15. conclaves & chaos - part 1
Rivian
"They aren't happy," Zharus greets me as I round the corner of the entry into the great hall.
I look on to see that my brother, a few other guards from the castle—minus Kacian, seeing as he still hasn't recovered from his anger with me—face my Factotum and I.
"Who?" I question as we approach the table.
He pulls out my chair and I sit, everyone else sitting with me. Zharus stands behind me slightly to the side as I wait for his answer.
"The Faction. They got word of the fire and Travois' escape. They are asking for the peaceful return of Travois within the next seventy-two hours, and if they don't get him back by then, they will seek your abdication." Zharus' words are final.
Abdication my ass. After everything I've gone through, including my efforts to rid myself of this burden, I will not be told that my reign has ended on some technicality that seems to be out of my hands.
"They are also requesting the source of the fire be answered. Arson is not something the Faction takes too lightly." One of my other guards speaks.
There's never really been any cause for them to be present in the past few months since the previous king's death. My father always had them following him around as if his whole existence was at risk. But this meeting seemed to have been called by Zharus as he was able to obtain some information.
"Do tell. What was the cause of the fire?" I look across the table where several empty chairs separate me and my brother.
He's dressed in his typical casual attire. Dark jeans, black shirt, and a dark brown leather jacket. His black hair is pushed back enough to show off the faded sides of his head and his elusive blue and gray eyes are staring right into mine. He's smug as his smirk is thin and his arms rest subtly on the rests of the regal chair.
"How did you escape?" I question him, making sure to match the same level of energy he's providing me with the nonchalance and the eye contact. But I'm not too foolish to know that I need to take this matter seriously whereas he could care less.
"Have you checked on your wife lately?" He meets me with another question instead of answering my own. Irritation rises in my throat, wanting to put him in his place for bringing her up. I don't know when this war truly started between Travois and I but I hate when he brings up things that he clearly knows affect me. It's as if he's trying to get under my skin, and I want to get under his as well.
"I'm your sister." A heavenly voice speaks up from behind me, her echo gently soothing the rage I felt building just at the sight of my brother.
I stand to greet my queen. All the others turn to face her and bow their heads. I see Trav being a disrespectful prick out of the corner of my eyes, but he knows better than to let me say anything to him, so slowly he stands and forces his attention on his sister. My wife. The queen.
"Oh, I-" Startled, she makes her way to my side where Zharus pulls a chair back for her to sit herself in. She nods a shy gesture at him before taking her seat and we all follow suit.
Zharus and Lucynda haven't really had a chance to be fully introduced to each other and I suppose I'm okay with that for now. I want my wife to learn who is of importance to this castle but as it stands, I'm not sure I want everyone to know her.
I've got a bad case of she's mine and simultaneously, I can't trust anyone right now.
"Speaking of, where is Troian?" I turn to ask, wanting to break up the tension that layers the room.
Almost as if on cue, a throat clears behind us as my sister makes her presence known. She struts through the room and reaches the table.
"Right here. Wouldn't miss this little shindig for the world." Her tone is bubbly but feigned as usual.
Zharus reaches for a chair to assist Troian, but in tried-and-true fashion, she gives him a look that relays his stupidity for trying to help her. She swats his hand away and seats herself. Always on a mission to prove her independence and that is why I admire her.
Zharus grunts silently while Travois chuckles under his breath and at once, everyone who needs to be here is here. Minus Kacian, but I'll make time for him shortly.
I look around the table and see the scarcity of what most would call an army. A couple dozen guards make up the kingdom and only a handful of them are here. If we're discussing family orders, I don't enjoy the additional ears. Along with them, Zharus is open for conversation as well but as he has the job of providing information for certain times like this.
This is when I recognize that I have truly failed my early months of being the king. Most rulers would hold weekly or bi-weekly meetings to discuss economics or whatever other bullshit effects vampire existence, plan parties, host get-togethers from those of other societies, and make sure that armies are formed for events like this. Kings and queens also visit the compound grounds regularly to check in on the other members of the society and such. I've merely left everyone out on their own, not really providing them with any normalcy in the society. As shitty as my father was, he made for a decent king and it begs me to wonder if my people are thriving. I've been so focused on my own needs that I failed to take care of theirs.
I don't even know if they’ve been made aware of what's been going on this past month and besides the wedding, they haven't even seen much of me or their queen. Granted, I don't want anyone to see her in the current state she's in. That would shake fear in them without question. But I owe it to my people to have the right to be in the know and to ensure that they are taken care of on my watch.
The fire was a touch and go kind of thing, and I should have done a better job to explain things to them then instead of telling them to mind their own business and to go back to normalcy. But what is normalcy? I never really imagined a life where I wasn't trying to kill someone for my grievances. But now, as I close my eyes, I can see my wife and I, king and queen of Hollows Trace. All of my people in attendance at an extravagant ball that we hosted for all of the societies to come and drink, dance and chat amongst each other. My wife and I run a good kingdom. We're respected and powerful and no one is down our throats claiming treason. That's what it should be.
But instead, we're here. A table made up of the four of us with my guards listening on problems that are likely more family related than anything, and the idea of that stirs discomfort in me. But I know that we can't fight wars alone, so for now, I let them stay.
I feel my wife's hand softly press against my arm, letting me know that I've been in thought for a moment too long. I look over at her, a slight smile curls on her face and suddenly, everything starts to feel calm again. But I know it won't last long.
I clear my throat and look over to my brother who has been watching me intently since I came into the room.
"You didn't answer my question, Trav." I hold my tone to a level of sternness, demanding his attention. He looks between the girls and I, all of us with our eyes on him.
He showed up out of nowhere the other night, from a holding cell that is supposedly impenetrable, and while we know now that there is a request for his return, it still strikes me as odd how he willingly succumbed to the charges and accusations and now . . . he's here. "How did you escape?" I ask him once more.
"This may come as a shock to you, brother. But someone felt as though my presence was rather necessary during these trying times." He shrugs his shoulders as he looks around at the other guards in the room.
"Who let you out?" I demand.
"Would you believe me if I said that I don’t recall?" He sizes up the guards once more, his eyes roaming from the back corner all the way to my Factotum.
Then gives each of us a slow glance before leaning forward on the table and pointing a stern glance at us, lowering his voice to allow for vulnerability for a moment. "I can’t seem to remember. It’s like it was wiped from my brain but I know it happened.” He stabs his pointer finger onto the top of the table. “I can feel them in my hands as I questioned them. Hell, I can still practically hear their voice but…"
He dips his head and closes his eyes. I can tell this is bothering him. I don't think he wanted to question it any more than he did, he was free. But as I make him try to dig out the truth, I can see that he might not like what he's remembering.
Nothing.
His eyes hold discomfort and unsureness in them.
"Is that what happened when the Faction came for you the first time? When you confessed?" Lucynda speaks up from beside me and when I look at her, she retreats slightly as if I made her uncomfortable by speaking up. But I'm glad she's brave enough to join in.
"I didn’t confess of my own will. All I remember was being grabbed with Troy, they chained us up and brought us back to the castle like we were some kind of animals," he says.
"But we went our separate ways." Troian speaks up, recalling another detail of that day. "They took me in a different direction than they took Trav though we both ended up at the castle together. There was a time we weren't together, and someone could have easily…" Her words fade, realization of the reality that likely took place.
"Wait," Lucynda chimes in. "If someone compelled Travois, that would have to mean that it’s a Royal, right? Only Royals can compel Royals."
I squeeze my wife’s hand to show my approval for her participation, no matter how awkward it may seem.
"Good girl," I praise her in a low whisper that only she can hear, looking at the way she blushes at my words. Given everything I put her through, she's still willing to sit by my side and assist with the tribulations we must face.
"It has to be Viktrum. He has to have some kind of agenda," Troian states. "What could he possibly need this much control over us for?"
Travois sits up from his chair finally. "Why don't you ask your little sidekick? I'm sure he has to know something since sneaking away to Valor." He took the information from the last unannounced meeting we had, where Troy exposed his hobby.
That's one more thing I know I need to get to the bottom of, but on the list of things to do it's easily the least of my concerns for now.
"He's not wrong, Zharus." Lucynda gives me a look as I speak, but I avoid it, needing to stay focused and not get lost in the colorless fire in her eyes.
"I don't understand how you can sit back and let him get away with secrets, Riv. No one else gets that privilege." Troy's argument is not wrong. I made it my mission to make sure I knew everything but only because I wanted to find Ameliana and I didn't want to be bested otherwise. Yet, I let Zharus' activities slide and what's worse, he's been going to Valor, where Ameliana was hiding.
But I could tell that he was just as shocked as I was when we found her, when she came to the castle.
You better not be fucking hiding anything from me, Zhar. Otherwise, I will find out and you will live to regret it, I tell him mentally and I can see the understanding crest his face but I also sense . . . fear.
I know that whatever he's hiding, it had nothing to do with the twins' mother so maybe he knows something else?
"So what are we going to do?" Lucynda asks as a slight chill shifts through the air.
I notice her shiver beside me. I look at my wife who only wears a thin button up blouse and a pair of jeans. I lean forward to remove my suit jacket and offer it to her. She hesitates for a beat but then caves in and lets me wrap it around her shoulders.
"I think it's time I pull the Society members into this and finally let them know what's really going on." I see the look over nervousness cross Cyn's face. She's scared of what this curse might do to her and how others might react. I am too. The last thing we need is some kind of riot against us or a punishment for something that she can't control.
But I feed her a look to ensure that she knows I won’t divulge any information about her condition just yet.
And if the Faction found out about her curse, they'd certainly treat her the same as they've treated Travois except worse. They won't give it another second before they rid her of that curse by ridding the world of her.
I see understanding flit through Troy's mind. She's the only one who knows about Cyn's condition right now. At least that I know of. Well, besides the witch. But coming forth with the truth to the Society means I need help figuring out how to say what I need to say without letting them in on our family business. But that means I need to be forthcoming with the whole truth to them . . . my siblings.
I look over at Zharus, nervous to spill my secrets in front of him. The only thing that is making it easier for me to be willing is the fact that he is not a Royal so I know he can't possibly be behind the compulsion in Travois, let alone a part of the potential of a plan with Viktrum. But as it is, I don't know if I can trust him with the knowledge of the curse my wife is riddled with and I still need to be wary of what we say in front of him as he does seem to hold whatever it is he's hiding close to his chest and every time I try to penetrate his thoughts, I'm presented with emptiness which annoys the fuck out of me. So I decide to give him something else to do while I continue to conclave with my siblings.
"Zharus, I need you to go get Kacian for me." I nod my head at him in hopes that it doesn't seem like I'm trying to push him away for secretive purposes. "And the rest of you, please get the message to everyone that there will be a formal Hollows Trace meeting tomorrow afternoon in the gallery." They nod their heads in approval of their release and start off.
Zharus hesitates a moment and I hate that something feels distant between us. I never really fancies us naturally close to begin with but I've always trusted him with things. For some reason, I don't feel that way now.
"Thank you, Zharus," I say to him respectfully in an attempt to get his actions to be prompt and he turns around to leave.
"I haven't been the best brother to you," I start looking between my siblings when I know the coast is clear, listening to any further breathing or footsteps in the distance and coming up silent. "Both of you."
"Save me the sentiment." Travois sits back in his seat to showcase his lack of care for my words.
"Don't be so full of yourself." Troian glares at him before wagging her finger between the two of us. "What's the problem between you two anyways? You're both always trying to see who has the bigger dick."
"Troian," I scold as I hear a near-silent giggle leave my wife's throat.
Troy grins in satisfaction for a beat before turning her attention back to her question.
"He's envious," I peg Trav with my stern eyes, offering up a pathetic excuse to hopefully get something out of him.
"Envious? Of what, pray tell? Your pathetic excuse of a life?" He chuckles. "Don't flatter yourself." He stands from his chair and I think he might want to leave, but he's not getting away from this conversation so quickly. He too has lots of explaining to do.
"Then what?" I stand as well, facing him as he walks toward where Troy sits on the side of the table.
I can feel my wife's eyes on me as I stand next to her, and Troy bleeds with glee for the entertainment, sitting back in her chair as if the only thing missing is her popcorn.
"Well, brother. I’m not sure you really want to feud in front of your delicate wife, now do you?" I have to hold back my rage. His utter disregard for any respect for Lucynda doesn't take much time to fester into my anger toward him, causing me to see red fairly quickly.
But I won't back down. All or nothing.
"On second thought, please do show her what kind of brother she can expect to gain after all this time." I hate that I decide to sink as low as him, using Lucynda as a topic of comeback but it's never been fair or clean with Trav. And I just, just like Troian, would like to know what his fucking problem is.
"Well, then . . . since you insist." He prepares himself for a verbal battle, stepping up toe to toe, not spatially aware of the way we now nearly box Cyn in against the table as we both stand near her.
"It's you," he seethes through a low, growly whisper that is louder than I'm sure he intended. "It's just you." Then he steps back and starts his performative show, waving his hands around like this is an attraction and are all welcome to see. "You used to drag your feet around in a pity-me parade day in and day out, getting all the attention from dearest father while Troy and I were left to the maids." A sinister laugh leaves his throat and even more anger boils in me. He's mocking me, insinuating the situation based on baseless accusations that are caused from his feelings of loneliness.
But who was truly the loner of the three of us?
"You are delusional," I accuse with my hands in my pockets. I can feel the shift below me as Cyn turns her head to watch the two of us, Trav now a few feet back as I still stand close to the table.
"Father spent every moment with you when he wasn't sticking his dick into something shiny and new."
"Travois…" Troian warns.
Troy never really had the best experiences with our father in my opinion. He could have done better with her. But if anyone were to take his side, it would be her. She actually cried at his funeral while the rest of us barely even wanted to show up.
"It's the truth, T. Father was not faithful to a single woman, that's why our mother left him." Trav's tone is almost pleading, like he's begging anyone to see the truth behind his words but it might be important to point out that there's a big possibility that the three of us all had different experiences when it came to the prior king.
I think over what he said and try to fit it into what Ameliana had said to me a few nights ago.
"Rivian, I regret leaving the twins behind, I really do, but I didn't want this life. I left the first time because I was scared. If I could have taken them, I would have. But I didn’t have the means to take care of them. Then he ripped me from the life I tried to make up for and forced me into this marriage again. I left the second time because he enacted punishment on me for escaping the first time. That, and I fell in love."
My father once told me that my new stepmother hated that I looked like my mother. I thought that maybe Ameliana was jealous of me or something. I didn't understand as a kid. But maybe my father lied to justify his actions. Because as I got a little older, he made it known that my "conditioning" was to make sure I was ready for this life, for the role of king. Maybe he thought that since my mother had to have her Royal blood extracted, that it would weaken my blood. Or maybe he was really just vindictive and cruel.
Whatever the case, replaying Amy's words that night, her telling me that she left because she was punished for running the first time . . . it might have some truth. My father was evil. But I don't know why Trav would make up this excuse as well. Maybe she really did fall in love. Maybe it was her only way out.
I focus back on the conversation. "So you're mad at me because our father cheated on your mother? Get a grip. Our realities are more alike than you chose to think then." I guess he didn't realize what I'd gone through when I saw our father and their mother together for the first time while my mother tried desperately to hold back the tears.
They were just babies when she was taken from me, they'll never know my pain.
"My reality is that I wanted to be king. You could have cared less, yet you were the one given the time and the lessons and the-"
"That time and those lessons consisted of daggers being thrown into my rib cage…" I throw Trav up against the wall, my hand encompassing his throat. The girls gasp at the force of our bodies slamming up against the wall, but I continue, "Cigarette burns, and belt lashes. That time was spent starving in a chair, tied up for days on end because for some reason, ever since he cheated on my mother with yours, I was subjected to the cruelty of being treated like some kind of caged animal, only worse. All at the expense of the supposed preparation to run this wretched kingdom. So that attention you craved, I wasn't getting it either Travois." I make him eat his fucking words as I let go of my grip on him and take a step back.
He doesn't falter or move, not even an inch, but I see the slight dreaded look of realization touch his eyes. I know he knew of at least one time I'd been locked in the basement, but I'm sure he didn't realize to the extent of it. Or maybe he did and doesn't care. But like the rest of us, we all have an exterior shell to fall back on, a hiding place we go while we feign any kind of emotion for shit we don't understand.
"I would have happily accepted my fate. That’s what kings do." He takes a step away from the wall and dusts off his jeans. "I would have traded my place for yours, because we all have our place in this world and unlike you, I would have been grateful for what was handed me and I know I could do a better job than you."
Hate dances between us, I for him and him for me. This is not what I anticipated when this meeting was called this morning. I wanted a resolution, not more reasons to want out.
Trav looks between me and Lucynda, and a look of worry crosses my face when I see the sadness on her. Though I'm not allowed a moment to process her hurt before my brother opens his mouth to say something that will earn him his death wish.
"You can't even keep your wife in check."
I don't even let a breath escape my lips or a heartbeat to vibrate in my chest before I have him shoved back into the same wall but this time, with my hand in his chest. "Don't you fucking speak her na-"
"Rivian!" Troy shouts and the sound of chairs scraping against the floor resound behind me, but I don't flinch.
"No one talks about my wife. Mark my fucking words." I grit my teeth as I speak my warning, squeezing his frantically beating heart in my hand.
"Do it," he spits in a ragged voice. "Show her what kind of monster you really are."
“You really despise me so much that you would subject yourself to a fate worse than death at my hands just to prove a point?” I question in a low rumble of my words.
“Don’t pretend like I am accepted by you, Rivian. You were always too good for the rest of us.” His remark mixes my vexation with my irritation for his disregard for all I have done. Things he does not even know about.
“You know, I did all I could to protect you. Both of you.” I lower my voice and nod my head between him and his twin. He’s hit a chord, a nerve that is raw when it comes to my family. Nothing is as clean cut as it may seem but no matter what has transpired between us—no matter how immature and frivolous it may seem—I will do what I can to protect this family. It’s something I might not have had the desire to promise before things started to click into place for me but I know it’s my job to hold us together.
“Protect me? Protect us? That’s laughable. I mean, look at us now, brother.” His words are cruel and unrelenting, the way he refuses to accept that we might just be a dysfunctional family but he also doesn’t seem to have any of our best interests either.
“What would you have me do then, huh?” My anger falls a few levels, still enraged, of course, at his question of me and my ability to be king. Though his weariness was warranted but since when has he cared to take some kind of stance.
I think he just likes fighting with someone.
I see the detachment light up behind his irises. Now, he refuses to give me an answer. But I don’t miss the slight shake in his bones as I release a little bit of the pressure I have against his heart. He’s running from something. From himself, perhaps. But he’s letting it all out on the only people who he knows will forgive him for his atrocities.
One day though, if he pushes me hard enough, I might not be so forgiving.
I know I couldn’t kill my brother, though. Or at least I shouldn’t. And thankfully, I don’t have to make that decision right now as Troian recognizes the small pause we both give and steps up to our sides.
She places a hand, one on each of our shoulders and attempts a calming but stern tone. "Rivian, I've got this."
I don't look at my sister when I pull my hand out of Trav's chest, a gasp of air clawing at his lungs as I do. Troy turns her attention to our brother as I turn to see a shocked look of utter horror painted on Lucynda's face.
I hate the way it feels—the look of disappointment embedded in her irises—but my thoughts don't hesitate as I take in my beautifully broken soul of a wife; the girl I once haunted for the sake of my own satisfaction, knowing that I would be the cause of her downfall if I allowed myself to fall victim to the grave she dug me. Letting her bury me in her soft skin and sinful eyes. Her heart is now tainted by my own and a path of devastation I must try and amend. But in all my error to deny myself the freedom to truly give in and to deny her of what I know she deserves most, I know it would have been worth it to rip my brother's heart from his chest for her.
I will kill anyone to protect my wife.