Chapter Forty-Eight
Ryker
Riordan was pacing outside the throne room by the time I arrived.
His jaw was tight, his boots scraping back and forth along the stone.
The grand mahogany doors loomed before us, but my brother wasn’t looking at them.
He was glaring at the two guards who stood ramrod straight on either side as if they might become the next problem he would have to solve.
“About fucking time,” he said the instant he caught sight of me. He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving it disheveled. “What business does father have inviting the Seelie into our court?”
“He’s up to something.” I shrugged, feigning nonchalance.
“Obviously,” Riordan said with a scoff. “He hates the Seelie more than he hates you and me.” I raised a brow in amusement, causing Riordan to glower at me.
We stood in tense silence, and for a single heartbeat, my brother’s mask fell away, his trembling hands betraying his trepidation.
My palms clenched into fists as I strode toward him.
Riordan flinched when my hands landed on his shoulders. “Whatever we face in there, never let them see, Little Brother.”
Fuck our father for making his own son fearful of him.
I pressed my brow to his, and Riordan sucked in a sharp breath. “No matter how unpredictable he may be, you never have to fear him again. I’d end his miserable life before he got the chance to lay another finger on you.”
If not for my promise to Riordan, I would have taken him from this cursed place the first time I caught our father beating him.
My brother straightened, giving me a curt nod. “Let’s go.”
We stepped up to the door side by side before pushing it open. The hall stretched before us like the gaping maw of a giant beast. Our footsteps echoed off the stone floors, sending them careening towards the vaulted ceiling that disappeared into the shadows.
My father sat upon his throne, his crown resting on his head. He hardly ever wore it, but when he did, it was to remind everyone who reigned over them.
Everyone but me.
He and I both knew who held the power.
An unfamiliar man stood beside him. His golden hair hung in waves to his shoulders, and his face was the perfect mask of serenity.
The Seelie messenger, I presumed.
My father’s eyes met mine, and his lips curled into what some might mistake for a smile.
“My sons,” he said, his voice carrying across the chamber. “How wonderful it is that you have finally joined us.”
Snickers broke out among the courtiers, but I ignored them.
“Is there a reason you have summoned us, Father? Or do you simply enjoy the sound of your own voice?”
Riordan stiffened beside me. His jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared, but he quickly schooled his features.
The instant the words left my mouth, the entire assembly froze. There was a collective intake of breath as those gathered waited on tenterhooks for my father’s reaction. He wasn’t known for his generosity, especially toward those who disrespected him.
Insulting my father publicly was akin to treason in the Unseelie Court, and it was not something he could afford to let slide. Allowing the insult to stand would make him look weak and undermine his authority.
But we’d been caught off guard by this entire display, and I had to throw him off balance to learn what game he was playing.
My father did not fly into a rage. His eyes narrowed as the lines of his face carved themselves into the mask of amused cruelty he wore in public. He let the silence stretch, building the tension. Then his features broke into a wide grin, and he leaned forward.
“You wound me, my boy. I thought you would have outgrown this rebellious stage by your age, but I guess some creatures never learn.”
His gaze flicked to Riordan, measuring the extent of his discomfort. A vein pulsed at his temple, and he splayed his fingers at his sides. The uncertainty gnawed at him, reminding him of a time when he was small and defenseless.
At that moment, I decided that my father’s end was imminent. Whether it be tomorrow or months from now, he would die by my hand.
Then my father threw his head back, howling with laughter. Nervous titters followed as the crowd sought to appease their king.
“Or is your sour mood because of that lovely wife of yours? Still having difficulties bringing her to heel?” he asked. Turning toward his audience, he said, “To be young and in love. When your greatest challenge is understanding what you have done to offend your woman this time.”
Chuckles rose from the crowd, but my gaze remained fixed on my father.
“No need to fret, Son, she will come around.”
His tone was mocking, and a sharp glint emanated from his narrowed eyes. I didn’t rise to meet his taunts. Let him save face in front of his sycophants. The true battle had yet to begin.
When he’d had his fill, my father clasped his hands together and returned his attention to me. “Now, as for why I’ve summoned you.”
His gaze flicked to the man beside him. “We have a special visitor joining us from the Seelie Court, and I thought it would be… instructive to show our esteemed guest the fruits of my legacy.”
Shocked gasps erupted all around us, but I kept my expression neutral as my father quieted the crowd.
“I know we have had our fair share of animosity with our brothers and sisters in the Seelie Kingdom,” he said. “But the Seelie King and Queen sent Mathias as their emissary to extend an olive branch.”
His gaze hardened as he turned towards his courtiers.
“The proposed trade accord serves the interests of both crowns, and it would be foolish not to consider it.”
Murmurs of agreement sounded all around me, and I knew the fae gathered inside the hall were thinking of the recent attacks on our food supplies.
“No harm will come to Mathias while he is a guest of our court. Any attempt will be viewed as treason and answered with death.”
The man in question didn’t even swallow as my father denounced any threat against his life. He simply stood with his arms behind his back, his gaze surveying the crowd as if he were bored.
My father let his words hang in the silence before his grin returned and he clapped his hands together. “Tonight, we will hold a banquet in honor of our guest, and I hope you all accept my invitation to join us. We are long overdue for some festivities!”
Squeals of delight and hearty applause followed my father’s words as his courtiers gushed over the evening’s events. Without waiting to be dismissed, I turned on my heel and strode toward the exit.
I didn’t need to look back to know my brother had followed me.
“And Ryker,” my father called just as I was about to cross the threshold.
My shoulders tensed, and I remained in place, but I did not give him the courtesy of turning around.
“Make sure you bring your wife, won’t you?”
Anger burned through my blood, but I refused to let him see his blow had landed. Instead, I strode from the throne room without a backward glance.
My thoughts whirled inside my head, and unease flared in my chest as I considered what my father could be up to.
Whatever it was, history had taught me one thing: I needed to be ready for anything.