Az
Ihate visiting the Central Palace. As children, my brothers and I would each be required to spend a number of seasons here in the Capital, experiencing my father’s court, and all the drak shit that comes along with it.
Here, there’s so much more pomp and ceremony than back home.
Sure, my brothers and I are royalty, and that comes with all kinds of trappings.
But, by and large, the people of the Northern Principality do not look at us with such awe and reverence like they do here.
Here, they almost put my father on the same pedestal as one of the Goddesses.
Which is a fucking ridiculous notion – a male deity? Internally, I scoff at the thought.
There are multiple palace staff members waiting for us as we all exit the cruiser.
They’re neatly lined up in three long rows, all dressed impeccably with rich velvets, beaded glow stone embroidery, and gilded thread.
There’s not a hair out of place or an uncapped horn to be seen, as they all bow in unison at our arrival.
The whole thing makes me miss Gordina and her sassy mouth.
After we are greeted – me with my full name and title – we follow along behind a group of four footmales, all striding in unison down the polished marble of The Great Hall, passing by holographic portraits of many of my male ancestors.
Occasionally, one of the past kings will move ever so slightly.
They have King Kaelor hold up one of the many treaties he famously signed.
King Xavaron swirls his fingers around the floating representation of a DNA strand, indicating the advances in artificial womb technologies that happened during his reign.
The only thing King Lorvax is known for is his extravagant feasts and his love of female company.
I think perhaps my brother, Zann, has inherited Lorvax’s spirit.
Still, I do not like the way his eyes follow my Lois as we walk by, a knowing smirk forming on his holographic lips.
When we pass King Gahaari’s space on the wall, the frame is a black emptiness with only his name plaque and brief explanation beneath it. ‘King Gahaari, the King who abused the trust of his people for personal pleasure, corrupting the foundations of Xaviann matehood forever’, it reads.
“I’d love to learn more about all these monarchs,” Lois whispers as we continue to follow the palace staff.
At first, I have the urge to tell everyone to stop so I could indulge her right this second. But then I think better of it. “You should ask Glex to tell you about them. He will enjoy explaining each King’s virtues at great length.”
She grimaces at first, but the expression tapers off into a giggling nod.
After The Great Hall, we step into the connecting room, which makes me stop walking and groan out loud. I’d forgotten about this room. “Do we have to go this way?” I call after the royal staff. “There are literally a hundred other routes through the palace. We don’t need to go through here.”
“Why, what’s through here?” Lois asks, stepping up beside me to take a look.
Someone – one of my fucking beloved teammates claps me on the back. “It’s The Hall of Scions,” Ral says gleefully, pushing past me into the room.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. There’s no stopping them now. “It is a hall to show off all of my father’s many princes and princesses.”
“Oh, my God,” Lois says, stepping forward, her eyes bouncing around the room at the plethora of holographic portraits. “It’s like stepping into a living baby photograph album. You need to show me which ones are you.”
I cross my arms and grunt. “Good luck. My father has sired fourteen princes and seven princesses, if you can identify-”
“This one! This one has to be you!”
I drop my crossed arms and stride up to where Lois is excitedly pointing at a portrait of a very young Xaviann child, the lower half of his face covered in pureed root vegetables as he laughs at his image being captured.
My Aunt Zalora took that image and sent it along to my father for it to be processed as a hologram and hung in this hall.
I doubt he was present when any of these images were captured.
“How did you know that was me?” I ask, completely confused.
“My horns haven’t even fully come in yet in this one. ”
“Because I know just how much of a messy eater you are,” she murmurs, a glint in her eye that suggests something wholly inappropriate right now.
I clear my throat and adjust myself in my pants, ducking to whisper in her ear, “How do you feel about skipping this dinner, finding my father’s throne, and me eating you on it? Hm? I’ll show you how messy I can get.”
“Az!” she exclaims, shoving me lightly in the chest.
“That wasn’t a no.”
“Ha!” Zevan blurts. “Is this one you, Princey?”
We catch up to him, passing what seem like images of all stages of mine and my sibling’s lives.
When I see the holographic image he’s referring to, I roll my eyes and huff.
“Yes. That adolescent male with questionable fashions, experimental hair, hormonal skin, and horns he is yet to grow into, is indeed me.”
The image shows my former self, holding up the cup from my very first junior drakball league win. My smile is closed-lipped, and I vaguely remember it’s because my fangs had descended for the very first time a few days before the game, and I hadn’t yet learned to control them.
“Aw, you look so happy!” my Lois says, touching my arm as she smiles at my younger self.
Maybe I never fully learned to control my fangs after all because – fuck me – do they ache right now.
Someone clears their throat at the other end of The Hall of Scions – a few palace staff members politely reminding us that they’re leading us to my father.
* * *
The Grand Dining Hall is as it always is. My father would make us eat with him in here on our visits, even though I know he prefers to take his meals in the much more relaxed royal chambers.
The table is central to the room, sweeping and long.
In its entirety, I’d say it’s about the length of an adult drak’s wing, and can seat a dizzying amount of guests on either side.
Everything in here is dark – the polished wood of the furniture, the very few floating lighting orbs sparsely dotted around giving off a warm amber glow, and the heavy curtains blocking out any outside light that might infiltrate the darkness.
As I grew older, I’d started to wonder if that darkness was by design. Would it woo my father’s dinner guests into comfort? Comfort enough for murmured words about their court dealings? Comfort enough to be persuaded on a matter for our lawmakers?
I do not know. But if that is the case, I hope my Lois can use it to her advantage and get Glex to listen to her people’s plight with a sympathetic ear.
He sits opposite me now, smiling and tilting his head to hear my Lois better.
Unfortunately, it made sense that she should sit beside him if she’s to bring him to her cause.
Even more unfortunate, Zyre is seated to the other side of her.
No matter. He seems to read my warning glares for what they are every time he ducks his shoulder to talk to her.
I very nearly insist that we rearrange the seating when the palace staff announces my father’s presence, and we all stand to bow for his entry.
“Welcome! Welcome!” my father calls, lifting his arms for his maleservants to relieve him of his heavily embroidered cloak. “I am so pleased to receive you all this evening. Please, be seated. We will fill our bellies with good food and wine, and fill our minds with even better conversation!”
With that, chairs scrape across the floor as we seat ourselves, the tablescape filling with the low murmured voices of around five dozen guests.
“I am very glad you accepted this invitation, son,” my father says to me as he sets his linen on his lap and readjusts the jeweled silver wine goblet of his place setting. “I know how busy you usually are.”
I assess him for a moment, not sure if that was sincere or a comment on how I always make a point to avoid him whenever I can. Deciding I cannot conclude either way, I simply state the facts. “Lois wanted to come.”
His astute eyes flick over to where my female is successfully engaging Glex in conversation. “Hm, yes,” he says, tilting his head as he regards her. “These humans do certainly seem like a particularly persuasive species.”
I roll my eyes and swipe my drink as soon as the cup is filled. “Kiahn and Niska are doing well, father, thanks for asking.”
He works his jaw as he stares at me, both of us knowing full well he didn’t ask, and wasn’t about to.
My father then does something I’ve never seen him do before – instead of coming back with a chastising remark, his shoulders sag, and he lets out a long sigh.
I glance around the table to see if anyone else had just witnessed the same, but it’s at that moment that the meals arrive.
My father’s strange behavior seems to have gone unnoticed as everyone’s preoccupied with whatever thrice-glazed meat served on a bed of roasted, spiced vegetables just appeared before them.
When I look back at the king, he’s already meeting my eyes. There’s a softness to them that looks completely foreign on his features.
“She would always make the most of her double set of horns, you know?” he says, making my mind come to a sudden, crashing halt.
I can feel my brows pinch together as I frown.
“Of course, being a female, hers were more dainty than yours,” he continues. “But she was ever so proud to carry that trait. She had these certain horn caps that had strings of beads and golden chains that looped between all four of her horns.”
“I remember.” The hoarse words had been mine from my very own mouth, but I’d said them without thought.
The king smiles a real smile.