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“Exactly. What use is a Blade if she has no one to cut?” His jade eyes shifted to my back.
I pulled my shoulders backward and met his gaze straight on. “My assignment was to apprehend and question thefish merchant, sire. A task I completed in half the time the king requested.”
“About the Shadow...” Damien countered. “It was easily presumed that we want him dead. I think you’re just too scared after losing against him in Volcar. Perhaps you have finally met your match?” He sauntered across the room and stood beside his father.
I clenched my jaw. I had been attacked by the Shadow during a scouting mission in the western city of Volcar. I had not expected it, which in itself was a kind of defeat, but he had not bested me. We fought for minutes before he abandoned the fight by jumping off a rooftop and onto a moving cart below. He escaped, which meant it was a draw at best. Though I did not draw with anyone.
“When we meet again, it will be the end of him,” I said.
“Then let’s make the assignment official. You are not to return to Koratha without this Shadow’s head in a bag.” Damien smiled wickedly at the command. My stomach lurched.
“If the Crown commands it,” I answered. Even though I was repulsed by the thought of doing anything that pleased the prince, I wanted the Shadow. I wanted to beat him and make sure he realized it just before I stuck my blade through his belly. Any more failures and the king would take my head.
“The Crown doesnotcommand it,” the king cut in, slamming his goblet on the arm of the throne. Droplets of wine launched into the air and pattered onto the marble floor.
“Father, don’t be absurd—”
The king raised his hand and silenced his son. I smirked.
“This Shadow is a problem, but we have bigger problems, my Blade. Mistress Hildegard has informed me that she has reason to believe Lord Curringham is aligning himself with the Dark Fae.” The king’s cheeks were now completely red. His alliance with the Dark Fae was tenuous at best after several attempts at killing them off entirely. When the Blood Wars ended and their numbers had dwindled almost to the point of extinction, the Dark Fae had agreed to sign a treaty with the king. They wouldn’t interfere with the Crown or the newfound kingdom of Elverath and, in return, they got to live out the rest of their immortal lives in the Faeland. Now that their last female had died, the Dark Fae could no longer pass on their magic. Their race was doomed to live out their immortal lives with the few Elves who had not met King Aemon’s blade.
“Both are our allies,” Damien scoffed. “Surely, this Shadow is of more importance.”
“They aremyallies, but the only reason the Dark Fae have not rebelled againstmykingdom is because they don’t have the numbers. I don’t plan on letting the bastards make deals with my own lords under my godsdamned nose!” the king huffed as he assessed his son.
“The Dark Fae would never move against you,” Damien said, waving his hand. “You’re their king.”
The king raised a hand to his temple and shook his head. “You’re a fool if you believe the Dark Fae have ever considered me their king.” A cool calm settled into the room. It reminded me of the moment before a raid. Just before the violence started.
“What use do they have with a crown?” Damien said with a shrug. “Their powers have faded. Their race is doomed.” He lifted a hand and studied his nail beds. His father scowled.
“You, my son, have already lived longer than any Mortal before me, but your decades are nothing compared to that of the Fae. I have lived centuries, but there are Fae still breathing who have lived near tenthousandyears. As long as they live, they willalwaysbe a threat,” the king said, his eyes turned to slits as they trailed over the prince.
“You destroyed the Elves easily enough. Without the full use of their powers, the Fae are the same,” Damien insisted, though the color had drained from his face. He took a step away from his father’s gold chair.
“We only suspect the Fae powers have continued to fade. We have no one to confirm it while the treaty holds,” the king said, shaking his head. “And the Elves were defeated because they were anabomination. Non-magical children of the Fae were never meant to exist. They were unnatural. Vermin marked by the gods with their brown blood. Unnatural creatures are easy for the righteous to kill. The Fae will not be so easily wiped away,” the king said in a clipped voice. He toyed with the large gold ring resting on his middle finger. It was carved with the crest of a burning sword. The one he had used during the Blood Wars against the Elves, a cursed species that stole the lands of Fae and men. The king was rewarded by the gods for purifying the land with a year of life for every Elf he killed. Or at least that was the story he had the minstrels tell at court.
The king caught me staring at his ring. I straightened and turned toward the prince.
“Lord Curringham is not a threat. He’s the Lord of Flowers!” Damien chuckled, using the moniker he had given the lord as a cruel joke. The king’s jaw hung slack, and his chest raised higher.
I was not about to correct a member of the royal household, but Damien was wrong. Lord Curringham was perfectly positioned to be an ideal ally for the Fae. The king seemed to agree.
“Curringham might be an oaf,” the king said, “but he yields the largest harvest of any man in the kingdom.”
“He harvests corn and wheat,” Damien mumbled, slumping into the chair beside his father.
“Yes. The very things that keep this kingdom fed,” the king said, his knuckles turning white. “And now that the eastern orchards have failed, his are the only sources ofwinvrawe have left.” He picked up his goblet and chucked it across the room.
“Father,” Damien said, sitting up straight. He finally noticed the irritation radiating from the king. His eyes danced between the throne and me. “Maybe we should have this conversation alone.”
The king scoffed. “I’m sure my Blade is already aware that my son is too much of a fool to realize the very kingdom he expects to inherit may be primed to fall.” I froze, feeling the cruel eyes of the prince boring into my flesh. I took a deep breath and stared directly in front of me. I could hear my heart pumping in my chest; Damien would make me pay for that comment later.
“The Dark Fae are too weak to attack the Crown,” Damien insisted. His voice had turned into a quiet squeak beside his father’s.
“The Dark Fae enact plans overcenturies.” The king slammed his fist against the armrest of the throne. “Do not be tricked by their complacency, boy. It is a ruse just like any other. The Dark Fae may be few, but they are not without the benefit of time. They’ve been waiting for years—lifetimes—for the Crown to show a sign of weakness. It does not bode well that the Shades have heard whispers of such an alliance now.” The king grabbed the gold pendant on his chest and rubbed it between his fingers protectively.
“The Crown is as strong as ever!” Damien said, stretching his arms out beside him. He pulled them back when his father cast him a cold, disapproving look. I gripped my wrist behind my back and forced my jaw shut. The Crown was as rich as ever, but its people were hungry. With the right motivation, that unrest could spread like a fire across the entire kingdom.
