Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Kai
The collared shirt I throw on is scratchy and uncomfortable, making me suddenly miss the days when I was young, and it was socially acceptable to run around half-naked.
Though, that’s ever stopped me from doing it now.
After slipping on one of my only pairs of shoes not currently caked in mud, I stride over to the door.
I pass messy shelves that threaten to tip from the weight of far too many books, my desk that is currently covered in documents I’m avoiding, and the four-poster bed jutting out from the wall, the cause of several stubbed toes and incessant swearing.
Sighing, I close the door on the comfort of my room, wishing desperately that I could dive onto my bed and sleep through dawn.
Alas, duty calls, and it’s best not to keep him waiting.
I shove my hands into my pockets as I stroll down the white halls leading to the throne room.
Late afternoon sunlight streams through the windows lining the corridor, causing the ornate paintings on the walls to glitter in the golden light.
Far too soon for my liking, I round the corner and nod to the guards standing outside throne room before pushing open the heavy doors.
“Ah, Kai. It’s about time.” Father’s deep voice echoes down the vast length of the throne room.
Its walls are decorated with large, wide windows draped in dark green silk—Ilya’s kingdom color—accompanied by the sculptured molding crawling up the walls and onto the ceiling.
Currently, a long wooden table resides in the middle of the polished marble floor where the king occupies the chair at the head.
“Good, you put on a shirt.” He sighs but I see a slight smile in his eyes. “I considered telling the servant to add that detail to the message he gave you.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Father, I won’t make the mistake of showing up to the throne room without a shirt. Again.” I memorize the hint of a smile on his face, not knowing the next time I’ll see it. The next time I’ll earn it.
He’s a brutal man, a Brawny who is strong physically as well as mentally.
He’s stern, stubborn, and set in his ways, so seeing him offer even the faintest of smiles has me involuntarily returning a faint one of my own.
Our dynamic together has always been difficult to say the least, but in moments like these, it’s easier to ignore our unpleasant past.
He clears his throat along with any emotion on his face.
And there’s the father I’m so used to.
“I have a mission for you as the future Enforcer.”
“I live to serve,” I answer flatly.
I live to kill.
My life means the end of someone else’s.
The types of missions Enforcers get sent on are anything but heroic.
I’ve had dozens over the years, all part of my training to become the future executioner, commander of armies, and right-hand man to the king.
Everything from battle strategies and executions to interrogations and torture fall into my line of work as the expected Enforcer.
All glimpses into my bright future.
“My informants know of a family harboring an Ordinary near Loot Alley,” Father continues, sounding slightly bored. “I need you to investigate and eradicate the problem.”
Eradicate equals execute.
After the Purging, when the Ordinaries were banished to the Scorches to protect Ilya from their disease, the king decreed that any remaining Ordinaires found in the kingdom would be executed.
Three decades ago, he offered them a chance to survive if they could cross the Scorches and reach the cities of Dor and Tando on the other side where they would be no harm.
But the king’s mercy only lasted that day of the Purging, and I now deliver death on his behalf.
“Of course,” I say, running a hand through my hair and over my set jaw. The action doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Kai.” He looks at me, almost gently . I haven’t seen that look since I was a boy, and even then, it was a rarity reserved for the few times I pleased him during my training.
“No one envies the job of the Enforcer. It’s brutal.
It’s bloody. But the Plague has given you a rare gift.
Your ability as a Wielder is very powerful, and you’ll serve this kingdom well one day.
” He pauses before adding, “I’ve made sure of that. ”
He has indeed.
Training has been my whole life, my whole purpose.
Rather than having a single ability to manifest and master, I’ve spent years learning how to control dozens.
But I honed my body as much as my abilities, becoming a weapon myself.
How to use and kill with every weapon at my disposal has been ingrained into my brain—a reflex I have refined.
But I can’t take all the credit. No, it’s the king who made me what I am today.
The king who took it upon himself to aid in both my physical and mental training.
After learning my weaknesses, he ensured they were eradicated.
And while I’ve learned to block out most memories of the training I endured as a boy, I can do nothing to ignore the image of my father’s cool face paired with the same chilling words I’ve heard all my life.
“If you cannot endure suffering, you are unfit to dole it out, Enforcer.”
I’ve fought in battles, initiated interrogations, and conducted torture all while Kitt sat in on countless meetings, devised treaties, and spent his days beside a kinder king than the one I know.
His days consisted of education, tutoring, and far more pleasant time spent with the father he loves so much. As the heir, Kitt’s always been guarded, protected, and even getting him out into the training yard with me when we were boys was no small feat.
When I look back at the king, his green eyes are already pinned on me.
Kitt’s eyes. After Father’s first wife died while giving birth to his son, he married the daughter of a trusted adviser.
Unsurprisingly, he quickly fell in love with my mother’s caring and kindness, her bravery and beauty.
I look like her, with my dark hair and light eyes, just as Kitt takes after Father, both green-eyed and blond.
I clear my head, tucking thoughts of the past away until the next time allow myself to dwell on them again. My voice is dull when I finally ask, “When do I leave?”
Those exact words poke at a memory, reminding me how na?ve I was when I asked them before my very first mission. Not knowing that I would become a murderer that day. Not knowing I would watch a man crumple to the floor in a pool of his own blood.
“At dawn.”
* * *
Dawn came far too early for my liking, and before I know it, I’m making my way to the stables.
The large, white barn casts an even larger shadow in the early morning sunlight. Each wall is lined with stalls where the horses nibble on hay, looking up at me curiously.
My gaze slides over the two Imperials standing to my left, accompanied by three horses saddled for the journey ahead of us.
I grit my teeth. The king pulled two guards from the rotation on Loot Alley as a safety precaution, though I’m more than capable of handling this on my own.
But it seems that in a single night, Father has suddenly grown to care for my well-being.
It’s only taken nineteen years and the fact that I am now valuable to him.
I shake my head and mount the horse closest to me, swallowing my pride enough to admit that it’s wise for Imperials to be with me in the case of a banishing.
The trip to Loot is a long one, and we pass the time in utter silence. Streets slowly turn to slums as we head further into the city, and I could smell the large market alley before reaching it.
The familiar scent of fish, smoke, and other mysteries welcome me as we head onto Loot.
The echo of our horses’ hooves clopping down the uneven cobblestones bounces off the walls of rundown shops lining the street.
A few early risers dart out of the way, making room for us as they point and whisper.
We turn left down a smaller street jutting off the main alley and head for a small, wooden shack. I hop off my horse without hesitation and stuff the reigns into the gloved hand of an Imperial, letting him deal with securing the animal.
If they must be here, they might as well be useful to me.
I stride to the door, slipping a hand from of my pocket to knock. I hear a thud from inside, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps before the door swings open, creaking on its rusty hinges.
A huge, burly man with a thick beard and even thicker hair stares at the scene before him. I’m surprised he can fit through the doorframe. His blue eyes widen under his bushy brows as he looks between myself and the two Imperials now flanking me.
“Prince Kai…?” The man looks astonished and flustered all at once. “Hi, er, what an honor!” His falsely cheery voice carries down the street, likely waking his neighbors as he reaches out to offer a handshake.
His grasp is firm and calloused, much like my own.
“Nathan, correct?” He nods, and I continue, “I had a few questions to ask you about an Ordinary found here in Loot. I’m sure that’s not a problem.
” I watch him closely, searching for any indication that he knows what I’m talking about.
Nothing. His face remains utterly expressionless.
“Mind if we come in?” It’s not a question and he knows it.
I already have my foot over the threshold before he steps away from the door.
The house is no bigger than my bedroom back at the palace.
On one side of the room, small beds are pushed together and lined crookedly against the wall.
The kitchen resides on the other half of the room, equipped with a rundown sink, a chipped wooden counter, and a large table surrounded with two wide-eyed boys and a woman.
A large, faded rug joins the two sides of the room, the only decoration and splotch of color in the house.