Chapter Fifty-Six Nox
I stare at the back of the guard’s head as he leads me to Kallin’s office, the handful of his companions following behind me drawing the gazes of the palace workers as we pass.
I don’t blame them for the fear their expressions carry.
I had harmed three of their own, and no matter my intent, no matter whether I was acting in my right mind or not, I was forever changed in their eyes now.
I doubted that would change even if they learned the truth of everything.
For days, I had been dragged back towards the Mage Kingdom against my will, drugged beyond clear or conscious thought for more than an hour or so at night.
Only then, when the man who attacked me would stop to rest, would he let enough of the herb he gave me fade so that I could hear him speak.
Just enough that I could comprehend what he was saying before he would pour more onto a cloth and force it to my nose and mouth, its bitter taste blanketing my tongue and throat until there was only a hazy darkness.
I became lost in the shadows I normally commanded, and I was powerless to stop any of it from happening.
I slept through most of the days, which was a blessing of sorts.
If I couldn’t fight back, then I was grateful for the opportunity to dream of all the ways I might shred this man—one who admitted to seeing Rhea with King Dolian—apart piece by piece.
My rage was an inferno confined to the limitations of my magic and body, both of which had failed me.
In getting Rhea back. In fulfilling the promise I had made to her to never let anyone take her from me.
Even though it pained me to accept the truth, during those long days when I was nothing more than a sack of flesh being pulled through the forest, I came to realize that Cass and Bahira and my parents had been right.
I should have waited to leave until I was stronger.
But between those barely lucid moments, I began to plot.
I knew that coming back here would bring a new set of rules from the council.
That it would likely usher in the removal of my father from the throne.
My actions had affected everyone but the person I needed to get to most, and I wanted to care.
Deep down, I know a small part of me does, yet it doesn’t change the fact that, the moment I am strong enough, I will leave again.
I will further toss my kingdom into chaos.
In the meantime, there is work to be done.
If I cannot leave to get Rhea, then I will make damn sure that I spend every waking second searching for those who hurt her.
Finding out who plotted against us and ensuring that the next breath they take is their last. And I have to start with the guard who found me in the woods.
The one who kept me bound and weakened, drugged except for the late hours when he would rummage through my pack and pull out Rhea’s diary.
When he would then read her intimate thoughts and feelings.
He had taunted me with them, reading entries from when Rhea was upset with me after I had threatened Daje.
When she had admitted she felt her magic morph into something ugly at the thought of me being with someone else.
When she had written about her fears of becoming queen and feeling unworthy of the role.
As he read, the guard had laughed, and I realized that there was a depth to rage I had previously not met.
I didn’t recognize him, and even now, his physical details are fuzzy.
But his voice… That is burned into my mind with a permanence I want to hate but am secretly thankful for.
I will find him—force Kallin to tell me who he is—and then I will make him tell me every single thing he knows about King Dolian.
About those in my own fucking kingdom that are working for the monster.
Once I have wrung every detail I need from him, I will kill him slowly.
Methodically. In a manner befitting the way he had hurt Rhea.
My temples throb with every step, matching their cadence as I roll my shoulders back, only to clench my jaw from the pain that radiates deep in those muscles.
My magic sputters within me, nothing but a tendril of shadow hardly enough to feel, let alone manipulate.
But, gods, how I have tried to muster more.
To pull at that fragment until I thought I might tear myself apart.
The only thing that answered was pain, one so bad that I begged Galen for something to ease it within me.
Even now, I can feel it taunting me like a call on the wind, a warning that it’s coming to consume me once more.
I have become a stranger to my own body.
“Councilman Kallin, Prince Nox is here to see you.” The announcement by the guard in front pulls me from my spiral, and I remind myself what information I need from Daje’s father. Kallin lets me in, allowing me to step past him and into the office I have always loathed.
“Your Highness,” he says in greeting from where he sits behind a dark brown wooden desk. His hands are stacked and resting beneath his chin, his dark eyes calculating as he stares intently at me.
He isn’t alone. Galen stands off to the side, nearly in the corner of the room. “It is good to see you up and moving about.”
I take the seat across from Kallin, biting back a wince when I press back into the chair. “It is good to be up,” I respond, crossing my ankle over my knee. “Though I am surprised that you have summoned me, Councilman. It was only this morning that we last spoke.”
“I knew your family would be eager to see you, and I wanted you to have time to visit them before things inevitably become a bit more hectic for you. Besides, as I told you over the course of the last few days, there is much work to be done.”
I fight back the instinct to curl my fingers in towards my palms at his words, instead forcing a bored look to my face. “What, exactly, do you have in mind?”
He takes his time answering as he studies me, Galen shifting back and forth while he waits.
“Public perception is an important element to keep tabs on for a ruling family,” he starts, letting his hands rest on the desk as he leans forward.
“If our people do not believe in the king—in those they’ve entrusted with the highest powers in the realm—then it will cause cracks in our foundation.
” His lips form a straight line. “If we do not have their trust, then we will earn their chaos. I have vowed too much of myself in the name of keeping this land safe to ever let that happen.” Galen nods at his side, joining his hidden hands in the large sleeves of his healer’s robe.
“I’m afraid the court of public opinion is at an all-time low for the Daxel family. ”
“My father has always put them first,” I answer calmly, despite the irritation that heats my skin. “Have they so easily forgotten the many decades of peace that not only he but his father and grandfather and so on have ushered in?”
Kallin’s brow arches. “It is easy to keep the peace when peace is all that you have. For centuries, we have been willing to let others fight out their differences while we—mages—kept to ourselves.”
“There are no threats now that there weren’t before.”
The councilman chuckles as he studies me, the sound condescending. “I think we both know that is no longer the case.”
I lay my hands on the armrests of my chair, my grip tight on the wood.
I glance at Galen, his own expression twisted into pity aimed directly at me.
“They can’t possibly believe something that isn’t true.
Everything that happened after the ball should have been contained to only those who witnessed it and have since been sworn to secrecy or those deemed important enough to have been told.
Which, if memory serves correctly, would only be the council members and royalty. ”
“And most of it has. But I’m afraid that it’s quite hard to fully contain the happenings in the palace.
Our informants are reporting back that while the details of your attack on the healers haven’t leaked, those of Lady Rhea and her mission here have.
There is a very real fear amongst our people that their king and queen do not have their best interests at heart when they have proof that they hid information about Rhea from us.
They are scared that you will throw our kingdom into war over a woman. ”
I squeeze the armrests hard enough to turn my knuckles white, anger filling every vein as my jaw ticks.
Did the councilman know where Rhea was? Did he help King Dolian plot her seizure?
Though my eyes narrow, I keep the accusations locked inside.
Kallin is calculating and manipulative. While I may be unclear on if his dislike of Rhea led to him helping with her abduction or not, I can’t let him rile me to the point that I lose access to whatever information I need from him.
So I swallow every bitter thing I want to say and relax my grip on the chair.
“We have the opportunity to get ahead of this, Your Highness. To show the people that while poor leadership will not be tolerated, we can provide them the same level of contentment they’ve come to know.” Galen nods in agreement.
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“Your father will be asked to formally step down, and you will take his place,” he answers matter-of-factly.
I exhale slowly, having anticipated that Kallin would suggest something like this and still not quite prepared. “The people love him—”
“They have,” he interrupts, leaning back as he watches me. “For many years, your father has been a dutiful servant to the Crown. Yet even the best amongst us can falter over time. Sadryn was a wonderful king for the past but not the one we need for the future. That title belongs to you.”
“And if I don’t want to be king?”
He sighs in disappointment. “Then we will see to it that the Daxel line is removed from the throne and you are all stripped of your titles. A formal investigation will be launched into the secrets kept from the council regarding Lady Rhea and your fake betrothal to her, with the intent to prosecute anyone who was involved in the hiding of crucial details about her. We will show no leniency in our interrogation of your sister and her treasonous acts.” At the mention of Bahira, a crack in my facade shows, and Kallin capitalizes on it.
“The council will temporarily take over control of the kingdom under the laws that provide us the ability to do so and we will use those powers to ensure that anyone not found to be working in the best interest of the kingdom will find themselves rotting in the cells beneath the palace.”
“This can just be a small bump in the road, Prince Nox,” Galen adds.
A small bump in the road. It’s an effort to not send my fist into the desk.
I don’t care about the title or the throne, but I’m not na?ve enough to believe that having those things won’t make my own mission easier.
If this is all I can do until my magic or strength return, then I can force myself to play along.
Even if, in the end, I’m worse off for it.
How I suffer is inconsequential to getting Rhea back.
“Fine,” I grind out, the annoyance in my voice only half-faked. “What do you need me to do?”
Kallin clasps his hands together in front of him.
“I knew you could be reasoned with, Prince. I believe, with your total cooperation, we can remind the people just how loyal to them you are. After all, are you not the same man who went undercover to ensure their safety? The same one who promised to use his blessing of immense power to keep his kingdom safe?”
“Except they don’t know that I infiltrated the Mortal Kingdom for four years,” I retort, stretching my neck from side to side. “And my magic is still depleted.”
Kallin looks over at the palace healer. “Galen believes you shall be back to your full strength and magical capacity soon.” I look to the healer, noting his tight smile as he nods.
“Until then, we will announce your intention to take your father’s place.
I anticipate he will show some… resistance.
All well-intentioned of course, but you will need to convince him that this is the best step. ”
“Of course.” The pain in my head throbs more harshly, and I bring my fingers to press in at my temple.
“And then, shortly after, we will announce your betrothal to Councilman Borris’s niece.”
My lungs seize, my eyes narrowing on his as my lips pull against my teeth in a snarl. Even in my game of pretend, this is a line I will not cross. “Absolutely not.”
“Prince Nox, it is imperative to show our people that you have their best interests at heart, particularly with the rumors surrounding Lady Rhea.” Anger rises, coloring my vision red as I stand abruptly from the chair, my chest heaving.
The room spins, and I plant my hands on his desk to keep myself upright.
“You don’t need to marry her right away, but the betrothal—”
“I said no!” I shout, wincing as my voice reverberates through my skull.
“Galen,” Kallin says calmly, calling the healer to my side.
“Your tonic, Your Highness.” He holds out a small glass vial containing the pink liquid he’s been giving me since my return.
I hesitate, its foul taste enough to preemptively sour my stomach.
“No need to suffer when you don’t need to,” Galen insists, his hand drawing nearer.
“This will help bring you closer to feeling yourself again.”
Swallowing the saliva gathered at the back of my tongue, I relent and take the vial from him, uncorking it before bringing it to my mouth. The liquid goes down in one gulp, my eyes squeezing shut at the wave of nausea that immediately follows. Galen takes the empty bottle and pockets it.
It only takes a few seconds for it to coat me in a pleasant haze, quieting enough of the aches and pains that they become a murmur in the back of my mind. The righteous anger that had heated my veins moments before gone with them.
“We will revisit the betrothal talk another day,” Kallin says, his voice sounding farther away. “For now, let’s plan your ascension to king.”