Chapter 16 #2
The man fights Anna as she walks him toward the house, but there’s something half-hearted about it that makes me think it’s all for show. His feet move willingly enough. Her hands are gripped like vices around the back of his neck and his wrist. Their silhouettes grow closer and closer.
I don’t see their faces until they step into the foyer.
The breath catches in my chest as I lay eyes on the King’s spy.
Perfect. Stunning. Dark. Beautiful.
Those are the words that immediately come to mind when I look at this man.
Flawless skin. I mean flawless. His eyes are darkly hooded, hiding flat black eyes. A perfectly manicured short beard hugs his incredibly sculpted jaw. A muscular body is covered in some kind of tunic. A turban wraps around his head.
He stares at me, and it feels as if he’s staring through me.
This man is gorgeous.
“Hello, Alivia Ryan, daughter of Lord Henry Conrath.”
And his voice… His accent is strong—Middle Eastern, but his voice is like butter.
I blink once, snapping myself out of my daze. My eyes flash back to his and I remind myself that this man has been spying on me.
“If you wanted to introduce yourself, you should have just knocked on the front door.” I fold my arms over my chest, probably not looking particularly regal in my pajamas, but I’ll work with what I have. I cock an eyebrow at him.
He studies me approvingly, his own brow rising slightly. “My intension was not an introduction, but intelligence.”
“I would have told you anything you wanted to know.” I stare him down, but find it isn’t an easy thing to do. His gaze is intense, and there’s something…wicked, about it. So I break contact and look at Anna. “You can let him go.”
She shakes her head. “He’s been spying. You know nothing about him. What if he tries something?”
I offer her a small, soothing smile. “I really appreciate your concern, Anna. I know I’m always safe with you around. But considering what the King wants from me, and that this man was sent here on his behest, I think I’ll be okay. Am I right?” I look back at our visitor.
He smiles again, studying me. “I promise you no harm will come from me.”
He’s very specific about his words.
“How about we all adjourn to the dining room?” I ask of my House.
I start toward the dining room when Markov leans in close, close enough for his lips to brush my ear. “You need to carefully consider every word you say. He’s a descendent of the seventh son.”
Markov doesn’t get the opportunity to explain more, but his warning is understood.
I sit at the head of the table, the spy at the opposite end. To my right sits Rath, Nial, Lillian. Anna is down on the end, right next to the man. To my left is Samuel, Markov, and Cameron.
I have the sense that someone is missing. And it takes me a moment to realize what is causing the feeling.
Ian.
There are no moments for mourning now though, so I clear my throat and turn my eyes on the spy.
“I guess a good place to start is for you to tell us who the hell you are,” I say as I fold my arms on the table and lean forward.
He folds his own hands and mirrors my position exactly. A smile curls on his lips as he does. “My name is Raheem, and I am a member of the King’s Court.”
“The court consists of only Royal descendants of the King,” Markov says.
And I am immeasurably grateful for his words.
I feel at a disadvantage now, because I still know so little.
But Markov is so very old. “They are those who are not House leaders, and do not reside in a House. They are often the King’s favorites. ”
I look back at Raheem. “Are you a favorite of the King?”
His eyes quickly scan my House members, and suddenly I wonder: how large is the average House size? Am I laughable, a tiny drop with no one at my side at all? Or is this more than a good start?
“I am a tool of the King’s. Whether he likes me or hates me, he needs me too much for opinions to matter,” he answers. “I’ve served the King for over nine centuries. No one replaces me.”
So much for Markov being old.
“You make me think the feelings of simple needfulness go both ways,” I say as I tilt my head. “Do you serve your king out of true loyalty, or out of habit?”
Raheem chuckles and it’s a deep, low thing. “You are a gem, aren’t you, Alivia? One who says things without fear, despite her very human status.”
And as if on cue, each of my House members stiffens and many eyes flare red.
Raheem doesn’t look nervous though. He seems amused. “A human who has gained loyalty I’ve yet seen. I do applaud you.”
I’m not sure what to say. I’m not entirely sure what to do. I’ve tried capturing Raheem for some time now, but with so many other fish on my plate, I didn’t give much thought as to what I would do when I caught him.
“How long have you been spying on me?” I ask, because it’s been forefront on my mind for some time.
“A while.” And the cold smile on his lips tells me he will say no more.
“The King will arrive within two weeks,” he moves on when I do not say anything and I feel that is the first mistake I have made in this meeting. “He will check to be sure you are actually of Royal blood. Mistakes have been made in the past, claims made that were untrue.”
Yikes. What if I really weren’t a Royal Born and lost my fear of death, only to learn too late that I wasn’t an immortal after all?
“Once confirmed, you will begin receiving money every month to maintain your House.” Raheem reaches into a breast pocket on his black tunic and pulls out a piece of paper.
He slides it with enough force that it makes it all the way down the table to me.
“But for now, until confirmation is made, this is for you and what is hopefully the return of the South Eastern United States House.”
I take the piece of paper, picking it up, and realize it is a check. With my name on it. Written in the amount of one million dollars.
I’m about to call him out for the King attempting to buy my loyalty, when I realize I’m doing the exact same thing with all of Silent Bend.
“King Cyrus is very generous,” I say. I have no idea how much my father left me, just that there are more zero’s attached to it than I will ever be able to spend, so really, only six of them should be somewhat unimpressive.
But only six months ago I had a grand total of a two and two zeros to my name.
“It isn’t much, but you can call it a show of good faith,” Raheem says. “The Conrath name has deep origins, being established just four generations from the King. They were a proud and prosperous family. And if you are who you say you are, you are the only one left.”
Suddenly I feel guilty for not claiming my family’s name. If I am to be the last one, the name will die with me.
Yet so will the Ryan name. The only daughter of an only daughter.
“You haven’t seen the picture of her father yet,” Samuel pipes up. “She looks just like Henry.”
“Oh, I’ve met Henry, on two different occasions,” Raheem says as his eyes go to Samuel. “And yes, I know how much she looks like him. But looks can be deceiving, but blood never lies.”
I resist the urge to bite the inside of my lip, buying myself some more time to say whatever it is I’m supposed to say.
I’m learning the difference now in the Born—who are old and sometimes wise and a force to be reckoned with, and the Royals—who have so many connections and history that I cannot comprehend.
“Well, we look forward to meeting the King and seeing how events turn out,” I say. I stand, and instantly, so does everyone else. “There’s no sense in you sneaking around any longer now that we’ve all met. You may stay here, with us.”
And for a moment, I wonder if I’ve gone too far, because each of my House members stiffen and all their eyes dart to me.
I don’t look at any of them though. This is my decision. This is my House. And it’s my call.
“Thank you very much, Alivia,” Raheem says as he smiles at me with that devil’s grin. “I think I’ll very much enjoy staying in your House.”