Chapter 2
He was born second.
A late and most unwelcome arrival, for the King and Queen of Lordach weren’t sure what to do with a spare. And if Kinlear was the second-born, the shuddering shadow...
Then Arawn was the sun, powerful and bright.
“Is he here, Mother?” Kinlear asked now.
He was only five, small and thin, staring up at the Queen of Lordach as she sighed and sat down once more on the edge of his four-post bed. She had hair like Arawn, like strands of woven snow. Kinlear looked more like his father...who he hadn’t seen in days.
The king preferred to spend his time with Arawn when he returned from the battlefield. In fact, if he really thought about it...Kinlear couldn’t remember a single night that his father had tucked him in.
“Your brother is in his bed, Kinlear,” the queen said now. “Just across the hall, as he always is. And probably already asleep, as you should be.”
She narrowed her eyes at him in warning.
“I’m not talking about Arawn,” Kinlear said, and shook his head. His dark curls fell into his eyes, and she brushed them away with a swipe of her ringed fingers, a tsk of her tongue. He pulled the blankets up to his chin and shivered. “I’m talking about the monster.”
Her eyes narrowed even more.
This time, in utter exasperation. “Kinlear Laroux. You’ve been warned twice today about telling lies. Once more, and it’s penance you’ll pay.”
She often gave him three chances.
If she didn’t, he would have been covered from head to toe in penance marks.
Not Arawn.
Never Arawn, who was born pious from his very first cry.
“It’s not a lie,” Kinlear said, eyes wide.
“It’s always there in the dark place, waiting for me.
It could even be here. Right. Now.” He glanced at the floorboards, where the shadows were thick beneath his bed.
Where a claw could so easily reach him. He shifted deeper beneath his covers as the queen sighed yet again.
She didn’t believe him.
She never believed him.
“There are no monsters here,” she said.
He crossed his small arms and leveled his gaze on her. “Prove it.”
“Your challenging nature doesn’t come from me,” she said, raising a pale brow.
But she stood, and went to the enormous window across the room, where she pulled the heavy velvet curtains open.
It was just enough to send a beam of cool wardlight into the room.
It bounded off the white rhinestones on her nightgown, as if it were made of tiny stars.
“There will never be monsters inside the Citadel, Little Prince. Not while we live protected by the power of the Five.” A snap of fabric, and the curtains were closed once more.
“Sleep. And no more speaking of this, or it’s penance you’ll pay.
” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, her smell sweet as roses.
“You must always remember. A Sacred does not tell lies.”
She left him alone, trembling in the darkness.
He fought to stay awake as long as he could. Beyond his window, the world rumbled with the whisper of war. Somewhere out there, his father led a sea of Sacred and nomages in the battle against the Acolyte.
Somewhere out there, shadow monsters with wings and talons tore apart the sky. It was enough to frighten any child.
But it was the monster waiting only for Kinlear – the one inside his mind – that even the strongest of Sacred Knights would have feared.