Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
Fireworks and Celebrations.
Selene Borealis
Iwas nervous.
Heidi had insisted that Valen was certain of an attack.
Adamantia had been informed that an attack would take place at the closing ceremony.
All that could be certain was that, at some point during the Royal Conference, The New Foundation planned to attack, and that it would likely take place during either the opening or the closing ceremony.
Percy had left in the early hours of the morning with Theo, disguised in an oversized winter coat with a hood. Theo was dressed casually, and being the newest member of my guard, I believed he was the least likely to be recognised. Rylan confirmed that they left the castle grounds unchallenged.
I adjusted how my suit jacket sat. I had chosen to wear my official dress mess for House Ardens, a deep blackberry purple. If war were to break out, I would be dressed for the occasion.
Rylan accompanied me to my father’s study, giving me a silent nod of encouragement after I knocked as he opened the door and took his station outside to wait for me.
He would be my personal guard during the opening ceremony, communicating with the rest of my protection and ensuring safety and extraction should anything happen.
After spending the evening with Percy, Rylan briefed me on procedures for the opening ceremony. I had not slept. Thankfully, since feeding from Percy, my ability to consume blood had returned, and over the last day and a half, my stamina, strength, and general health had bounced back remarkably.
“Selene,” Father greeted pleasantly before commenting, “I see you have gone with House Ardens.” Looking me over critically.
When had my father become so cold?
Had this always been his true demeanour? Had my mother’s presence softened him and prevented me from knowing who he truly was before now?
Since my mother’s passing and his own near-fatal poisoning, he was not the father I had known.
He was the man that General Creel would tell me stories of.
The darkness that swallowed his enemies whole with inevitable brutality.
I remember when I had the realisation that King Nyx from those stories was my father.
I had always known him simply as Father.
The recognition that he had a name beyond his role as my father was troubling.
I realised that it was the first time I understood that he was someone else to everyone else.
I could not mesh the dichotomy of Father and King in my youth.
To learn that he was the monster that invaded my nightmares as a young child was upsetting.
For months, I had watched him, waiting for him to turn from my father and into the monster from General Creel’s stories. He never did. And I forgot to be scared.
I had come to the foolish understanding that I would always experience him as my father — recent events had shown otherwise.
The man before me now, the way he looked me over disapprovingly, was not the father who raised me. His barbaric treatment of my Percy was monstrous, but he was not the mastermind tactician of his legends. I was unsure if he ever truly had been.
I saw him clearly then as he approached to greet me with a kiss on each of my cheeks: he was desperate, scared for his and my future.
He could have approached me about his fears openly as my father; instead, he attacked what was most important to me and schemed to take her from me.
I saw him for the frail old man he was becoming, and I pitied him.
“I am representing House Ardens,” I reminded him.
“Yes, of course. I admit that I prefer you in Borealis colours. Nevertheless, you are stunning as always,” he complimented me.
“Thank you,” I replied.
He glanced behind me as if expecting something.
“Your pet is not accompanying you this morning?” he asked.
“I felt it best that I attend alone, her presence would be a distraction,” I answered.
He smiled, pleased.
“That is a wise choice. How has the girl been since her return?” he asked.
“A handful. She is quite distressed still,” I answered and feigned slight exasperation. It was important that my father believed his ill-considered plan was flowing as he wished.
“Is she still requesting to return home?” he pried.
I looked away, my upset at simply the memory of Percy’s demands to leave me, that she didn’t love me, due to my failures, was not acting.
“She will learn to accept her place. She is my soul match, and I will not be separated from her again,” I said.
He looked disappointed and patted my shoulder condescendingly.
“Do you believe it is the best option to keep her against her will? Truly, can you not see how your refusal to accept her standing or let her go has weakened not only yourself but the kingdom?” he asked.
I shrugged off his hand.
“She is my soul match, and I will not discuss this further. The ceremony cannot begin without you,” I said.
“Selene, my daughter, our relationship has been strained recently, but I am still your father, and I want only what is best for you and the kingdom. A soul match is such a burden, but it does not need to be,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to suppress my anxiety at his words.
“I have spoken with Dennis Aqua, and he has led me to believe that a soul match bond could theoretically be broken, similar to a blood oath,” he answered.
For a moment, I was almost blinded by rage.
To break a blood oath and live was such torture; I knew of no one who had willingly chosen to do so.
Before Adamantia’s letter, I knew of no living example of someone successfully being freed from one.
I had read of attempts, but the individuals had all either died from the process or had chosen to invoke the curse of the oath and the painful death it promised rather than continue.
To suggest something similar be attempted with Percy…
I would kill him first. Rip out his throat with my teeth.
“No,” I growled low and threateningly. I could not control myself.
“Even if she wished to try?” he asked.
“Never,” I answered, the growl rumbling in my chest vibrated through my entire being.
“Calm down, Selene,” he instructed.
“You’ve been plotting behind my back with Dennis Aqua, the very enchanter you sent my way, to torture my soul match, and you request that I calm down? Does your betrayal know no limits?” I replied.
“It was you who requested his services —”
“And it was simply a coincidence that you were already working with him?” I challenged.
“No,” he admitted. “The problem with your pet has been building for months. I wanted to know all our options.”
“She is mine. She will always be mine,” I stated.
He sighed dramatically, but I heard the way his heart sped up and scented his anger.
“Enough of this for now. We are officially late,” he decided and opened the door of his study.
It was necessary for me to take a few calming breaths before I could school my features and follow.
The ballroom was beautifully decorated, and the chandeliers from the domed ceiling provided much-needed warm lighting.
In the spring, when the conference was usually held, natural light would flood through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, but given the grey light of the early winter, that was not possible.
The room was loud with the clinking of glasses, the scraping of chairs and over two hundred voices. Each House had its own tables.
Father waited while I entered first. The master of ceremonies announced my arrival.
“Representing House Ardens, Her Royal Highness Princess Selene Borealis,” the already seated and waiting nobles and councillors applauded, and an usher showed me to my table.
I was the only representative for House Ardens and discovered that I had been seated not with the miscellaneous tables shared by the smaller Houses but at a table meant for ten entirely on my own.
Was it some attempt to embarrass me? It was hardly an oversight. I ignored the curious and scandalised glances from the tables around me. If my father wished to humiliate me, I would not give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I smiled as his arrival was announced.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you His Royal Highness King Nyx Borealis.”
The applause was appropriately loud, but I noticed that some in attendance looked less than impressed. It was clear that my father’s popularity was no longer as stable as it had been.
I caught General Creel’s eye across the room as my father was seated.
He looked visibly displeased and out of place in his military mess dress, like he had been forced to dress up for an occasion he would rather avoid.
He raised his eyebrows and looked at my table and back at me.
As subtle as always, it was obvious he was curious why I wasn’t sitting with Borealis or why I was alone.
I simply shrugged in answer and brought my attention back to the room.
Near the servant entrance, I saw Rylan standing to attention, his gaze travelling across the room.
We made eye contact, and he gave me one reassuring nod.
I pushed down my building anticipatory anxiety and accepted a drink offered to me by a server. The orchestra began playing quietly in the background, and as it did, the surrounding tables grew quiet.
Father stood to begin his opening speech, but was interrupted by the clashing smash of a server dropping a tray of glasses.
I was embarrassed that I had flinched and instinctively looked to see if anyone had been watching me, as the room filled with the tutting sound of displeasure and the server being scolded by the surrounding tables.
Rylan caught my eye, and he grinned knowingly before giving me a reassuring nod that everything was okay.
I turned my attention back to the server who had dropped the tray, and several servers who were helping to clean up.
“We will give the staff time to rectify this mishap, accidents happen after all,” Father announced, jovially.