head, a delicate crown in the centre. She’s wearing a red dress, nothing as impressive as Zoe’s, and the golden accents are definitely something my father forced upon her.
With a button nose and delicate features, I can sort of understand the appeal, but her mere presence sets me on edge.
No, it’s worse than that.
Her existence makes me feel ill, everything about her disgusts me, and I can’t pretend otherwise.
“If you’ll excuse me, Father,” I say, ignoring her completely, and he nods even as her face falls.
