Freed from Gravity (Bound and Freed #2)

Chapter 54

Fifty-Four

SENAN

As soon as these pompous assholes vote, the first thing I’m changing are these chairs. The seats are hard as hell and don’t get me started on the angle of the backs. I swear, they force you forward until you have no choice but to lean your elbows on the table.

That’s what the seven other men sitting in the king’s privy chamber are doing, hunching and glowering toward where I sit at the table’s head. I refuse to do the same, so my arms are folded over my chest as I scowl right back. Of course, it’s nothing compared to Aeron’s scowl where he sits to my right, not at the table but close enough for everyone to know whose side he’s on. That man could bring winter to June with his glacial looks.

“This is most irregular,” Counsellor Windell says, his jowls swinging with each syllable.

“Most irregular?” another counsellor blusters, his face red as a beet. “That man murdered our king! He should be swinging from the gallows, not sitting at the head of this counsel, wearing the fucking crown.”

The others scoot their chairs away from him like he’s a bomb about to detonate. I can’t help but like him a little more for his righteous indignation. At least he has the bollocks to stand up and fight for what he believes, unlike the rest of these sniveling weasels who would rather nod and acquiesce in here and then conspire to assassinate me the moment they step out of this chamber.

Aeron assured me that the law is on our side, so this meeting is a formality at best. Plus, Counsellor Windell and I have some unfinished business to attend to.

It’s been a week since he led Boris’s farce of a trial that sentenced the woman I love to death, and I’m afraid this is a grudge I cannot move past.

Windell shoots the man a dark look. “Calm down, Cormac. Prince Senan has a right to decline an official coronation.”

“I believe you mean King Senan,” Aeron corrects with a sneer, bracing his hands on his knees as he eases forward with menacing slowness.

Apparently, I don’t need a coronation to be named King of Kumulus. Given all that’s happened in this castle, I find it in bad taste to throw a big party for people I despise to come and pretend they’re happy I’ve ascended. Maybe in a few months we’ll organize an official event, but for now, I’d rather get started fixing all the shite that’s broken.

There’s more work to be done than I could have ever imagined. Not only did Boris collude with Cadoc Carew to distribute tainted dust, but also he filled the pit with fae who have publicly spoken out against him. There is no end to his dirty dealings and the seedy characters he was in bed with—and almost every single one of these bastards in front of me is on that list.

The color leaks from Windell’s face as he nods. “Right. Of course. Forgive my slight, King Senan.”

I lean back against the stiff chair, but the angle makes it impossible.

Enough is enough.

I push to my feet, my arse relieved to be free of that infernal board. “I don’t think I will.”

Windell glances at the rest of the counsellors, his eyes widening. “Excuse me?”

“As of this moment, you have been removed as a member of my counsel and are no longer welcome in this castle. It’s customary to thank you for your service to the previous king, but I would prefer not to start my rule with such a blatant lie.”

Windell shoves back from the table, his black robes shuddering. “You dare speak to me with such insolence?” He turns to the other men, who have all bowed their heads, refusing to meet his gaze. “I have been on this council for over a century.”

Yet another reason to kick him out. No one should hold power for that long, and that includes kings and queens.

I don’t even try to bite back my smile. “Then it sounds like this retirement is well deserved.”

He does not like that comment one bit, and if this table weren’t between us, I imagine he’d be doing more than seething. “I demand a vote.”

“All right. All those in favor of Counsellor Windell’s retirement, please raise your hands.”

The men exchange glances, and one by one their hands lift into the air, all except the angry one who cursed at me, and I like him a little more.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You thought I was asking you . I was actually asking my council for their vote.”

Aeron pushes from his chair, stalking over to the double doors and swinging them aside.

Allette steps in, her cerulean waves shimmering like a waterfall over the shoulders of her silver gown. She’d been hesitant to accept a position, but once I explained that I couldn’t do this without her, she’d given in. She is full of brilliant plans to help the Tuath, not only those in the burrows, but also those in the factories and dens. I cannot wait for the kingdom to see the good she’ll do.

Braith and Iver drift in next, followed by their father Harold Nightingale. Last to enter is a man I’ve had mostly negative interactions with. Not because of him, but because of me. Gerrard Tolken, the city’s lead addiction counselor. When I showed up at his doorstep asking if he’d like to assist us in our venture to help those struggling with stardust addiction, he’d nearly choked on his tea.

Unlike the kings before me, I made the decision to diversify our table in order to better serve the people of Kumulus. How can we hope to make the laws fair if we do not have representatives from all walks of life?

“Well?” I ask. “Do any of you want Lord Windell on our council?”

Not one hand lifts.

Windell sputters as he takes in the new medallions around their necks. “The law states that any new council formed must include a sitting member of the previous council for at least a year.”

I turn toward the angry man at the other end of the table and smile. “What do you say, Cormac? We have an opening if you’re interested.”

“Are you mad?” Windell throws a hand toward the man in question. “He hates you more than all of us combined.”

I imagine he only hates me because he does not know me. Either way: “If this is to be a fair council, it’s imperative to have opposing viewpoints represented; wouldn’t you agree, Cormac?”

Slowly, the man nods, remaining in his seat while the others throw their medallions onto the table with grumbles and curses as they stalk out of the room to where guards wait to escort them from the castle.

They’ll be followed until we’re certain they are not a threat to me or those I love, and if they so much as set a toe out of line, there are plenty of free cells in the pit.

Allette takes the seat to my right, and the others drop into their chairs as well.

Aeron drags his chair closer, the legs screeching along the marble. “I really don’t understand why you had to go through all that trouble when sending a letter would’ve been more efficient.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Every man on Boris’s council agreed to damn me for my mistakes, and I wanted to look them in the eye when I told them to fuck off.

Vindictive?

Yes.

Worth it?

Absolutely.

Something moves in the doorway, and I turn to find my littlest brother waiting in the gap, his face solemn and eyes downcast. The poor lad has been at a loss since he woke. I wish I knew how to help him. “Come in, Kyff.” The last thing I want is for him to feel unwelcome.

He drifts over to my side, casting a wary glance at the table of faces unfamiliar to him.

“What is it?”

“Boris—” Tears flood his eyes, but he quickly swipes them away with his fist. “ He used to make me come to meetings, and I wasn’t sure if I still had to.”

Will there ever be a day when I stop cursing Boris Vale? I take both of his small hands in mine, squeezing his fingers three times. “From now on, your only job is to be a child.”

“What does that mean?” he sniffs.

His quiet question breaks my heart in two. Excusing myself from the table, I keep Kyffin’s hand until we’re out in the hallway with only the breeze and the sunlight to overhear us. “It means I want you to go play.”

His eyes glisten anew, round as saucers. “You don’t want me with you?”

“I always want that, Kyff. Always. And if you want to join us in that stuffy room and sit on a chair that’s going to make your arse hurt, then you are more than welcome. But if you want to do something else, then I encourage you to do that instead. Believe me, if I could be out playing, I would.”

Sniffling, his lips turn down. “They do hurt your arse, don’t they?”

I chuckle. “So much.”

He straightens a little, and his head lifts. “When you’re busy, I don’t have anyone left to play with.”

“What about Dahlia?”

I returned to the burrows a few days ago to visit those whose lives had been devastated by Boris’s unprovoked attack. The little girl and her mother had no extended family, and her husband was the sole earner, working his whole life as a blacksmith. When I offered a room in the castle, Dahlia’s mother initially refused, but yesterday they arrived to the gates with their bags in tow. They’re now safely ensconced in the south tower along with another ten families who were displaced.

Kyff’s nose wrinkles. “She’s a girl.”

“So?”

“So, she doesn’t even know how to hold a sword.”

“Then teach her.”

His teeth drag over his lip as he considers. Suddenly, his wings appear at his back, and he nods. Without another word, he starts for the balcony. Once he’s out of sight, I click my fingers at one of the guards further down the hall. He leaves his post to keep an eye on Kyff. After what happened with Nimbiss, I refuse to take any chances with my baby brother’s safety.

Right.

Back to work.

Silence greets me when I return to the privy chamber. “Let’s get this meeting started.” I nod toward Iver. “What news from Dread Row?”

Braith’s brother folds his hands atop the table. “Carew’s offices are still empty, as are the mines beneath the Row. Our patrol at Serpents’ says the place has been closed since you were crowned.”

If that’s the case, then I’ll need to send someone out to find the men and women who were employed there to ensure they have means to earn a decent wage.

When I say as much, Cormac’s gaze bounces between us, the wrinkles across his brow deepening. No doubt, he’s wondering what sort of loon acquired the crown. I’ve had the misfortune of attending a handful of council meetings in the past and they always seemed such dreadfully boring, formal affairs. We don’t have the time to waste on formality—and even if we did, that isn’t how I want my council to operate. Formality creates distance, and with that distance, disconnect follows.

The meeting continues with Gerrard bringing his suggestions for rehabilitation centers in the abandoned homes across the city. His plans are all well and good, but as a man who has been forced to sit in those centers on more than one occasion, I have a few insights of my own. “You need to make them a place people want to come to. Sanctuaries with free meals. And for the love of all that is holy, do not make them smell like stale coffee.”

This isn’t a problem that can be solved in a day. It’s a war we’ll be fighting for years.

I swing toward my girl with a smile. “How is the initiative for those employed down at the dens?”

Allette sits forward, bracing her folded hands against the table’s edge. “Not every person was interested in leaving, but we have about twelve who desire a different life.”

At least that’s something. And if we can show the others that there is a solid alternative, perhaps they will follow suit.

“Their biggest fears were housing and financial support. I thought perhaps we could use my aunt’s tower, convert it to apartments for affordable housing alternatives.”

I twist toward Iver. “How difficult would that be?”

The Tuath’s grin is a flash of white. “As long as we have access to the sun, it shouldn’t be hard at all.”