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Nevertheless, I let her lead me to a chair before I sat down. A few moments later, there was indeed food and drink coming in, placed artfully in front of me. I dug in, entirely aware my father had said nothing since I entered. He was just...watching us. Those dark eyes I’d inherited were incredibly sharp, like he could stare right through me.
Did he know I was stronger? That my mating bond was somehow bolstering me even though we hadn’t bitten each other? It wasn’t unusual for shifters to have a boost from a bond, but it required both parties to bite each other in their mating glands, a sign of mutual consent binding the two for the rest of their lives.
As much as I wanted that with Ayla, however, we weren’t there yet. It’d also be impossible to hide, no matter how good of a veiling spell Ayla cooked up.
“I’m so glad you’re back where you belong,” the queen continued while sipping her tea. I saw her eyeing one of the tarts in front of me, and I handed it to her. She shook her head and looked at my father.
I’d never wanted to throttle the man so much. He’d always been weirdly controlling about what my mother ate, except when she was with pups. He said he didn’t want her to indulge because it would be “unseemly”, but I saw through it. There was one specific reason he liked his wife incredibly slender, frail, and always hungry. It was entirely about power. Helikedhis control over her superseded sweet tooth, or even her natural desire to eat.
I hated it. I hated itsomuch, and I had to mentally clamp down on my pheromones as hard as I could. It wasn’t the time. But soon,soon, I’d have my mother free of his thumb, and she could eat whatever tarts or rich cuts of meat she wanted.
“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, my sweet. If you need one of our counselors to deal with the trauma you’ve no doubt experienced, we support you.”
“Thank you, mother, but I’m all right. I left of my own choice, and I do intend to return to the front lines and defend our country.”
I’d expected pushback, sure, but not my mother’s eyes reddening like she was trying not to tear up. “I know I’m not always the best with communication, Nikolai, but I don’t know if I’ll survive.”
Survive? What?
“Mother—”
“No, let me finish, please, my dear.” I snapped my lips shut. I wanted to protest, but I wasn’t going to treat her like my fatherdid. “After you left the first time, I could hardly leave my bed. It was two full weeks of crying, headaches, not being able to eat. I was just soscaredat any moment a courier would come in and tell me my one and only son was gone forever.”
She reached out and delicately, uncertainly, rested her hand atop mine. Guilt engulfed me along with a burning sense of helplessness. It seemed no matter what I did, my mother was collateral damage, pushed between my father and me.
What a cruel fate. Despite his abuse, she clearly loved my father, and despite my rebellion, she clearly loved me. But if our paths continued, as I anticipated they would, one day she’d be forced to choose.
I didn’t envy her.
“I know you’re a grown man, and from what I hear, an amazing leader, but think what it does to me to see you arrive smelling of turmoil and ash, with the weight of so many on your shoulders.”
“Being king would be even more weight,” I reminded her gently. “I’d carry the responsibility for all citizens.” I sent a pointed glance at my father. “Every. Single. Citizen.”
The tension in the room ramped up, like a cork exploding from a bottle after being shaken too much. But no one got a chance to react before a knock sounded at the door, and an attendant outside announced my Uncle Graham.
“Your Majesties,” he said, deeply bowing. “I received your summons.”
“Yes,” my father said, his first words since I entered. “Judging from my son’s requirements to leave his post, he described a rather dire situation at our borders. You travel through those lands often enough, so I wanted a more...experienced opinion.”
Thinking my pampered snake of an uncle was somehow more qualified to talk about what was happening around the fortwas laughable, but my father was purposely provoking me. He knew I couldn’t stand it when someone incompetent acted like they had authority—something which happened all too often in the court.
“I appreciate how our crown prince is so dedicated to the people of Camdaria, but his vision is likely clouded by that same affection.” I wanted to roll my eyes, or maybe just wanted to punch my uncle. Both.
“I do indeed regularly check on strongholds all along the border, crisscrossing our wide land. The war is well-contained, and no skirmish will ever even come close to the shining walls of Merrik.”
“That’s completely untrue,” I said sharply. “I have the records to prove it!.”
“Enough, Nikolai. You will be given time to speak.”
Would I?
My father and I weren’t on good terms, but there was a time long ago when I’d learned from him, when I’d looked upon him with admiration.
He’d taught me so many useful things when I was a child. Lessons I was grateful for, like earning loyalty through charm and support rather than brute force. Strange, considering how churlish and cold the king had become since, now almost like he a different person.
I remembered when I was a teen and just noticed the change in my father. I’d imagined some shapeshifter had taken his place, and there was a way to find my real patriarch and restore him to the throne. But with age, I understood it was his endless conquest for power, wealth, and safety, as well as his relentless pursuit of a pristine public image. All of it combined into a descent into self-service, with no regard for the people below him, no matter how much he faked it with his subjects.
Silence fell as my father and I locked gazes, each of our alpha sides flaring. It was a complete stalemate, and I was entirely tempted to throw all my plans away and just leap over the table, strangling my father right then and there.
