Chapter 4 – Kian
Chapter Four
KIAN
“You have got to start taking your role as prince seriously, Kian,” my father, the king, drones on in his condescending manner. “If you won’t settle down, I’ll make you.”
“You can’t be serious, Father.” I groan, covering my face with my hand.
“I’m dead serious. You’ve had your fun—you’ve traveled the realm—now it’s your turn to fulfill your duty to the crown.”
I sit up straighter, uncovering my face, and glare at him across the table overladen with delicacies. “I’m just the spare, Father. What duties could I possibly have?”
His dark grey eyes meet mine as he spears a piece of fruit. “You may not be my heir, but to keep our kingdom strong, you will do your part.”
My eyes follow the fruit as Father gestures at me with his fork. It’s just about to fall off when he shovels it into his mouth; the disgusting slurp makes me want to flee the table.
“I’m not convinced your brother will provide an heir, so we need backup. Just be glad I’m not shipping you off to another kingdom,” he says with his mouth full. “Thank the gods our alliances hold strong.”
I’m going to be ill. Everything about this man sickens me—from his eating habits, to his policies, to the cavalier way he discusses my brother’s painful lack of living heirs, though he and his wife have been trying for the past eleven years.
I’m glad Colin’s not present to hear it.
Father adds another pile of food onto his plate, and I bite my tongue.
Doesn’t he realize our people are suffering while he has a meal large enough for twenty laid out on this table?
My stomach flips unhappily. Maybe I really am going to be sick. I push my plate away.
“Just spit it out, Father. Do you have someone in mind?”
“Cary Astoria is hosting a ball in celebration of his latest conquest. I’d like you to attend in my stead and survey your prospects. I believe his daughters have yet to be bound.”
A painful ache in my chest distracts me from my upset stomach, and I rub at it, as if the touch could somehow soothe it.
“Oh, so you’re saying I get a choice in who I wed?”
The king points his fork at me again. “Don’t you get ahead of yourself, my boy. I will step in if you fail to do what I ask. You must be bound by the end of the season.”
My jaw drops. That’s not nearly enough time.
Trying to appeal to his rational side—if ever he did have one—I soften my shoulders, hoping to appear less intimidating. “Father, are you certain it must be so soon? Colin and Juliana are about to have their first child, and I would not want to take away from that grand celebration.”
The king snorts while some of the juice slides down his chin. “We’ll see.”
Unable to stop myself, I start to reprimand, “Fath—”
The word fizzles out as he fixes me with a glare. “I’ll consider it, but you will attend that ball and you will dance with all of the eligible maidens there. Understood?”
I clench my teeth to keep the snarky response inside and give him a curt nod instead. “May I be excused, Father?”
He waves his fork at me again, and I rush out of the room. How my mother ever put up with him is beyond me.
I make my way to the training yard, hoping to work off some of my pent-up frustration.
“In a rush, aren’t we?” I pull up short and turn to my best friend, Alex, who is leaning against the side of the courtyard wall, his dark skin gleaming under the lamps.
“Perfect timing,” I drawl. “Ready for an ass-kicking?”
“You wish,” he retorts, examining his nails. “I have a little time before my next engagement though, so I’m happy to watch Master Waylen kick yours.”
“Remind me why we’re friends?” I tease as I continue toward the training room. We’ve been thick as thieves ever since his father, the ambassador from Maardune, came to court five years ago.
Alex catches up and matches my stride. “Because I’m so incredibly charming and your best excuse whenever you need one.” I think there’s a note of hurt in his voice, but I shake it off. Surely I’m imagining it.
Jabbing him with my elbow, I joke, “Sure you don’t want to reconsider? You’re getting a little soft.”
A gleam of challenge lights up his eyes, and he flexes his arm. “You jest. I trained just last week.”
I roll my eyes. “Exactly. Consistency is key, Alex.”
“Not everyone wants to have rock-solid abs like you, Kian.”
“Just keep telling yourself that.”
After a grueling training session with Master Waylen and even convincing Alex to get sweaty, I make my way back to my wing to freshen up. I have important plans, and it’s going to be a late night.
After my failure at House Astoria, I’m more than anxious to find another lead. Gods willing, I’ll find something to guide me to the next step in my quest, but first, I have a small caravan to rob.
Clad from head to toe in black, I take the servants’ passages out to the stables without seeing a soul. My glorious onyx stallion nickers happily as I sneak him a treat before readying him for the evening ahead.
Phantom’s coloring is dark as night but for the white crescent moon on his forehead. I dip my fingers into a pot of kohl, covering up his distinctive mark as always. Thankfully, Father has a stable full of black horses, and no one will be the wiser if we’re spotted.
Once Phantom is bridled, saddled, and ready to go, I mount up and race off into the night.
Father let slip that a small caravan of grain, fruits, and vegetables is arriving tonight, so I just need to catch it before they make it here. There are so many starving families in our city, and if he isn’t going to do anything about it, I sure will.
I have to admit, I’m slightly angry my brother, Colin, doesn’t seem to care about the people he will eventually rule.
He appears happy to enjoy all the wealth our kingdom has to offer and ignore the plight of those he considers beneath him.
I had high hopes his wife would be a good influence on him, but so far, nothing has changed.
Why do I have to care? Life would be so much easier if I could just enjoy the privilege I was born with and spend my days in the company of good women, fine food, and drink, but no. Something within me says, “Kian, you must do more.”
The darkest part of me wonders if an “accident” should befall my father or brother so our kingdom could be in better hands. Perhaps Colin’s child will grow up wiser.
I shake my head. Regicide? Really? I’m not that horrible of a person, am I? No. Killing must be a last resort.
I gallop down the king’s road and into the forest, hoping it’s not too late.
I have very little time to get into position before the caravan is supposed to arrive.
The forest is eerily dark and quiet when I slow Phantom to a walk.
Perhaps I’m an utter fool to attempt this thievery all on my own, but the last thing I want to do is bring someone else into it who could possibly be caught and put to death.
Nor am I willing to trust someone else to keep this secret.
I made sure to spread rumors about a party I’d be “attending” this evening to avoid any suspicion. Luna willing, my ruse will hold.
Pulling out a long skein of fishing wire, I string it across the road. It’s practically invisible in the dark, and the wagon’s lanterns are not likely to catch it. Step one complete.
I retreat to Phantom and settle in to wait, pulling out my water flagon and drinking deeply.
A yawn escapes me, and I reach into my saddle bag for some of my herbs.
Chewing the somewhat spicy blend, I’m instantly more alert when they kick in.
Thank the goddess Galyna that Margot, my favorite healer, told me about this stuff.
Before long, the rumble of the caravan filters through the trees. It’s small enough that I should be able to handle it on my own—should being the operative word. Two wagons pass by, and I tie my black mask around my head. Immediately, I’m more at peace. I’m ready.
There are four guards accompanying the wagons, two of them riding ahead and two behind. They should reach the trap in . . .
Three.
Two.
One.
The first two horses neigh as their riders are flung off their backs, the invisible wire taking them out. Just as I planned, the horses take off into the night, spooked by their invisible foe. I chuckle to myself. Like taking candy from a baby.
The wagons rumble to a stop, their drivers looking around frantically. I jump off Phantom and silently stalk toward the fallen guards. Stunned and disoriented, they don’t even put up a fight as I slam my fist into their temples one by one, knocking them out.
Now for the other two. Shouts ring out through the forest as I sneak between the wagons.
One guard’s back is to me, and I leap onto it, throwing my arm around his throat and pulling tight.
He slumps to the ground, and I duck as the almost silent zing of a sword zips over my head.
Shit. That was way too close for comfort.
I roll to my feet while pulling out my own sword, and it meets the guard’s with a clang.
“You’re not gonna get the better of me, you thieving piece of filth,” the guard taunts as we parry. His blade slices toward me and nicks my arm. I hiss at the sting but then quickly spin and have my blade to his throat before he can blink.
“Should I let you wake up with a roaring headache, or do you want to die tonight?” I ask, lowering my voice to a growl. He doesn’t need to know I’ll do everything I can to avoid the latter, but I have a reputation to uphold.
When he refuses to answer, merely glowering at me in the moonlight, I scoff. “All talk and nothing to back it up, eh?” I slam the hilt of my sword into his temple, and he crumples to the ground.
All in an evening’s work. Now the fun part.
“It’s him, I tell you,” one of the drivers says excitedly. “It’s the Shadow!”
I make my way toward the front of the wagons, my sword casually in hand. “Gentlemen, would you like to fight me before giving up your goods or just hand them over?”
“We don’t want any trouble,” one driver says, “but we can’t just give them up. We have families to think of. If we just let you take them, the king will punish us at best . . .”
My face splits into a grin, but I continue, “Here’s my offer. Help me load up the biggest wagon with as much variety as it can hold before I tie you up with the king’s imbeciles, who don’t have to know you helped me, or—”
“We’ll take the offer,” the drivers say in unison.
Throwing nervous glances my way, they hop down and get to work.
We move quickly and quietly, transferring as many supplies as we can into the lead wagon.
My job is significantly easier when the drivers cooperate.
Especially when they help me drag the heavy guards and tie them to a large tree.
I instruct them to muss their clothes and appearances to give the impression they put up somewhat of a fight.
After I tighten the rope around the last driver, my heart warms when he whispers, “Thank you, Shadow. We won’t forget what you’ve done. May the gods bless you.”
I tip my head at them, slice through the invisible wire, and hop into the loaded wagon. A shrill whistle calls Phantom, and he obediently trots behind as we take off toward the outskirts of the city of Elsmont.
There is something incredibly gratifying about stealing right from under my father’s nose.
But enjoyment aside, I will do whatever it takes to make sure my people are cared for, even if it means beating the hells out of some of the guards.
Most of them are selfish assholes, only out for themselves.
I have caught more than one lining their own pockets and bellies with the excess at the palace.
As the Shadow, I try to right wrongs, but I’ve made mistakes.
My mind flashes back to Mateo, the guard who drowned because of my miscalculation.
He was one of the few decent men working for my father, and I carry the guilt with me every time I go out .
. . every time I see the pain in his widow’s eyes or his smile lighting up the face of his child.
Ever since that night, I do my best not to kill unless they leave me no choice . . . but there’s almost always a choice.
Once I leave the wagon at one of my random drop points, I hop back onto Phantom and start toward my next stop.
All my research has led me to one name. Cary Astoria.
The laughable part is, I’m not completely sure what I’m looking for other than information, and with Lady Raelyn catching me last night, I was unable to complete my search.
Gods, I hope she didn’t recognize me. If she did, I’m in deep, deep shit.
The absolute last thing I need is for Cary to have something to hold over me.
His finances are in shambles, and I know he’s looking for a way out.
It appears said way out is marrying Lady Carlisle, if the marriage agreement I saw is any indication.
She’s a power-hungry widow, clearly unaware of the Astorias’ financial status, and I shudder at the thought of her digging her claws into that family, especially the green-eyed beauty I had on her back.
Lady Raelyn. I grin thinking of the soft feel of her curves beneath me. Will I be so lucky to see her again tonight? No. I shouldn’t tempt fate. I have a mission to accomplish, and she would only get in the way again.