9. CHAPTER 9
Sorin
The ship destined for Scaldrithor with the load of weaponry from Faedwyn never arrived. I had waited down by the docks all afternoon for sight of the vessel, but none ever came.
Too angry to storm back into castle Gothryn, I sprouted my wings, taking to the skies to scour the Saltale Sea for an incoming ship. I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt—maybe they were simply behind schedule.
But the only inbound vessel was one full of humans sent from Myros. A gift to mollify us and hopefully foster a tentative peace between our two kingdoms once more. We had plenty of humans…but we accepted the offering anyway.
There was no such thing as too much blood.
Especially when we needed to keep up our strength and reserves.
Frustrated, I flew back toward the castle.
I detoured south to fly over Southgate and castle Stormgaard as the sun descended over the horizon, casting Gothryn’s skyline in tangerine-colored hues.
I missed Stormgaard.
It had been months since my father had called me back to castle Gothryn to train by his side. I yearned to return home. That’s what Stormgaard was to me.
Home.
Over a century ago I had constructed the Gothic castle, a lone apparition hidden among the ebony cliffs that curved around it.
It was the solitary edifice that occupied the small island, taking up almost all the available land above the crashing waves below the steep cliffs.
Stormgaard was an island a few miles beyond Southgate—easily accessible if you were a shifter and had wings, but private enough to escape court.
The politics of court had never been my forte, and I desired a place all to myself. There was no one there to whisper in my ear. No one to hold my questionable parentage over me. No one to breathe incessantly down my neck and criticize my every movement.
I gazed down at the empty castle from my place in the sky, mournful of the blissful few weeks I had spent there before receiving news of King Mavros’s decline. I doubted I would be able to return any time soon, but I would wish for it anyway.
I turned east, doubling back toward the Gothryn palace. By the time I set foot on the railing to my balcony, the sun had set. Gothryn was enveloped in an eerie, moonless dark.
I cast my gaze skyward and a soft smile turned up the corners of my lips.
I loved a moonless night.
The stars were on full display, twinkling brightly overhead. I might have to sleep outside tonight—it was too beautiful of a night to squander. The night air was cool against my skin, lifting tendrils of hair off my face as I released an exhausted exhale.
I pushed the double doors to my rooms inward and was surprised to find Rensford there, a book in his hands as he leaned back in his chair.
His booted feet were kicked up on the slip-covered ottoman.
I narrowed my eyes at him as I moved toward him, kicking the ottoman out from beneath him.
His legs fell to the ground with a frustrated huff.
“Not only do you invade my rooms, but you don’t even have the decency to take your shoes off?” I asked, turning toward the washroom as I scrubbed a hand through my hair.
“I have news,” was his only reply, his voice strained.
My interest piqued and I turned back, mouth parted.
I noticed he had also pushed the delicate decanter aside to place his book atop the table beside him.
A whisper of anger sizzled up my spine. I wanted everything in my chambers to be just so.
I spent hours meticulously organizing my things.
I knew the exact way I had left them. I eyed the decanter before marching forward to pour myself a drink.
I offered Ren the second glass, but he declined, shaking his head. He ran a hand down his own face, his dark skin taking on a tawny glow beneath the flickering lantern light.
“As your oldest friend, am I allowed to say I am worried about you?”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you worried about me, Ren?”
I took a generous sip, the liquor burning its way down my throat.
“Yes,” he admitted, crossing his muscled arms over his chest. “It has been days since you have taken a feeder. You have been meeting with your father daily—which is stressful enough as it is. Then there’s Emrys, breathing down your neck about the crown being rightfully his.
Not to mention the curse has taken root deeper than I’ve ever seen before.
Azhar is concerned it has moved to your arm.
It’s spreading. You are having trouble focusing.
Trouble shifting. I’ve never seen you so—”
“Weak?” I asked, grinning wide enough to show my sharpened teeth. “Thanks for the reminder—but I can handle it.”
I took another sip.
“Can you?” he asked, rising to his feet to stand before me.
He wasn’t nearly as tall as I was, but where I was lean muscle, he was pure strength.
He more than made up for the fact that he wasn’t a dragon shifter with hours and hours in the training yard, cultivating impressive muscle.
“You don’t need to carry this weight on your own. If there is anything I can do to help…”
“There isn’t,” I replied sharply. “I appreciate you Ren, I really do. But I have it under control.”
He was thoughtful for a long moment, wondering if he should push me or not. He came to the right conclusion, my anger already simmering beneath the surface. Ire rose within, quick as the turning tide. It drew back out into the ocean depths just as swiftly.
“If you’re sure…” he replied, his tone unconvinced as he watched me.
“I’m sure.” I sat in the chair he had vacated, kicking my own booted feet up onto the ottoman. His eyes flashed, mouth tight. I scoffed. “It’s my ottoman.”
He shook his head at me. “Are you interested in the news I’ve waited alone, in your chambers, for hours to bring?”
“Nobody said you had to wait alone.” I winked.
Down went another sip.
Ren eyed the glass as if he wanted to smash it out of my hand. It was one of the few vices I had left to keep myself in control.
“Where were you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
I sucked air through my teeth and chided him. “Did you forget about our meeting with Faedwyn? Too preoccupied yourself? Should I be the one who is worried?”
“I did not forget,” Rensford replied, “I simply had another task from your father.”
“Ah, my father’s favorite errand boy. I mean…commander. Soon those days will be over once I take the throne.”
“Then I can be your errand boy.” Ren laughed.
“Exactly.” My smile was earnest now, the grin spreading across my face. “What is it that you needed to tell me in private? I must say, you have piqued my interest.”
Ren inhaled deeply, steeling himself. Whatever it was, he was sure I was going to push back.
“There is a rumor spreading among court that Prince Kallias Ashbourne’s mistress is aboard the vessel that docked in the harbor in Scaldrithor.”
A muscle in my jaw twitched as I raised the glass to my mouth once more. “Good for her, I guess? How does this gossip affect us in any capacity?”
“She’s human,” Ren replied.
I inclined my head. “Didn’t expect the slimy little prince to take a human to his bed—but I still fail to see how this affects us?”
“You need to keep a close eye on her. What reason could a human have for coming to Gothryn other than joining the blood trade or finding work? There’s plenty of work in Myros. They say she is among the contingent of humans designated for servitude in the castle.”
My head fell back as I laughed. “It’s quite obvious, isn’t it?
Ashbourne could never take a human as a wife.
King Faris would rather burn the entire continent than see a human rule atop his throne.
She’s been sent away. By the devious Queen Dyata, no doubt.
She always was quite the—” I didn’t finish that sentence, leaning forward to grasp the decanter and topping off my drink with a raised brow instead.
“You don’t think that…odd? They aren’t sending her to their previous ally in Sylvaris. They are sending her directly into the heart of a rival kingdom. Which need I remind you, has just tenuously agreed to peace.”
“Punishment?” I offered. “Whatever it is…I don’t care.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Ren replied, taking the seat opposite me and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “I see an opportunity here.”
“An opportunity?” I asked, drawing closer. “What sort of opportunity?”
“Imagine it—Kallias Ashbourne learning that his mistress is your housemaid. That his beloved human is not only working for you…but your servant. We could use it against him.”
I shook my head. “King Faris and Queen Dyata couldn't care less what happens to a human daring enough to travel into Vireth territory—if she comes of her own accord. If she was sent, it is a trap.”
Ren nodded. “Her reputation precedes her. They weren’t counting on that.
We have the upper hand here, and we can use it.
We can use her to our advantage. King Faris and Queen Dyata might not care what happens to her, but Kallias certainly does.
Rumor has it he is completely enamored with her.
He has declared they are betrothed. He plans to marry her. ”
“Was the prince not betrothed to that royal from Emberfell mere days ago?” I asked. “There is no way a human will ever sit the throne of Myros. Ever.”
“Maybe not,” Ren agreed, “but that doesn’t change how Kallias feels about her. She can be our bargaining chip.”
“But the little prince isn’t destined to take the throne for decades, at the very least. He isn’t in the same position I am,” I reminded him.
“Maybe not, but he has sway with his parents. He is the only heir, and they cannot risk alienating him. He has no other princes breathing down his neck, vying for the throne.”
“That might be true,” I agreed, deep in thought. “But how much could she truly be worth to them?”