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Conreth had sighed. “Eavesdropping, were you?”
The boy just stared sullenly at him, waiting.
“Regner has been paying close attention to the way people behave. To their thoughts and fears. Particularly when those people are struggling to survive.”
The boy frowned, confused, and Conreth waved his hand. “The way someone worships their gods—and the gods they choose to worship—is a personal choice for most. But a clever ruler will use religion to play on their emotions. Their desires. And their fears. They will promise either eternal happiness or the avoidance of suffering—here or in the afterlife. You will find it is surprisingly easy for someone to use a population’s fear of the unknown—and their poor education—to control them with lies.”
“But I don’t understand. We’re not hunting humans. And the gods aren’t keeping us from their borders. The humans came forus.”
“Humans have always been wary of fae. We’re stronger, longer-lived, more powerful. They’ve always wondered when we would become a threat. And Regner used this wariness, stoking it into fear to confirm that they should be afraid.”
“It’s not fair.”
His eyes flashed. “No, it’s not. But it won’t be forever, Lorian. One day, the humans will understand.”
Time dragged on. The boy reached seven winters, and then eight. The small amount of power his uncle had left him continued to grow as he matured. He was big for his age. Fast and clever. While the court had a natural cautiousness of the prince—and his wicked temper—they also began to respect him.
Others his age were drawn to him. He was often found brawling with everyone from the courtiers’ sons to the stable hands. He cared nothing for propriety or rules about who he should be spending time with, and the fae loved him for it.
Lorian reached nine winters. He didn’t see his brother as often anymore. And when he did, Conreth was often watching him with a strange look on his face.
Until one night, when Conreth came to his rooms. Something that hadn’t occurred for years.
“You’re sending me away,” the boy said. He wasn’t stupid. He’d heard the whispers.
“It’s for your own protection,” Conreth said.
“Father would never have sent me away.”
Shame flickered in the king’s eyes, but it was gone in an instant. “Father isn’t here.I am, Lorian. And this has to happen.”
“Why?”
“You’re too fast and too strong to be trained here. Your power is dangerous. If you stay, you could hurt someone. But there’s someone who can help you.”
All the boy heard was that he was too much. Too much, and yet not enough.
“You’re special, Lorian. You could do incredible things for this kingdom. For me. But you need to be trained.”
“Who will train me?”
“His name is Galon.”
* * *
Lorian hauled me with him, marching away from the tent.
“I’d ask what you were thinking, but you can’t have been thinking at all if you’d meet with my brother alone under a blood vow,” he snarled.
I threw out my foot and tripped him. Even with his natural fae grace, Lorian stumbled, shot me an irritated look, and regained his footing. At some point while he’d charged out of the tent, he’d regained his human glamour. Part of me mourned the loss of his true form.
“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” I muttered. Conreth had already made it clear he wasn’t happy with whatever Lorian felt for me.
Incredulous silence. I waited him out.
“I owe my brother everything,” he finally growled. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate him playing his games with you.”
I opened my mouth, but Tibris and Demos fell into step with us, clearly eager to hear all about Conreth.
