Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
Exhaustion was a heavy blanket as the peachy light of early morning filtered into his room.
It’s too fucking early, he thought, groaning as he grabbed the pillow next to him.
The soft scent of lavender saturated his senses as he used it to block out the offending light.
Inhaling deeply, he let the familiarity and calm accompanying the scent wash over him.
He was just about to drift back to sleep when a startling realization had him shooting up in bed, his eyes scouring the room for the source and coming up empty.
Resolved to the fact that his sleep-idle mind was playing tricks on him, Daemon fell back against the pillows, his nose buried into the one that smelled of her.
Even through the sleep-induced fog of his mind, it didn’t make sense. There was no reason for his pillow to smell like Auraelia. She hadn’t been there in months, and even when she had, they’d spent their time in her chambers.
Pulling his face from the silk, Daemon sat up once more and took a more critical look around his room.
Everything was in its place—including the curtains that he’d evidently forgotten to draw the night before—and there was no sign of anything that would lead him to believe she was there.
And though—logically—that made sense, there was still a pang of hurt in his heart, of longing to be back where she was.
Daemon scrubbed a hand down his face before running his fingers through his hair, deciding to get up for the day instead of stealing a few more hours of sleep.
As he moved the sheets aside, a flash of cream and emerald green entered his peripheral before falling to the floor on the opposite side.
A singular chuckle escaped, and he shook his head. Of course.
Stretching across the bed, Daemon reached down to scoop up the parchment, his thumb skimming the new signet that had been pressed into the wax, subsequently knocking a few of the lavender buds to the floor.
It wasn’t long. It held no pertinent information. But the words enclosed in that letter meant more to him than anything else.
With a smile firmly in place, Daemon refolded the parchment and placed it in the drawer that held all their other letters.
He wanted to get back to Lyndaria by the end of the week, and he needed to set things into motion for that to happen.
With renewed determination, he pushed up from the bed and headed into his bathing chamber.
A soft snore greeted him as he stepped into his sitting room, Yvaine and Sariah still prone on his couch from where he’d left them the night prior.
With a shake of his head, Daemon crossed the space to his desk and set a summons to the kitchen, asking for breakfast and coffee for three to be brought to his suite.
Within minutes there was a knock at the door. Yvaine groaned and mumbled, “Go away,” as she attempted to rotate on the cushions but fell to the floor instead.
“Oh, good. You’re up,” Daemon said, not even attempting to hide the humor in his voice or his smile as he sipped casually from his mug.
“Why are you in my roo—This isn’t my room, is it?”
“Afraid not.”
With an aggravated puff of air, she blew away the hair that had fallen in her face, her eyes flicking to the cup in Daemon’s hand. “Coffee?”
“Always. There’s some for you, too, if you get up.”
Begrudgingly pushing up from the floor, Yvaine shuffled to the tray on Daemon’s desk. She sidled up next to him by the windows with a cup of coffee in one hand and berries in the other.
“I need you to leave for the islands today,” he said without turning in her direction.
“I thought as much.” She popped a red berry into her mouth, then took a sip of her coffee. “What are you going to do?”
“I think it’s time Father and I had a talk,” he answered through clenched teeth, his hand tightening around the bowl of his mug. The thought of having a conversation with the man who’d bargained him off to marry Davina made his stomach turn, but he wanted to…needed to understand why.
Yvaine blew out a breath through pursed lips, then raised her cup in salute. “May the Goddess be with him.”
Turning toward his sister, Daemon raised his brows in question. “With him?”
“Well, yeah. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of your anger.
You’re literally grinding your teeth right now at the thought of it; I can see the muscles in your jaw flexing.
” She blew out a sharp breath through her nose.
“Father’s not going to stand a chance.” She popped another berry into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“Just try and keep the shadows under control, okay? No repeats of the marketplace. I won’t be here to sing you back into your right mind. ”
Daemon chuckled. “I’ll do my best.” After a brief pause, he asked, “Are you going to bring her with you?”
“Who? Ri?” Yvaine’s shoulders drooped when he nodded, and she directed her attention back out the windows. The silence drug on as she took leisurely sips from her mug until finally, she said, “I don’t know. Things are…complicated right now. We’re together, but not together. If that makes sense.”
“It does,” he said, taking a swig from his mug.
He knew—better than he would have liked—how true that statement could be.
He and Auraelia had only just come out on the other side of that situation, and he hated that his sister was suffering from the same.
He only feared that Yvaine was holding back, and he didn’t know why. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really, no. At least, not right now. There’s too much going on to worry about my difficult love life.”
“On the contrary, now is the perfect time to focus on it. After all, who knows what tomorrow will bring?” Daemon quirked a brow and bumped his hip against Yvaine’s, bringing a small smile to her face.
“You’ve got it bad, little brother.”
“You have no idea. Did I tell you that Xander asked me what my intentions were?”
Yvaine’s laugh echoed through the room, and she turned to make sure it hadn’t woken Sariah, her gaze softening as it fell over the still-sleeping redhead on the couch.
Time stretched on, and they fell into easy conversation over coffee and breakfast pastries. Sariah joined them a while later, and once they were finished, Yvaine excused herself from the room to prepare for the journey ahead.
When Sariah placed her napkin on the table, a sure sign that she was also about to leave, Daemon said, “You know she loves you, don’t you?”
A sad smile tugged on the corners of her lips, her gaze falling to her lap before meeting his once more. “I do…but I’m not sure if she does.” Sariah let out a gentle laugh. “She reminds me of Auraelia, actually. Well…the little bit of her I know from you and Yvaine, anyway.”
Daemon smiled at the mention of his star. “Perhaps, in some ways, I can see it. But if that’s the case, then the only advice I can give you is to be patient. She’ll come around eventually.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
The sadness in her eyes was reminiscent of the pain he’d become familiar with over the last few months, and his heart ached for his friend. Reaching across the table, Daemon squeezed her hand. “She will. Fate tends to find a way to give us what we need when we least expect it.”
Daemon had hardly stepped foot out of his room when a guard bellowed down the hall, stating that he had something for him.
The man’s face was flush, sweat beading on his brow, as he handed Daemon the missive.
Opening it, he skimmed the contents before balling it into his fist and shadow-walking to the other side of the castle.
“Was a summons really necessary, Father?” he seethed, slamming the parchment down on the desk in front of his father.
“I didn’t think you’d come otherwise,” King Evander stated flatly, leaning back in his chair with his hand resting over his stomach.
“Well, I’m here now. What do you want?” He’d planned on seeing his father in his own time.
Had intended to calm his mind and form coherent thoughts to portray what he wanted to without completely losing his shit.
But getting a summons to see his own damn father had shredded that last bit of calm and obliterated all thoughts of possibly reconciling with the man who helped give him life.
“Have a seat, Son.”
“Son?” he scoffed. “A father wouldn’t sell his son to a vile witch in order to save his own skin. But you did. So no, Father, I’m not your son. I’m simply someone who shares your blood and will sit on the throne once the Goddesses claim your soul.”
“You want to play the victim? So be it. But I am still the King, so you will sit. Down.”
Daemon’s magic swirled around his hands, and he had to consciously pull them back as he begrudgingly sat in one of the deep leather chairs across from his father. “What do you want, Your Majesty?”
“It’s time you understood the workings of this court. If you want to sit on my throne, you will shut your mouth and listen.”
“The only thing I want to understand is why you did what you did. Other than that, you have nothing that I want or need.”
King Evander let out a patronizing laugh. “I did what I did to save our kingdom. If you can’t—”
“You did what you did to save your own ass. It had nothing to do with this kingdom.”
“I am this kingdom!” he yelled. “The Sapphire Isles would be nothing without me!”
Daemon sat silently as his father’s outburst sent him into a coughing fit. Watched as the man scrambled for a handkerchief and tried to hide the dots of crimson that shone like rubies against the crisp white linen.
“You’re still dying, aren’t you?” he asked, disbelief filling every word.
“I’m fine.”
“Last time I checked, coughing up blood wasn’t a good sign. How long has that been happening?”
King Evander wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair, his head falling against the back. “Since the ball.”
Daemon couldn’t have suppressed the laugh that tumbled out even if he had wanted to. “So, you’re telling me that even though you gave her everything she wanted, she still didn’t hold up her end?”
“Daemon—”
“No. Just be honest for one goddess damned second and tell me why.”
King Evander let out a heavy sigh and met Daemon’s gaze. “I wasn’t ready to die. I wasn’t ready to leave your mother. Or you, or your sister. It was the only way—”
“Bullshit. There’s always another way.”
“What would you have had me do, Son? Truthfully. How would the mighty Daemon Alexander, Crowned Prince of the Sapphire Isles, have handled this in the face of death?”
“Did you even try to find the person responsible after you found out? After you knew what she’d done to you?
Or did you just take it and hand over your son, your heir, your goddess damned kingdom to the woman who tried to kill you and, by the looks of it, is succeeding?
” The king’s silence was all the answer Daemon needed.
“You’re pathetic.” Daemon pushed up from his seat and walked toward the door, halting briefly to turn back toward the king.
“I used to want to be just like you. To rule with a steady hand, with a woman I loved and cherished by my side. But now?” He shook his head.
“Now, all I see is a sad man who put himself before his kingdom. Before his own flesh and blood. And I want nothing to do with that man. You’re unworthy of wearing that crown, and I am ashamed to call you my father. ”