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“I know, I know. It’s hard watching it though,” she said.
I tried to look past Shavarra, to process my own muddled thoughts. Her arm brushed mine as she walked near me. Her presence was welcome, even if it only made me feel less alone in the moment. Shavarra and I shared one thing. We both cared for Dace.
Chapter7
Milo
The dining hall was empty as I walked beside King Windre. There was nothing but the tall-backed chairs, polished to shine like diamonds. Light from the Fae firelight that radiated from the extravagant chandelier practically glared off the furniture. It was blinding in comparison to the dark condition of the dungeons.
My boots dragged against the floor with the weight of the shackles that bound me. Again, a first for me. I breathed in the warm scent of dinner, not yet placed on the table, but the aroma was already escaping the kitchen. My stomach growled, but the meal wasn’t what I longed for the most. The King had actually done well keeping me fed and as cozy as could be expected in a cell. What I wanted was to sit on furniture. Walking up here, I was convinced that I had forgotten what it felt like to not be poked in the ass by uneven stone.
King Windre’s manicured hands wrapped around a chair and he gently pulled it away from the table. He waved his hand in offering. I shuffled forward and lowered myself into the seat. A groan of pleasure tried to bubble out. I trapped it by pressing my lips together into a satisfied smile.
King Windre cleared his throat, reaching into his pocket as he seated himself. “We have received a word back from Princess Maggie. Would you like to hear it?”
What a stupid question. Of course I want to hear it.
“Yes.” I leaned back into the chair, letting my sore muscles relax.
The paper was still folded neatly, hardly creased, as King Windre slipped it out and opened it up. He glanced between the letter and me for a moment.
“Have you read the letter already?” I finally sighed. I wasn’t one for dramatics and if we were mostly being honest with each other, I’d prefer that we just skipped it altogether.
“I have.” He nodded.
“Okay. What does it say?”
“‘Dear Milo, as you know I am always seeking opportunity and advancement in my own court. I would be pleased to hear whatever you could offer me. Please write back as soon as possible. I will be waiting on the edge of my seat.’”
“Isn’t that lovely,” I purred, letting my head tilt back and my dark strands fall away from my face. The princess wanted her father's crown and she would play into my plan quite nicely. By the time it was all unraveled, I would be free.
“That it is.” The king hummed as he looked beside me and gestured at the servant, Fae, not Nymph, who had followed us in. I watched the Fae step forward quietly and place a slip of paper and a pen in front of King Windre. Staring down at the wood grain, King Windre folded the large, billowy silk sleeves of his robe up his forearms. Then he took the pen. His attention switched to me expectantly, I could feel his eyes on my skin even with my own eyes closed.
I cracked open an eye and sighed.Never a moment of peace.“Are you looking for me to continue to tell you what to write? I would think a king with a higher level of education would be better at posing the question than I.”
“Yes, but it needs to sound more authentically like you.”
“Weren’t you writing her letters while I was trapped behind bars?” I pulled myself forward and folded my hands on the table. The metal cuffs scraped the wood.
“It was really only one letter and I had someone else who reminds me of you write it.”
“Alright then.” I licked my dry lips, tasting the dirt that covered them. I’m sure I look appalling sitting at this nice dinner table covered in filth. Peeling my hands off the table, I checked to make sure I didn’t leave behind some sort of ring. “What about, ‘Dear Princess, there is opportunity for allies and the backing of the Acture Court in your rule should you find a way for the crown to be yours rather quickly.’ There, is that good enough?”
“Sure, it’s without tact and incredibly casual. Sounds just like you.” His smile fell as flat as his eyes as he fanned the paper in front of him.
After a moment, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes again, listening to the sound of the paper being folded in half.
You just have to man up Milo. Fighting against the queen all this time has done nothing good for you. You’re finally doing something good for yourself. Even if it’s bad for everyone else.
Stop. Don’t think about that though.
The warmth of a body was near my left arm, their shadow falling over the light that was giving the back of my eyelids a reddish tint. I blinked as the servant set a glass of red wine in front of me.
Just what I need, to get drunk.
“It’s nice to not be down in the cell,” I admitted, picking up the chilled glass. The crimson colored liquid sloshed against the sides, my thoughts turning to blood as I watched it spin around the cup.
“I thought you would enjoy having dinner with the rest of us. Randsin won't be here, of course.”
