Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
“How do I look, Umbra?” Wraith sat at the vanity in his room.
Umbra circled Wraith, rubbing her wispy body against him.
“You look beautiful!” the hellhound answered. “Beyond amazing! No one has ever been more beautiful than you!”
Although others could see her, no one could hear Umbra speak, except for Wraith, the necromancer who had created her.
Wraith smiled. He leaned down to pat Umbra’s head. “Thank you.”
Umbra sat on her heels, her smoky, translucent tongue lolling.
Of course, Umbra always thought Wraith looked good. But would Wraith’s betrothed think the same?
He fiddled with the silver belt cinched at his waist. He touched a hand to his hair. He met his own gaze in the mirror, trying to decide if he should do anything else for his betrothal ball.
“I hope he likes me,” Wraith said.
“Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re wonderful!” Umbra said. “He’ll adore and love you like I do!”
Wraith smiled. Unfortunately, Wraith was less certain about his future husband’s affection. He adjusted the circlet that rested on his head. It had been fashioned from silver and made to look like bones laid in a circle.
What will my new husband be like? What will his family be like?
He did not know that much about Draconia and its people. But Wraith would need to move there and live in the Castle of the Dragons after his marriage to King Konrad. Wraith would live there for the rest of his life. Wraith tugged at his sleeves and let out a slow breath.
Perhaps it would be an opportunity for a fresh start. Maybe some Draconians might even like him. Possibly he would make friends. He’d never had friends before. But how did one make friends?
“It would be nice to have someone who liked me,” Wraith said as he adjusted the circlet on his head once more.
“I like you!” Umbra jumped, paws resting on Wraith’s legs.
Wraith laughed and patted her head. “I know. And I adore you too.” He paused. “But it would be nice if someone human liked me as well.”
Umbra dropped down and butted her head against Wraith’s shins. “They will like you because you are the best human in the whole world!”
Wraith chuckled. A knock sounded on the door. He turned as it opened. Umbra disappeared in an instant, and a second later Wraith understood why.
Shadow King Lament Grimm stepped into the room. Wraith stood and pulled his shoulders back. Umbra had been ordered by Wraith to always make herself scarce when the shadow king appeared.
“Your Majesty.” Wraith bowed, shocked that the shadow king had entered Wraith’s room. He always avoided Wraith. “To what do I owe the honour?”
The shadow king did not speak as he floated forward, gaze raking over the contents of Wraith’s room. Finally, his gaze rested on Wraith.
Wraith stopped himself from flinching. The shadow king so rarely looked directly at him.
“Tonight is your betrothal ball,” the shadow king said.
“I expect you to be on your best behaviour.” His lip curled.
“You are not smart, or bright, or cunning. All in all, your existence has been a trial. The least you can do now is marry that repugnant dragon king and ensure that everything goes forward as planned.”
Wraith’s family had always hated the dragons.
In fact, he had been surprised when they’d agreed to the truce.
For a long time, they’d fought their allies regarding a peace treaty.
Although, honestly, his family also despised their allies from Botanial, the Grey Mountains, and the combined Kingdoms of Voltaria and Zephyrias almost as much as they despised the dragons.
The shadow king and queen had only agreed to an alliance out of necessity when the dragons invaded their lands. But after twenty years of the war raging on, their allies had wanted peace. They talked of their magic weakening as the war continued. But unlike their allies, Necros had been thriving.
But after numerous meetings with their allies and the monks, who all pushed for peace with Draconia, the shadow king and queen had relented.
However, it now seemed that there was opposition to the peace treaty here at the White Monastery, with plots and attacks taking place.
Wraith had no clue who was behind it or what was going on.
He didn’t even know many of the details of what had occurred, since not many spoke to him.
But Wraith often had no idea what was going on, so that was not unusual.
“I will do my best, Your Majesty.” Wraith’s voice trembled.
The shadow king scoffed. “Your best. Unfortunately your best is so often lacking. At least try not to behave oddly. Stop staring at walls and getting distracted by nothing. It’s beneath a royal of Necros.”
“Of course. I will try, Your Majesty.” Wraith inclined his head.
“You will do more than try,” the shadow king spat. “In the coming days, I expect you will amend your behaviour to be suitable enough so that King Konrad does not cast you aside in repulsion.” He paused. “Just act with dignity. For once.”
The shadow king stared at Wraith. Wraith’s throat convulsed.
“Your very existence has always been a thorn in my side. Do not fail at this.” Then, with a swirl of his robes, the shadow king stormed from the room.
Wraith let out a breath as the door clicked shut. He collapsed onto a chair. A second later, Umbra reappeared. She whined and rested her head on Wraith’s lap. Wraith stroked his fingers through her foggy fur.
“He is so mean to you! I’m so sorry he is so mean to you.” Umbra’s tail hung low.
“I’m all right.” Wraith tried to smile. “I’m just not used to him looking or talking to me.”
Umbra licked at his fingers with her cold tongue.
“I’ll be okay. I promise.” For Wraith’s entire life, the shadow king had barely even looked at Wraith. And when he had, it was with so much abhorrence and rage that Wraith preferred to be ignored.
In his early years, he’d not known what he’d done to earn such loathing. He knew now.
Unfortunately, the king’s displeasure at Wraith’s existence had been known by all the nobles and royals of Necros. They had taken their king’s lead, ignoring or scorning Wraith, despite never knowing the reason why.
Wraith’s peculiarities, a result of his powers, only added to him being further ostracised. Unlike many other necromancers, his abilities had never been to raise or control the dead.
No. Wraith was a psychopomp. A reaper. He led spirits who did not pass over on their own to the other side. In years long past, reapers were revered, respected, and honoured for their ability to allow the dead to properly rest.
But truth was, his powers to lead people to the next world had not been so helpful during the war.
Then they had needed necromancers to raise the dead and make them fight.
Wraith’s powers did not work like that. Although, he had still been a part of the war effort. His skills could still be utilised.
But being a reaper meant that he’d existed between life and death. Across two worlds. And that had always seemed to make him peculiar, even to other necromancers.
“Maybe the people in our new home will find me less odd and dislike me less,” Wraith whispered.
“I’m sure they will. They will know you and won’t be able to help loving you!” Umbra said. “You’re wonderful!”
Wraith wrapped his arms around Umbra. He wasn’t so certain. Still, he hoped.
He left his room, Umbra trotting along beside him. He couldn’t bring himself to dismiss her. He needed her support tonight. His siblings lounged in the sitting room.
Vex’s nose wrinkled. “I can’t wait to be back in Necros. I despise everyone here.”
Harrow sipped his tea. Then he lifted his gaze to the door. His eyes narrowed. “Wraith, stop lurking around like a fucking ghost! Go haunt some other part of the monastery.”
The two broke out in laughter. Wraith rushed on.
They, like the rest of Necros, had followed their father’s lead. But as a child, he’d never understood why they wanted nothing to do with their younger brother.
He slowed as he passed the open door to his mother’s room. She sat at her vanity. She shook and threw human finger bones. They rattled as they settled on the wood. She tilted her head, reading the bones.
“Come in, Wraith,” she called, not looking in his direction.
“Wait here,” he said to Umbra. Then, ducking his head, he entered her room. He stopped behind her. He held his breath, uncertain if she would find him lacking or not today.
She studied him with her cool grey eyes. “You look suitable for your betrothal ball.”
“I am glad I am up to standard.” His mother was the only person in his family who tolerated him. Not that she was particularly affectionate or caring.
She glanced back at the bones. She held her hand over them, her fingers twitching. “Critical days lay before us. What comes to pass will influence the future of Necros.”
Her gaze turned back to Wraith. “And you will play a part. Your marriage to King Konrad, the dragon king, is your chance to prove yourself, Wraith. To be useful to Necros.”
Wraith bowed. “I will do all I can to make you and the shadow king proud.”
“Good.” She stood, chair legs scraping on the wooden floor. “But do not forget, even though you are marrying the dragon king, you are still a shadow prince of Necros. Your loyalty is to us. Not to Draconia.”
“I will remember, Mother,” Wraith said.
His mother’s pale hand reached out and cupped his cheek. Her skin felt dry and cool. It was a simple touch, but his mother might have slapped him for the shock that went through his body.
His mother never touched him. No one living did.
But maybe she was proud of Wraith for doing his part for Necros. Maybe this was her forgiving him for all the difficulties his existence had caused her. Maybe if this marriage worked and the treaty was finalised, his mother and his family would finally be accepting of him.
He doubted he could ever earn the shadow king’s approval. But if Wraith acted appropriately, then perhaps the king would look at him without anger.
His mother dropped her hand. “Now let us go to your betrothal ball to King Konrad of Draconia.”