Chapter 85 Nox
Chapter Eighty-Five: Nox
Galen’s face is stern where he stands across from me, the old mage’s eyebrows furrowed. “Prince—ah, King Nox—it is imperative that you continue the treatment as we have laid out. Skipping a dose will only put you back.”
“The medicine isn’t strong enough. It’s doing nothing but numbing my aches temporarily. Then the pain returns tenfold,” I grit out, my hand cradling the side of my head. “I’m not getting better, just going in circles. There has to be something else.”
Galen shuffles closer, the vial of pink medicine clutched in his grasp.
“Your Majesty, sometimes in order to get to something better, we must trudge through the uncomfortable. The magic in your veins will be yours again—of that, I have no doubt. But for now, we must help you along.” He extends his hand, and my stomach hollows out.
“If nothing else, trust that I have been caring for your family since before you were even born.”
My hesitation lingers, even as my head throbs harder. Eventually, the thought of even temporary relief wins out, and I grab the vial, uncorking it and forcing the medicine down my throat.
“Do you have the other item I requested?” Walking over to the sink, I open the cupboard above it and grab a glass, filling it with enough water to rinse out the taste in my mouth.
Within seconds of the medicine hitting my stomach, a numbing sensation curls outward, coating me in a hazy lightness that leaves me slightly dizzy.
“The sleeping tincture?” Galen’s voice ebbs in and out, and the anger and anxiousness that has made a home in my chest softens into something less urgent.
“Yes. I’ve been having difficulty sleeping at night.”
“To be expected, given your current condition.”
Taking a gulp, I set the glass down before turning, leaning heavily against the counter’s edge.
Galen digs through a different cupboard across from me, glass bottles clinking against each other as he searches for the tincture.
I press a hand to my chest, Rhea’s engagement ring warm against my skin from where it hangs on a chain, and I use its presence as a way to feel closer to her.
A temporary reprieve in the aching of my soul without her near to me.
When Galen signals he’s found the tincture, I exhale the breath I was holding in relief. One step closer.
“This should do the trick, Your Majesty. Though I should warn you, don’t drink it until you are already in bed for the night.
” He lumbers over to me, dropping a vial filled with a dark blue liquid into my hand.
“The lavendaris plant works quickly and will have you peacefully asleep within a minute.”
I snort as I hold it up to the light, my vision doubling before I blink it back into focus. “Hard to believe something so innocuous looking could be so potent.”
“It’s the way of plants. They are a magic all their own.”
Thanking Galen, I pocket the sleeping tincture and exit the medical room, heading to what will no doubt be another day filled with Kallin’s incessant droning.
Since my official coronation, the council has shown no mercy in testing the limits of what I will agree to in exchange for allowing our family to stay on the throne.
I have bent the knee on nearly everything they’ve asked of me.
All except for one.
I slip my hand into my pocket, fingers brushing against the cool glass of the sleeping tincture.
It had taken me a while to find more information on Stephan, though my position as king has certainly aided in getting what I needed.
I’ve learned that he floats from post to post, filling in wherever he might be needed.
It makes his absences when he returns to the Mortal Kingdom all the more unnoticeable.
Unfortunately for him, his shifts this week are in the dungeons, which makes what I have to do much easier.
The council room is cold as I step inside, greeting the faces of the nine members seated around the long table.
The chandeliers above burn brightly, and you’d never know that I had nearly brought this place down to the foundation weeks ago.
Weeks. A mockery of power stirs in my gut at the thought, but it’s easier to ignore as I sink into my chair at the head of the table, Borris on my right and Kallin on my left.
“Your Majesty,” the latter says, lacing his fingers together in front of him. “We’ve heard word from the party sent to the Fae Kingdom.”
My eyes slide to his as I lean forward, elbows resting on the table.
Cass and I had agreed that all communication should be limited, considering we still don’t know who the moles are.
If he sent a message, it must be worth the risk of it being read by someone else.
Which, as Kallin slides the missive to me, I can see was a worthwhile worry.
Something like irritation heats me from within as I slide my finger beneath the already broken seal but it’s dulled, pressed behind an invisible shield to be dealt with at another time.
Though the words on the paper blur in and out, I manage to read that they have been delayed in crossing over the Fae Kingdom’s border.
Cass adds that they are safe and will continue on, but it will mean they will be home later than they thought.
I fold the letter, pocketing it despite how Kallin holds his hand out for me to return it.
“Let’s hope that they can find what they are looking for without interference,” I tell him instead.
“What else do we have to discuss today?”
Kallin gives me a small grin before he and the rest of the council launch into their agenda for the day.
Their voices are quiet beneath the murkiness created by the tincture, but though it makes it hard to follow what they are saying, I’m grateful for the way my muscles are relaxed.
For the absence of that ever-present pain that’s taken residence in my body.
Galen believes it is due to my lack of magic.
That with only a ghost of its normally brimming presence, my body is suffering.
It seems as good as any theory I can come up with, I only wish he could tell me why my power is still so distant.
Why, sometimes, I can sense the full capacity of it only for it to fade again by my next breath.
When the meeting adjourns, Kallin asks me to stay behind, leaving just the two of us in the room.
I don’t bother asking him why, preferring to sit in the silence that stretches wide between us before he is the one to finally break it.
Joining his hands together behind him, he tilts his head to the side while slowly pacing the long side of the table opposite me. “How are you feeling?”
I fold my arms over my chest, leaning a hip against the edge of the table. “You’ll need to be more specific.”
“Let’s start with your transition to king.” He pauses behind one of the chairs, his hands coming to rest on its back.
“It was time,” I answer, keeping my words measured.
Kallin smiles. “And how is your strength? Are you taking the medicine?”
“As prescribed, yes.”
“Your magic?” he asks, continuing around the table until he stops only a few seats away from me. “Is it still eluding you?”
Something about his tone catches my attention. “You speak as if it’s purposefully hiding from me.”
“Well you’ve given us very little information about your magic since this madness began.”
“You know more about my magic than nearly anyone else. You oversaw my childhood to ensure it.”
Kallin smirks. “Is that bitterness I hear? It’s misplaced if so. Everything I have done, both then and now, has been in service of my home. I will continue to protect her, no matter the cost, Your Majesty.”
I mimic his smile, even as I struggle to latch on to the anger that I know is simmering within me. “As will I.”
The air is thick with the scent of must and mildew, each lungful a battle not to cough it right back out.
Even with the fabric of the scarf covering my face, the smell of the dungeons is one that can’t be dampened.
In the cracks between the stone that surrounds me, water drips, the rhythmic sound of it hitting the ground matching the pace of my steps.
Carrying a small white bag in one hand, I sink the other into my pocket, playing with the now empty glass vial as I whistle a tune to announce my arrival to the two guards posted at the end of the tunnel.
It’s a stupid fucking plan, but it is the only one that doesn’t necessitate involving other people.
If I am going to go against every oath I took as king, then I damn well better make sure no one else can be an accomplice to my crimes.
Sweat beads at my temples, my heart pounding at my ribcage as I follow the tunnel and turn right, revealing a guarded metal gate.
“Who goes there?” one of the guards shouts, hand going to the sword strapped at his hip. The lights of the spelled flames on either wall reflect amber over his leather armor, his partner also reaching for his weapon as they watch me come closer.
“I’ve come bearing gifts!” I shout, lifting the hand holding the white bag in front of me. The guards take in the armor I wear—stolen from Cass’s room—and my half-covered face before looking at each other.
“What’s that?” the younger of the two asks, shaking his head to move the red curls dangling over his forehead off to the side.
“A gift from His Majesty.” I toss him the bag, his partner’s eyes fixed on me as I stop in front of them. His fingers flex against the hilt of his sword for another moment, and I arch my brow in response.
“The king has never sent us anything before,” he says, allowing his hand to finally fall as he steps back next to his partner. “What’s in there, Damien?”
I watch as the younger man opens the bag and reaches in. He pulls out the iced lemon bar before handing off the bag to the man at his side. “There’s a new king now,” I say.