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I tucked my phone back into my pocket and made my way to the elevator. While I preferred the stairs, one didn’t keep a king waiting.
I was soon back on the first floor, making my way down the grand hall that led to the throne room, an arched, stone entryway guiding my path. The Edorian throne room was something else—a room that never failed to impress. The ceilings were as tall as a cathedral’s and vaulted in the same ornate manner. A long carpet of red and white with gold trim traveled to the large, stone dais where the king and queen’s thrones sat; the seats gold and upholstered with crimson fabric.
The throne room wasn’t my destination, however. I stepped up to the ornate wooden door to the left behind the dais, glancing down at the golden knob carved with the Edorian royal seal. I squared my shoulders, then knocked.
“Come in, Lucas.” The king was the only person who called me that. I opened the door and entered.
The soft sounds of jazz greeted me as I entered the king’s private office, a mournful trumpet playing over a slow-tempo rhythm, upright bass, drums, and a sparse piano accompanying it. I paused for a moment after I shut the door, listening carefully.
“Miles Davis,” I said. “Elevator to the Gallowssoundtrack.”
The music was the perfect accompaniment for the moody interior of the room. Despite it being late in the morning, the curtains to the office were closed, the only light coming from the fireplace. The room was simply appointed with a few bookshelves against the walls, and a small but ornate desk on the far side of the room. A pair of high-backed chairs were in front of the fire, one of them occupied by the king himself. I could tell he was in the middle of contemplating—something he’d been doing quite a bit of recently.
“Very good,” Alaric said, his voice low and calm. “Can I finally consider you a fellow fan?”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just hard not to pick up on your favorites.”
King Alaric Jenson, Lord Protector of Edoria, rose slowly from his seat. The man was tall and trim, the silver hair on the top of his head as neat and close-cropped as his beard. His face was slender and sharp, eyes flashing with the quick, canny intelligence that I well knew he possessed. He was dressed in dark slacks, dark loafers, and a white dress shirt, a sports coat with the royal emblem on the breast draped over the back of his office chair. His style was simple, yet elegant.
He stepped over to me, offering his hand. I was a tall man, but even so the king loomed large. As we shook, Alaric patted me on the back with his other hand. His wedding band was still on his ring finger, a gold signet ring on his pinky. The king carried himself with a sort of poise tinged with a touch of self-importance.
“It’s good to have you back, my friend,” he said.
“Pleased to be back, especially with the news I have.”
He nodded, gesturing to the other chair in front of the fire. “Sit, please. I cannot tell you how eager I am to hear what you have to say.”
I moved silently into the chair, easing into the plush fabric as I let my eyes drift onto the fire. Alaric did the same.
“So,” he said. “She’s here.”
“She’s here. Up in the chambers near mine on the fourth floor.”
Alaric said nothing, letting the news sink in. I couldn’t imagine how he felt. While I didn’t have children of my own, I had no doubt that seeing his daughter after so long was something he’d need time to wrap his head around.
“Tell me… what is she like?”
My first thoughts were ones that I most certainly had to keep to myself. Ava was sexy, wildly inappropriate, and, on top of it all, totally unprepared for what was to come.
“She’s… like her mother.”
“Oh?”
“Both in terms of looks and personality. She is strong-willed. And very, ah, modern.”
The word was a pathetic euphemism, but I had to ease him into what to expect as far as her personal appearance was concerned. Part of me wanted to go upstairs and try to talk her into at least taking out that damned nose ring. I could only imagine what a battle that would be.
“Modern?”
“Well, she is a young woman from the United States.”
“She’sfromhere. And Edoria has not escaped the touch of the modern world. One look out of the windows of this room at those towers downtown would tell you as much.”
“I understand. And while I am certain that her heart is Edorian, there is much about her that is American, through and through.”
“You are speaking unusually cryptically, Lucas,” he said. “Is there a reason you are being so careful with your words?”
“You will find out soon enough, Your Majesty.”
