Chapter 17 Ryder
RYDER
The stale air settled in the room, suffocating my lungs, preventing me from taking a full breath.
While my father lay sleeping on the sweat-soaked sheets, I thumbed through a book of notes, reviewing possible solutions for each issue Rivale faced.
Death would claim him soon, yet he’d required me to keep him informed of every matter.
Despite his sallow skin and sunken body, he still packed a punch when doling out criticism.
“How are the three women?” my mother asked. “Anyone in particular you’re fond of?”
“They’re all fine.” I fidgeted with the corner of the page, not wanting to look up. I was sure she was as disappointed in me as my father was, but she would never admit it.
Life would have been much easier if I’d been born with my father’s magic. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been forced to marry at all in order to take the throne and instead I could’ve remained unmarried until I had my fill of women.
“Tell me about them,” she prompted.
After the meeting, my only goal was to speak with my father, not to entertain my mother with something as frivolous as blathering on about women.
With the exception of magic, we had little else in common.
She’d never asked or offered advice on anyone that entertained my time before, though I’d also never been so shackled with the requirement to marry.
“Allura is kind and soft-spoken.” I paused and kept my eyes on the page. “She’s best suited to be my bride and will be easy to mold into what Rivale needs in a queen.”
My mother curled her lips together as if she could keep her opinion to herself with pure force.
It was something she’d learned to do well as my father’s wife.
My father felt women were an accessory more than anything else.
Though I didn’t agree entirely, it was important for a woman to know her place in the court and kingdom.
“She comes from a noble family,” I continued, and turned the page. “As an only child, her mother trained her well for the obligations she bears, and her father understands the intricacies of policy, so she knows how things work.”
“I see,” she said, drawing in a breath. “What do you like about Allura?”
I flinched and looked up. “I just told you.”
My mother sat quietly.
“I suppose she’s nice to look at,” I said, contemplating my life with the woman. “She’d look fine attending events at my side—she’d fit in.”
My father shifted in bed, face distraught, despite his slumber. Some said when the land pulled a fae to their death, it was a painful experience. And though I’d never heard my father complain, he couldn’t hide his discomfort when he slept.
Walking to his side, my mother passed a damp cloth across his head and rested the back of her hand against his forehead. She frowned and sat back in the chair.
I never understood how she could be so kind to him after decades of dealing with his horrid temperament; my kindness didn’t extend as far as hers.
He was lucky he didn’t have to rely on me for his care because I would’ve just left him to the healers.
He would have done the same for me if I had fallen ill.
For as long as I could remember, he’d made it known he'd only married my mother after she’d become pregnant with me.
It was the first time a royal had married from another kingdom.
The public never discovered the treasonous detail, since he claimed she was from Rivale all along.
He’d paid a family to claim her as their daughter, and the two promptly died in a house fire the day after the marriage was complete.
When the magic of my mother’s kingdom came to me instead of my father’s, I was the only proof of his poor judgment.
It was for that reason he’d forced me to find my mate.
Accepting a bond allowed each person to entangle and share their magic with one another.
For generations, the kings of Rivale had possessed Divine magic, and nothing less was expected of me.
“Tell me about the others.” My mother pushed. “Since I don’t have the privilege of meeting the women myself, I must rely only on what you give to me, which I must say has been dismal.”
“Maris has hair as golden as the sunrise.” I smiled, recalling the time we spent down at the cliffs watching the sun crest. “She’s polite, understands the position and its requirements. And I think father would approve.”
“Do you approve?”
I shrugged. “Does it matter at this point? If I don’t make a choice soon, well—I refuse to consider the alternative.
” My gaze turned to my father. “It’s my right to take the throne, you know?
Why can’t I do so unmarried when he broke protocol just to marry you?
” My tone was more hostile than I’d expected, and by the look on my mother’s face, I’d struck the wrong target with my anger.
“I’m sorry,” I started, “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine.” She took a sip from a cup. “I know you meant no harm. There’s one more currently in residence, is there not?”
I nodded and looked at the floor, ashamed of my sharp insult.
She’d stood up for me time and time again, while I rebuked her heritage just as my father had done so often.
He was the last person I’d ever want to become, and yet there were so many times I’d behaved in the same way he had. Maybe he’d finally be proud of me.
“Continue, Son,” my mother requested.
I shifted in the chair. “Audryn is … interesting.” Explaining my intrigue wasn’t easy. I’d thought about it repeatedly and tried to convince myself why I’d been so drawn to her, yet I couldn’t articulate my own feelings.
“What pleases you about her?” My mother’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
“I can tell you what doesn’t.” I snickered.
“Her etiquette leaves a lot to be desired—she’s stubborn, crass, and it would take a lot of work to integrate her into the expectations of the crown.
” My thoughts drifted to the night before.
“She lacks discipline, but doesn’t allow others to trample her.
The fire in her is something the other two don’t have.
And though I’m challenged by her strong spirit, it would be useful to have her seated next to the throne. I feel most—”
“Who’s this you speak of?” My father’s voice was hoarse, but demanding.
My eyes shifted to the bed, where he lay with drooping lids. I’d seen him the evening before, and yet he seemed to have weakened overnight. Regardless of the strain between us, he was as much a part of me as I was of him, and I wasn’t ready for the connection to be severed.
“Boy!” my father snapped. “Who is this you speak of? Did you finally find someone to marry who will deal with your inadequacies?”
Maybe I was ready for him to die. “Her name is Audryn.” I lifted my chin to meet his harsh tone. Even with death knocking, he still knew how to cut me down. “She’s one of the three women I’m courting.”
“Do you feel a bond with her or not?” My father’s eyes narrowed on me.
“I’m not sure.” I shifted. “I suppose with some time I—”
“You’re nearly out of time—do you not see my end is near?” my father grumbled and stifled a cough. “Will you force my hand in the decision or are you capable of determining it for yourself?”
My eyes moved to my mother, who immediately found something interesting to focus on outside the window, despite the curtain partly blocking her view.
I couldn’t expect either of them to understand the difficulty of determining a bond; they hadn’t had to do it themselves.
It was rare for two strangers to feel the match immediately.
More often than not, it took several meetings before two fae felt the connection.
“There are more pressing matters to discuss,” I redirected. “Several ships were lost to the sea, the castle is in disrepair, and attacks from the witches continue.” I pushed, “The attack could have been mitigated if those aboard hadn’t feared the consequences of using their Divine abilities, but—”
“Find your mate and I will lift the ban, lest you risk being discovered as incompetent,” my father interrupted, a snarl curving his lips.
“Edric,” my mother snapped, “you will not speak to our son as if he is inferior. His ability will outmatch Rivale’s offerings every time.”
“Enough! This does not involve you.” My father lashed out. “Either sit quietly or leave—you are not needed.” He snapped his attention back to me. “Work down the list of issues so I may sort out a solution for you.”
My mother’s brows knitted together as she drew in a breath. If she’d had a dagger in her hand, she might’ve been tempted to end him before the land took him. I’d probably assist her in the matter—definitely wouldn’t impede her.
“A guard died from spalling a few days ago,” I breathed.
“Death happens, some sooner while others much later.” He pushed back in the bed, uncomfortable with the fact that his own death would happen much sooner than he’d like.
“Sure, however, the work Elowen has done with the bitumen is not holding in its new form. We either need to make repairs in its primary form and do our best to cover the sealed cracks or—”
“That is unacceptable.” My father turned to my mother. “Send a request for a meeting with the woman as soon as she is available.”
The irony of my father needing to request a meeting with a lowly female who held no power or rank in Rivale was comedic. But for some reason, he’d always given her preferential treatment. Never had he treated any others with the same respect, not even his own family—especially not his own family.
My mother moved to the door, the floral scent from her soap filling my nostrils as she passed. She leaned into the corridor and sent the request to the guard standing sentry.
“The ships need waterproofing”—I hesitated, being sure to choose my words carefully—“but we’re unable to do so because of the dwindling supply of crude. Our trade routes have been affected, as well as our ability to defend the coastline.”
My father grumbled faintly, adjusting the blankets up to his collarbone. He was shivering despite the thick layers of bedding he was buried under.
“All non-essential ships are moored, and we are utilizing only those which are sound enough for travel to continue trade.” After speaking to Commander Tashe, the decision seemed like the only reasonable one I could make.
Our kingdom hadn't experienced war in decades, so we could temporarily repurpose the battleships.
“You’ve made one decent decision on your own.” He lazily rolled his eyes. It was as close to a compliment as I could ever expect. “And King Grave? Has he responded to the request for a meeting?”
My father’s question made my stomach dip.
Not that I hadn’t intended to tell him what transpired, but I’d hoped to buy more time before I felt the weight of his disappointment.
I’d intentionally visited when I knew he’d be asleep, though that wasn't a challenge.
Lately, it seemed he spent more time unconscious than awake.
“He arrived a few days ago—”
My father interrupted, “You dared to wait days to advise me on the matter?”
“No, I came to see you several times, but you were resting.” I shot a look at my mother, silently begging her to step in and confirm my attempts to speak with him. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much to speak of. We weren’t able to find a resolution during the meeting.”
“Why would I expect anything other than failure from you?” my father scoffed. “Foolish of me to think otherwise.”
“It was only the initial meeting. We have another scheduled for the end of the week.” I chewed on my lip, realizing I’d bitten down too hard when the metallic tang hit my tongue.
“What was his request in return for the increased supply?”
I shook my head. “He says he has all he needs. It’s just a game for him … a crude game.”
My father lay still for several minutes, stewing quietly while I waited for either a dismissal or orders. Either would do; I only wanted to leave. The heat in the room was overwhelming. I adjusted my collar and looked for any sort of refreshment, but came up empty.
“You will offer Grave whatever he wants, as long as it is within reason.” He shifted and winced. “I have yet to find a contented royal, you simply have to exploit his desires. Focus on that.”
It was a sound plan, and one I stupidly hadn’t considered. Despite my father’s temperament, he’d always come through for Rivale. If I took bits and pieces of how he ruled and applied them to my reign, the people would recognize me as the best king they’d ever had; it was only a matter of time.
The door opened without a knock, and Elowen strolled in.
Every step was unhurried and devoid of the reverence my father deserved.
Her long black hair was braided and hung over one shoulder.
The locks contrasted sharply against the amount of bare skin exposed from the black sleeveless corset snugly fitted to her thin silhouette.
A silver shimmering skirt swished as she walked to my father’s side.
As she passed, her eyes slid to me, one corner of her mouth curled upward.
My mother immediately stood and offered me a hand as she moved toward the door. I looked at her with annoyance. I wasn’t a child who needed to be led from the room while the adults engaged in conversation. But I knew whatever my father was going to speak on was not for me to hear; it never was.