Chapter Four
The summons came in the form of a single knock. One sharp rap against Penny's door. Precise and deliberate. It cleaved through the quiet like a blade, making us both jump.
Penny’s hands tightened briefly on my shoulders, a fleeting gesture of comfort she would likely deny if confronted.
Then she smoothed the fabric at my waist before she crossed the room, opening the door to reveal the same two guards who had dropped me off before stood to attention, awaiting further instruction.
Both peered inside, their eyes landing on me as if they could not quite believe I was the same girl they had dropped off hours ago. To be honest, I would not have believed it if I was them either.
“The King summons her,” the taller one said. Now that I had somewhat relaxed, I was able to study them properly.
The taller of the two was striking in a way that felt almost unfair.
Blonde hair shaved at the sides, the remainder braided tightly down the pack of his head.
The points of his ears were smaller than The King’s but unmistakably Fae.
His skin was pale and pearlescent, as if it reflected the fae light around us, his eyes were an amber so bright it resembled pure melted gold.
If he hadn't been a guard; in the palace I was being held captive, I would have said he was attractive. Here, he was just another blade The King could hold at my throat.
The second guard lingered half a step behind. Silver hair cropped close to his scalp. His blue eyes avoided mine entirely, looking at every part of the room rather than me. Despite his perceived nervousness he still held himself as a warrior, his hand lingering near his sword.
Penny turned to me, adjusting a loose strand of hair with meticulous care. Her fingers drifted down to fiddle with the neckline of my gown. Attempting once more, to coax the fabric higher over my throat.
“Remember the rules,” she whispered.
“I don't follow rules well,” I reminded her, lifting my head so that the scar could not be completely covered. Earning me an exasperated sigh.
She said nothing else as she stood to the side, urging me to step forward.
If walking through the obsidian court felt like entering a cage, stepping into the throne room felt like stepping into the mouth of a beast. Ancient and hungry, ready to swallow me whole.
The moment I walked into the extravagant space, the doors sealed behind me with a soft click. The guards did not follow, leaving me alone standing in the large space.
The hall stretched impossibly long before me, a cathedral of black stone.
Its black pillars spiralling upwards like the ribs of some ancient creature.
The marble floor beneath my slippers, was veined with silver that pulsed faintly with living magic, light beating through it like a slow, patient heart.
At the far end elevated upon a dais of obsidian, The King sat waiting.
Rhael Sorenthis reclined upon his throne as though he had grown from it.
Dressed entirely in black, sleeves rolled to the elbows, revealing long, vine-like tattoos that coiled up his forearms. His dark hair was loose, strands fell around his face in a way that felt careless and deliberate all at once.
He looked calm, almost serene. Like a predator, content to let its prey approach of its own accord.
I moved, each step echoing loudly in the cavernous space. The silk of my gown suddenly felt like a constrictor against my ribs. When I reached the foot of the dais I stopped. Rhael did not speak immediately. Instead letting the silence stretch until I felt it tugging at my bones.
“I am surprised you responded so easily to my summons,” he said at last, voice smooth. He leant forward, forearms braced against his knees. His silver eyes swept over me from head to toe.
“You called, I came.” I replied lightly, dipping into a shallow, deliberately imperfect curtsey. “I would hate to disappoint my master on the first day of his purchase.”
Sarcasm dripped sweetly from my tongue. I knew better than to provoke him, but I did it anyway.
“You have a talent for words,” he observed, one dark eyebrow lifting as he leaned back into the throne.
“Most do appreciate a bit of personality in a room.” I said with a faint smile. I knew a stunt like that would normally result in at least one whip across my back. But still, I couldn't stop myself.
The King did not move, keeping the same frozen stature as he regarded me like a puzzle. I was impressed at his restraint, but it made me wary. Just because a man who did not strike first, didn’t mean he would not strike at some point.
“You do not fear me?” He questioned, a hand running over his chin thoughtfully.
The stories of the Fae King were that of nightmares. A man who was never meant to become King, placed on the throne by his brother's death, who ruled with a cold heart and an even colder fist.
“I should, but I am curious.” I say, trying to seem as relaxed as possible. Forcing my shoulders to remain level, my breath even.
“About?” He asked. His tongue flicked briefly over the metal ring at his lip, teeth catching it with a soft click that echoed around the vast chamber.
“Why does a King require a human slave when he commands an entire court, who will serve without the need for any coin?” My tone came sharper than intended and I watched as he shifted in the throne.
“You ask questions as though you have the right to.” The words were simple, but his tone was deadly. His eyes narrowed as if I had just announced that I planned to stab him in his sleep.
“Do I?” I asked, noting that he had not forbidden it outright.
“No,” he replied. The word falling heavy. Cold air pressing inward as our gazes locked. A fight for dominance I knew I had no chance of winning, but I would not surrender so easily.
“So, what is it that my master requires?” I ask, the words sickly sweet dripped from my mouth.
It was a tone I had heard multiple times before. From slaves who were enamoured by their masters, or simply just trying to survive.
“My kingdom is under threat from the east. To prevent war, I must secure alliances among the other realms. But truth is scarce,” he began, his voice steady and measured. Each word was selected carefully.
I knew the rumours. Everyone did.
Years ago, Rhael’s brother had ruled Vaetharyn in prosperity. Then death took him, violent and sudden. Some had rumoured that Rhael’s hand had been the one to guide the blade. Others insisted it had been the work of enemies, seeking to destabilize the Fae from the inside out.
Since then, the Vampires of Noctharis had tested Rhael relentlessly. I had heard stories of raids along borders, livestock and people slaughtered. A steady stream of terror to measure Rhael’s strength as King.
“I require someone to accompany me, to listen and observe those who may be trusted and those who do not deserve it.” He continued, explaining everything slowly, as if my poor human mind could not comprehend what he needed.
“And my part in this is?” I questioned, still unsure of why he would need a human, if all he needed to do was form an alliance between the other kingdoms. Surely there were easier ways.
Alasgad was fractured into six kingdoms.
Vaetharyn at its heart, the land of the fae, thick with magic and growth.
Pyrhador in the mountains, where the dragons slumbered.
Lyncanthyr’s endless forests were ruled by the wolves.
Noctharis to the east, barren and blood starved.
The island of Dobhar, where sirens were said to sing ships to ruin.
Then there was where I had been born… The slums.
Humans had no kingdom worth naming–not really–only overcrowded alleyways and crumbling walls, abandoned by those who deemed us unworthy of saving.
“You are overlooked. Creatures rarely guard their tongues around humans. They do not imagine you could be listening. They certainly do not believe you are capable of understanding,” Rhael said, drawing my attention back from memory.
“So, I gather secrets and report them back to you,” it was a statement not a question. There was no need, not when he had been so clear.
“Yes, and because I am fair, there will be a reward,” he leaned back, watching me as though I were already caught in his snare.
“What reward?” I asked. The question slipped out too quickly. Much more eager than I would have liked. My interest overrode my indifference.
“When my kingdom is secure, your debt will be cleared and you will be free,” he said, idly rolling an invisible piece of lint between his fingers.
“Free? Completely?” My composure fractured despite myself.
Hope flared inside my chest. Years ago, I had resigned myself to being a slave until death. Freedom had never been an option, not truly. Yet the Fae King offered it as if it meant nothing to him.
“Yes,” he said, his eyes turning from the invisible lint back to my face. Watching, observing.
“But war could last decades,” I murmured as reality set in like an unwelcome frost. The fire of hope doused by ice cold water.
“I am aware.” Rhael smirked. The curve of his lips telling me he had already calculated this reaction.
“So, I could serve you faithfully and still die a slave?” I sighed watching him as my hope turned to anger at such a wicked and cruel game.
“If you perform well, war may be avoided. Five years. Perhaps less,” he mused, tilting his head to the side.
Perhaps.
The word clung to the air like a sour smell. He enjoyed this, Rhael enjoyed watching the decision coil inside me. I was sure he would find great pleasure in the conflict that now bloomed within me.
“That is if I do not die first,” I muttered coldly, looking away from him. No longer interested in his game.
“Exactly,” he rose slightly before waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. Taking my disinterest as a reason to end the conversation. “Now leave me, I have other matters to consider.”
Dismissed. As though I were nothing more than an instinct that briefly held his attention.
“Yes, Master,” I sneered. That word formed like poison in my throat.
I dipped once more into an exaggerated curtsey. Making sure my eyes met his as I stepped backwards. Choosing to leave the room facing him.
I would not turn my back on Rhael. Not in his own throne room.
Only when the doors closed behind me did the realisation settle into my chest. I had never agreed. Not aloud. Though, I suspected, in this court silence would be taken for consent all the same.