Chapter 9
VALANCE
I headed down to the dining room to meet my father. A little delicate after all the red wine and fucking until sunrise. My body still buzzed from the mermen. I’d rather be in bed, lingering in that memory than hurrying to meet the king.
When His Majesty calls…
The dining room was empty. The grand oak table free of breakfast things, the vast space registering every one of my footsteps with an echo.
So empty, so cold without people in it. Golden walls and portraits of my family—kings and queens gone by—and a crystal chandelier dangling above the gleaming wood of the table.
Not a king in sight.
A fae servant manifested behind me—a brownie. Female with a brown hair net covering her gray hair, her green-hued skin as cracked as worn leather. She blinked brown eyes at me, wielding a broom.
“Begging pardon, Highness,” she said.
I stepped out of her way to let her sweep.
“Thank you kindly. I can wait if you wants to stand here longer.” She lowered her head. “Shame on me for asking ya to move. Shame. Shame. Shame.”
“Don’t be silly,” I replied. “You need to do your job. I don’t want to get in your way. Only, I’m surprised to see this room empty.”
She seemed confused but nodded in agreement as she’d never question her prince.
“Have you seen my father?”
“No, Highness. Sorry to say I haven’t seen his gracious Majesty this morning.”
Had I missed something?
“Can I helps ya with anything, Highness?” the brownie asked.
“No. I’m fine, thank you. I’m just puzzled. I am supposed to be having breakfast with him. I assumed we would hold here it. More fool me for assuming.”
“You’re no fool, Highness.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
Where could he be?
As I decided to head up to his chambers, a human servant arrived. Male. A little hassled.
“Your Highness.” He bowed. “A thousand apologies.” He caught his breath. He’d clearly been in a hurry.
“Take your time,” I said.
The brownie carried on with her sweeping.
The human regained some composure. “Sorry, Your Highness. The king will not be taking breakfast here this morning. He wishes you to attend him in his chambers.”
“Why are you shaking?” I asked.
“Apologies.”
“Did he switch his plans on you?”
He hesitated.
I held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. I know you’d never speak badly of your king. Thank you for telling me. I’ll head there now.”
He bowed as I swept past.
Poor man. My father was notorious for changing plans at the last moment. Particularly with servants. They would receive a tongue lashing for his folly, for his cruelty.
The bastard.
I hurried up endless stairwells. The palace seemed so much bigger when you were in a hurry.
Eventually, a little hot and irritated and hungover, I arrived at the doorway to Crown Tower.
The second tallest tower in the palace. The tallest, Sovereign Tower, had once been the official quarters of the king and queen, but now it only housed my mother.
I waited in the opulent corridor of gold and pink walls and carpet, of magnificent chandeliers and yet more portraits. The eyes of my ancestors seemed to follow me, to regard and judge me as they did when I saw them in the flesh—the living ones.
“His Majesty will see you now,” one of the human guards protecting my father’s door said.
“Thank you.”
I swept up the spiral stairs rather than taking the lift. Riding that golden cage, enduring the rickety climb up the tower… The makings of nightmares. Those creaks, the shakes, they were all haunting sounds from my childhood.
I met two more guards outside the chamber doors. They let me inside.
My father’s residence was decorated blue—many shades of both light and dark. His favorite color, and completely different from most of the décor of the palace. Mother would’ve never allowed so much blue when they shared a room.
My heart twinged at the thought of her. Not for long. Father’s raised voice put an end to that. Yelling at a human servant again, threatening violence. Danu, he looked pathetic. A ranting shell of his former self. Still, a servant under the king’s wrath would always be the weaker of the two.
“Get out of here!” the king barked at the woman.
She hurried out, bowed at me as she passed.
The door closed behind me. “Your Majesty.”
“Good morning, Son.” His anger became a pleasant tone. As if the scolding hadn’t occurred.
“Is everything okay, Father?” I asked.
He smiled. “Always the curious fae, aren’t you?”
Rather than shrug with nonchalance, I offered him a light chuckle. “Indeed.”
“Silly matters of staff being lazy,” he answered. “Not something to give much air to. Anyway, let us eat.”
The vast room had its own dining table, which was free of any breakfast.
“Forgive me, Father, but—”
He roared with laughter. “Baffled, are we?”
My muscles tensed, my hands threatening to become fists.
“Oh, do I have a surprise for you, Valance.”
I’d rather not endure a surprise.
He shuffled over to his huge bookshelf, weaving through four blue armchairs around a small table with a golden goblet resting on it. Half filled with red wine.
“An impressive collection,” I told him. Meaning it. I loved books, being a voracious reader. And this certainly was a spectacular balance of both fiction and non-fiction to feed the mind with.
The king removed a book from the shelf, a battered red leather tome with gold lettering on its spine. About trees. As he pulled it, a click came from behind the bookcase. Then the grinding. The wooden structure slid open to reveal a small doorway.
“Come and see your surprise,” my father said. He ducked through the hole, shimmying along in his slippers.
For a moment, I stood dumbfounded at this surprise. Hidden from me, a premier explorer of this palace. Father’s secret room of bare gray walls, wooden floors, and a bookshelf mirroring the one in his chambers. It appeared to be stuffed with the same texts outside.
It was a small space, close to cramped, but with enough room for us both to sit at the dining table. Dust lingered in the air, and the heat made it stuffy. I wanted to leave.
Toast and various jams, butter, a teapot releasing curls of steam from its spout sat on a pine table with two chairs. I took a seat after he sat down and told me I could.
“I hope this is adequate,” my father said.
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
He picked up some overdone toast and slapped butter on it.
“Now we’re alone,” he said and bit into his food.
I watched him eat, the thickly applied butter oozing down his chin.
Crumbs clung to the sides of his mouth, his lips smacking loudly as he devoured his breakfast. It was enough to turn me off mine.
And I loathed burned toast. I liked a nicely golden slice with a thin layer of jam. No need for all of that butter.
Disgusting.
Still, I displayed politeness and poured some tea for him and me, then prepared my toast.
“Do not fear poison,” he said through his second mouthful. “My tasters have already tested everything.”
I should think so. I nodded and added milk to his tea. “Sugar, Father?”
“Three.”
Yuck. I added the cubes for him.
“Thank you, Son. This is most kind of you.” He smiled. “Looking after your papa.”
I smiled back, not meaning a single stretch of my lips. “This is nice.”
“We should enjoy breakfast together more often.”
“That would be lovely.” No, that would be certain hell. “But, Father, I have to ask you. Why this odd room?”
He laughed, spraying crumbs everywhere.
I failed to see the humor.
He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Secrets everywhere, are there not? Even from you, my curious son. I remember how you used to explore every corner of this palace. But never found this room, never even sniffed it out, did you?”
“I did not, Father. Well done for keeping it so well hidden.”
He grunted and ate more toast.
This time, he finished chewing before speaking. “Do not talk down to me.”
I recoiled a little. “Father, I…” My cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It wasn’t my intention to—”
Obnoxious laughter. “You silly boy. But enough of this. I’m tired of small talk.”
Not much small talk has taken place.
I waited for him to speak again.
“I brought you here,” he said, “to remove ourselves from observation.” He licked crumbs from his lips. “These are details meant for the likes of you and me, Son. No one else. You must keep these cards I give you close to your chest. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
He leaned forward. “This Fomorian you have locked away. He is a shadow sorcerer with a power we haven’t seen for a long time.”
I nodded. “Yes, Father.” Why was he repeating facts?
“Think about this for a moment. Let the information roll around in your mind.” The king waited, staring at me. “Well? Tell me your thoughts.”
I resisted a frown. “I’m thinking I should kill him today. Lingering torture may not be beneficial to us. We don’t understand his power, his capabilities.”
Truth. I’d woken up thinking about it, along with considering what my father wanted to discuss, and the mermen. The latter seemed as if it’d taken place in a different world now. Any lingering pleasure had been killed off.
Father shook his head. “No, no, no. I’m disappointed with your lack of imagination.” He sighed. “Your brother would have been on my level instantly.”
How much of a sin would it be to throw the hot tea in his face? To hurt my father? The blessed goddess Danu wouldn’t be best pleased for a son to take a hand, or hot liquid, to his father.
I killed the temptation. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” The words were ashes on my tongue.
He waved another dismissive hand. “You are who you are. Anyway, let me put this to you.” He cleared his throat.
“What if we were to use the power of the sorcerer? Do not speak yet, please. Listen. Learn.” The king picked up a napkin and dabbed at his slim nose.
“We have many means of torture and coercion. There is nothing we cannot do to get what we want. We can work to break this fae’s mind, to make him ours. ”
My father had lost his mind.