Chapter 47
Chapter
Forty-Seven
“What?” Konrad’s eyes widened. He scanned the ballroom. Shadow King Lament Grimm stood with several nobles from Necros. The shadow king definitely did not appear dead in any way, shape, or form.
Unless he is undead. But he definitely doesn’t look undead.
Wraith laughed, a bitter, pained noise, unlike any sound Wraith had made before. “No. He isn’t my father.”
Wraith took one of the cups of punch from Konrad’s hand and took a deep gulp. “I never knew my father. Growing up, all I knew was that my mother had betrayed the shadow king and slept with someone else. Then she birthed me.”
Konrad stared at Wraith. He had no words. They’d heard no intel of such a thing. Not even a rumour or a whisper. Of course, the necromancers had always been good at keeping Draconian spies out.
“Does the shadow king know?” Konrad asked.
Wraith grimaced. “Oh yes. He knew even before I was born. I didn’t know when I was very young. So I had no idea why he hated me. But in time, I found out the truth.” He took another gulp of the punch.
It had no alcohol in it, and Konrad wondered if he should go get Wraith some wine. Or something stronger.
“It isn’t known throughout Necros that I am not his son,” Wraith said.
“But the shadow king always treated me poorly. His displeasure at my existence was clear to all, even if they did not know the reason for it. So everyone kept their distance, fearful that the king’s dislike of me might spread to any who got close enough. ”
Wraith’s face twitched. “My father was executed for treason. I suppose it is treason when you bed the shadow queen and put your child in her belly.” His voice tightened.
“I am just lucky that the shadow king did not drown me at birth, considering that my very existence was a threat to the Royal House of Necros. For that, I have always been grateful.” Wraith’s voice came out flat and wooden, like maybe this was something he’d been told he should feel.
Konrad shook his head. “No. You should not be grateful for that! You had no control over your birth or your parentage!”
It did explain a great deal though. Wraith appeared like an outsider amongst his family and his fellow compatriots. Now Konrad knew why. “But I am sorry. You should not have a family like that. You deserve better. So much better.”
Wraith slid a finger through the condensation gathering on the cup.
“My mother just told me that my father was a reaper. Like me. I wonder if that is why my gift as a reaper had never really been appreciated. I’d always assumed it was because the ability wasn’t the most useful during the war.
But maybe it was because my talents are a reminder of my father. ”
He swallowed. “I’ve always been curious about him, who he was and where he is now. I think I’d always hoped to meet him and get to know him. Perhaps find someone who actually wanted me in their family.” He blinked rapidly. “Now I discover he’s been dead for longer than I’ve been alive.”
“I’m so sorry, Wraith.”
Wraith gave him a tight smile.
Konrad took Wraith’s empty punch glass. He handed the cup and his own practically full one to a passing servant. Then Konrad turned to Wraith and took both his hands. Wraith lifted his dark gaze to Konrad’s. Konrad could see the shadows lurking in his eyes.
“I am sorry for everything you have been through,” Konrad said.
“I’m sorry you never had a family who loved or cared for you.
But my family are yours now. And when we return to Draconia, you will be treated properly, as you deserve.
By everyone. No one will disrespect you.
Nor insult you. Nor look down on you. Never again. I will protect you.”
He gripped Wraith’s hands tight, wanting Wraith to feel the strength of his words.
“Thank you. I—” Wraith took a deep breath. “No one has ever tried to protect me before.”
Konrad cupped his cheek. “Well, you have me now. And I will protect and look after you and ensure no harm comes to you. I promise.”
A hint of a smile played across Wraith’s full lips. Konrad gave in to temptation and kissed Wraith. It was a soft, chaste kiss. Wraith tasted like the fruity, sweet punch.
Konrad’s father would have said that such an emotional public display of affection was not the correct behaviour for a king of Draconia and his consort. But Konrad could not make himself care. He wanted Wraith to know he was cared for and that he was no longer alone.
Konrad placed his hands on Wraith’s shoulders. “We could leave now if you like.” They’d been here long enough. It would be fine to depart. Especially since so many had left the assembly already.
Wraith hesitated. “Do you think we could dance again? I’ve never danced much before. I had dance teachers back in Necros. But nobody ever really wanted to dance with me.”
“I would love to dance with you again.” Konrad wanted to undo every wrong Wraith had ever experienced.
He led Wraith out onto the dance floor. The musicians played a slower melody. Konrad and Wraith danced, and Wraith’s lithe body felt so good in his arms.
Konrad tucked a strand of hair behind Wraith’s ear.
“When we go to Draconia, there will be an official coronation and a parade for me as king. Afterwards, there will be a banquet and a ball. I look forward to dancing with you then, in front of everyone, proudly presenting you to my people as my consort.”
A hint of pink stained Wraith’s pale cheeks. “I look forward to that too.”
They danced, one song after the next. Honestly, Konrad had never cared for dancing. He’d had to learn, of course, but he’d never enjoyed it. It was simply an obligation. Until Wraith. So much of his life had been an obligation until Wraith.
Now Konrad wished he could just keep dancing and forget all about the treaty, the plotting, the deaths, and ruling the kingdom. He looked down at the necromancer in his arms. Konrad smiled.
Fuck. Am I really happy with a necromancer?
His own happiness had never been something he’d searched for in life. He’d wanted to be a good warrior, a good prince, and now he wanted to be a good king and ruler for Draconia. But finding happiness with his consort would be a wonderful bonus.
He’d never even had a serious relationship before.
When would he have had the time? Plus, he’d always known he’d have little-to-no say in who he married.
So he’d never searched for a partner. And he’d never even considered he might develop feelings for his spouse.
Mutual respect and a competent consort were all he’d hoped for.
Of course, then he’d been told he’d marry a necromancer for this treaty, and any hopes of an amicable relationship had been dashed.
There had not been many couples on the dance floor to start with, but one by one, they left. Wraith and Konrad were the last couple dancing.
Konrad clapped as the musicians finished the song. “We should probably stop.”
“I suppose you are right. After all, only the ghosts are dancing now.”
“Ghosts?” Konrad took Wraith’s arm and led him from the floor.
“Yes. There are a couple of ghosts dancing. They have been almost the whole night.”
“They must be enjoying themselves.” Konrad supposed they should return to their rooms and prepare for the day ahead. Very few individuals remained at the ball. But Konrad wasn’t quite ready to call it a night. They ascended the stairs to the upper floor.
Maybe they’d take a longer way back, because just walking with Wraith and being with him seemed like the perfect way to end the night before he had to return to his duties.
Konrad’s and Wraith’s guards followed them. They walked down a corridor, passing empty sitting rooms. Dirty crystal glasses, goblets, and teacups sat on tables.
“Konrad,” Wraith said. “I—ah—had a thought.”
“What thought?” And why did Wraith suddenly sound nervous.
“Well— Actually, can we go in here?” Wraith gestured to the room they were passing.
“Of course,” Konrad said.
They entered the room. Books lined the walls. A small lantern provided the only light in the room. There were a few chairs and settees.
Wraith dropped his arm and walked to the centre of the room. He wrung his hands.
“Wait here and do not let us be disturbed,” Konrad said to the guards. Then he closed the door. “Wraith, what’s wrong?” Was it something to do with his father or the necromancers? Did Wraith know something important? Something about the plotting?
Wraith bit his lower lip. “Nothing’s wrong. I just—” He reached into his robes and pulled out a small glass vial.
“What is it?”
Wraith hesitated. “It’s an aphrodisiac.”