Chapter 9
The Serpent
It ought to have been disconcerting how easily it was to fall into detesting nearly everyone and everything. But rarely did I bother with such worries.
Turns and turns of Harald Songtaker’s vigilance in plotting and scheming with a dark earth fae were nothing but commonplace now.
Whispers of the scarred king who’d never be as firm and sturdy as Thorvald were nothing more than oil in my blood, adding heat and resentment to the flame burning beneath the surface.
Folk of the Ever resented I was their king, and I resented their every breath.
The caring side of your heart makes you powerful, do not ever forget it. I am proud of you.
Words so distant I could hardly hear the memory in my thoughts anymore.
Foolish words. Hearts had no place in an Ever King.
Trouble was the more I fought to burn the cavity in my chest to nothing but ash, some sort of caring would bubble up and keep it alive a little longer. First, when Gavyn’s secret was discovered, Harald slaughtered his maj and broke Lord Sewell’s head.
I should’ve warned him turns ago when I first met the dark fae.
He marked Sewell for speaking out against him.
I saw it, but was too damn weak, too damn frightened, by the hollow earth fae, I’d put the thought aside.
Not even a turn after I’d first met the dark fae, the attack on Gavyn's house was underway.
Now, he led the House of Bones and pretended his daj was a dead traitor and that he had no sister. The new servant who kept to my wing in the palace was hardly of note to Harald. My uncle’s disregard was welcome and gave me the time to teach little Celine the skill of tidecalling.
As a voiceless siren, she picked it up after a turn or two. I didn’t teach her out of any sympathy, of course. It was to keep her hidden better. Harald would notice if a servant didn’t have a sea voice, enough that he might ask questions.
It wasn’t as though I truly cared much for the House of Bones, even if they were the most tolerable folk in the kingdom.
Although, Celine was beginning to speak out against some of my ideas, just like her damn brother did at times, and that was rather aggravating.
Should anyone else speak against me, they would be tied to a skiff, bare skin against the sun, coated in oils that would burn the flesh in the heat, then set out to sea.
I did not want to think long on why I allowed Celine and her brother to argue with me.
The girl dared tell me off the other night when I knocked my shoulder against Tait’s in the corridor.
“Always saying you don’t think much of Harald’s words,” Celine snapped while feigning like she was polishing a silver candlestick. “But you certainly entertain his words by avoiding your own blood and acting like you don’t care.”
“I don’t.”
Celine scoffed. “Well, you always seem to want Heartwalker’s notice whenever you pass him.”
At that, I’d barked at her to leave my chamber, then slumped in the chair by the inglenook, replaying her accusation for much too long after she’d left.
What did she know? Tait hated me as much as I despised him. The caring side of your heart makes you powerful.
Celine didn’t need to know the buried, deeper truth. If I acknowledged Tait differently, if I ignored Harald’s insistence to avoid my cousin, then he always paid the price from Harald’s hands.
It wasn’t as though Tait’s beatings mattered much to me, but if Harald accidentally slaughtered his son, it would add more for me to do. Councils, inquiries, punishments.
No, I did not care for folk. I tolerated them to ease my own life. Nothing more.
But at the moment, this damn sod in front of me was not making my existence easy.
Unlike the brother and sister of the House of Bones, his arguments against my word drew hot agitation in my blood.
Each sound kept my stomach in knots, and I could not stop imagining all the ways I might get him to cease talking—hot wax poured in his throat?
A garrote around his neck? Keep it simple, a knife to the tongue.
A small smile teased the corner of my mouth and I managed to listen as Mattlaus rambled on.
“The House of Kings has always mated with the House of Mists. Like the great Thorvald understood, a mighty sea witch is what your line needs, My King.” Mattlaus Ribshredder was a formidable man, one capable of stripping marrow from the bones with his complex spell casts.
And since I was old enough to understand the fallen Ever King had arranged a mating contract before my first memory, Mattlaus had been in my court pleading for me to restore what I’d dissolved with his daughter.
Once, Harald schooled me on diplomacy when dealing with subjects. But those requests ended long ago. Since my ninth turn, over five turns now, my uncle instead instructed me to hone bloodlust, stand down to no one, and piss on justice if anyone offended the House of Kings.
Mattlaus now crossed into offense.
Slumped in the throne, I propped my chin on my curved fist. “That’s enough chatter, Ribshredder.”
“My King, I—”
I held up one palm. “No. Now you’ll hear me.
If you had not entered this hall time and again, practically wailing at the unfair lot in your life, as though you have any sort of control over the word of your king, perhaps I might’ve indulged your scheme.
Fione is pretty enough, but gods, you sniveling weakling.
I cannot stand your voice any longer. Why in all the hells would I align my house with yours when I sit here plotting how I might shut you up in the most violent of ways? ”
I dragged my thumb across the sharp point of my tooth, splitting the skin of the tip. Gavyn’s idea. He insisted the best way to get out of dull council meets or endless plotting with Harald and his earth fae pet was by showing a bit of blood.
My kingdom delighted that their king had such a deadly voice, but greatly feared it.
No one dared step close to me. I could not recall the last time anyone intentionally touched me save for Gavyn whenever he shoved my shoulder or hooked an arm around my neck as though we were boon companions.
Ribshredder paled. “King Erik, I do not mean to offend.”
“Oh, but you do. What could a stupid boy king know, isn’t that right?”
“No.” The man took a step back, palm lifted. “I assure you, I did not think anything of the sort. Only that I want you to understand that this will aid in building your father’s legacy.”
“Everyone is so concerned about my father’s legacy.
” I rose from the throne and descended the steps of the royal dais.
With another bite, I widened the cut on my thumb, letting more blood trickle down.
Ribshredder stiffened, but the man had the stones to stay put.
Two paces off, I came to a halt. “Kneel.”
“My King—”
“Kneel.”
With a heavy breath, he adjusted gaudy, blue satin tailcoats out of the way and lowered to one knee.
I did not hesitate before wiping a stream of blood from my thumb near his bottom lip.
One hand on the man’s shoulder, I leaned forward, drawing my lips near his ear.
“If you return with the same dull request again, I’ll paint the inside of your mouth. ”
I took one step back, sucking the excess blood off my thumb.
“Understand, Ribshredder? Your fascination with who gets my cock someday grows tiresome.”
The man nodded, mouth tight, as though any movement would draw the poison in.
“Good.” I waved a hand, urging guards to lead him out.
“Your girl can remain as a courtier, but if I choose to bed her, that decision will be mine. Do not speak down to me again. I may be a young king, but I am not afraid to send anyone to the Otherworld. You would not be my first. Certainly not the first from the House of Mists.”
I grinned when his eyes went wide.
My mother hailed from the House of Mists and her folk knew well who’d sent her to the Otherworld. I hid the hot shame at insinuating her death was something delightful beneath a sneer until Ribshredder was hurried out of the great hall.
It was a talent I’d developed over the turns: pretending I did not recall certain truths. If I admitted truths about the pain I harbored at losing my maj, then I’d have to admit truths I concealed about the earth fae.
It was easier to hate.
Hatred for a distant king made certain that I would not falter from my purpose of restoring honor to this damn kingdom.
I altered truths, and somewhere deep inside I knew it.
Every day I reminded my own thoughts that the earth bender killed Thorvald in cold blood.
A crime that could not go overlooked. Another manipulated truth I forced my mind to repeat was the earth fae stole the power of Thorvald and betrayed an alliance.
For that, they deserved our blades.
I told myself the Ever Seas could not progress because of the earth bender king and his betrayals. Earth fae were our enemies. They were the villains.
The only answer was to bring war and retrieve what was lost by taking the earth bender’s head.
By now it was not so difficult to forget truths of that time.
Like how an earth fae warrior protected a sea fae boy without asking for anything in return.
Or how he told grand tales of a loft where the boy could be safe and play.
Hateful words repeated by my uncle, by my own thoughts, had long ago spun looms of dark threads around the greatest truth of all—the earth bender killed Thorvald only after the Ever King tried to kill an innocent earth fae.
To remember such a thing, to cling to it, would do nothing to benefit the Ever. So, I would forget it. I’d try every damn day to forget.
When I rounded the corner, I froze.