Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
L ater that morning, Fallon sat at the solid wood desk in his office, tempering the growl at the back of his throat. Even Mauricio was trying not to growl. Halen had done as asked, donning his redcloak livery as he fetched this inferior Kallo elf, Talvi Marinossian.
“He came heavily armed, sire,” Halen informed him while their mysterious guest waited outside his office. The lycan presented Fallon with a silver tray holding a pocketwatch, a wallet, a crystix, a cell phone, a pair of brass knuckles, throwing stars, a straight razor, a black-handled knife, and a garrote.
Fallon could only stare incredulously at the pile of weapons.
“He brought all this ?” Mauricio asked.
“Yes.”
“Then he is either a fool, or he wants us to think he is a fool,” Fallon snarled under his breath. He hadn’t yet clamped eyes on this Estellian bastard, and he hated him already.
“He’s not alone.”
“Oh?” Fallon replied. Halen shook his head. “The idiot actually has friends?”
“No, sire. He brought his wife. The human who fucked his brother. Do you want me to have her wait outside with Renata?”
Fallon’s mouth pressed into a flat line. He glanced at his private secretary, then let out a restrained breath from the comfort of his chair.
“No. Bring them both in. We might be able to use Marinossian’s wife to our advantage. There’s probably a good reason why he’s still with her after everything she’s put him through. Surely I don’t have to explain to you what that might entail.”
Even behind his helmet, Halen’s grin shone through his wolfish eyes.
“She does look like a decent fuck, for a human.”
Fallon rolled his eyes.
“I meant that we could use her against him. I didn’t think that needed further explanation.”
“Sorry, sire. I know exactly how to manage that.”
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Fallon replied. “I have a stack of papers to get through that’s as tall as Mount Onas. Judging by the amount of weapons he’s brought with him, Marinossian is little more than a showman.”
With a nod to the footmen at the threshold, the golden doors to his office swung open and Renata entered the room. She was followed by a tall, slim, and toned Kallo elf who appeared to have more looks than brains. Behind him followed a small-framed human woman with hair colored in an unnatural shade of vibrant red. The elf strolled in with an unimpressed expression, acting as if he’d seen such finery all his life.
He hadn’t.
Meanwhile, his little human wife gawked at the ivy growing all along the white limestone walls, at the paintings of ships and horses, and finally, the portrait of a chimera mounted above Fallon’s desk.
The redhead’s dark blue eyes widened and her shiny pink lips parted as she took in the opulence of Fallon’s kingdom. His half-demon heart wanted to snap the neck of the Kallo elf in his presence, yet it was his wife who gave him pause.
There was something off about her.
Something unknown.
And the unknown was dangerous.
Marinossian was pretending to be a fool, what with that display of idiocy regarding the number of weapons he’d brought to the castle, but he was a sly wolf in bringing his wife with him. While her wonderstruck gaze was averted, Fallon stole a visual inventory of the charms she likely planned to use on him and his court.
She appeared to be human; a very slight one at that. If either of them threatened Fallon, he could break her in half over his knee. Instead of the long flowing fabrics or skirts or robes that most Sinaryan women wore, this creature had the audacity to dress in skin-tight trousers that moved and yielded to every feminine curve of her waist, her ass, and her short, petite legs. The only thing long and flowing about her was her hair.
It fell down to her narrow waist like spun copper lit up by red fire, catching on the blue velvet jacket covering her small shoulders. Jewels dripped down her blue coat as if she’d been walking in a snowfall of diamonds before appearing in Fallon’s presence. It was obvious why her husband brought her along…she was stunning. Absolutely captivating…although Fallon wasn’t fooled by beautiful creatures.
He knew a witch when he saw one.
Marinossian glanced down at her, then at Fallon. He didn’t bother to hide the pleasure he took in Fallon’s assessment of his wife. He was a proud creature. Proud of his trophy…his prize. Proud of letting Fallon see those legs that he no doubt spread apart and wrapped himself in night after night. Proud of the fact that Fallon might have an entire harem filled with concubines for his pleasure and amusement, yet none of them were half as bewitching as his wife.
“Good afternoon, Renata,” said Fallon.
“Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness,” she replied. “May I present Talvi Marinossian and his wife, Annika. Talvi and Annika, it is my honor to present His Royal Highness Crown Prince Fallon Blackwood, Sacred Son of Sinaryos.”
Talvi offered a graceful bow, although his wife’s attempt at a curtsey left much to be desired. She gave a little smile, which Fallon ignored.
“This is my personal secretary, Mauricio,” he said, nodding to his trusted confidant. He waited to sit down with them until his guards had strategically placed themselves between him and his guests. Then he offered them tea.
“Thank you, sire,” said Talvi.
“Thank you, sire,” said Renata.
“Nah, I’m good,” Annika said, turning her nose up in disgust. Her small body jerked as Talvi gave her a nudge. “I mean—thank you, sire—I mean, Your Highness —I mean, Your Royal Highness. This might sound weird, but has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like Prince Caspian?”
Biting back a suspicious growl, Fallon narrowed his eyes. How had this idiotic little witch made her way into his private office? What if she was another spy? They were getting better at getting close to him. His eyes began to burn in anger that he’d let someone so dangerous into his private office. This one was now mere feet away from him.
All he could do was play along with their charade until he got to the bottom of what they truly wanted from him.
“You are the first person to tell me I resemble this other prince,” Fallon replied in a neutral tone. He’d grown up knowing the name of every royal family in all of Sinaryos, but he’d never heard of this one.“You said his name was Caspian?”
“Yeah,” said Annika. “I mean, yes .”
Fallon glanced at Mauricio, silently telling him to write that name down and follow up on it.
“Your superb taste in clothing is not indicative of your upbringing,” Fallon observed as he studied the twinkling rhinestones of her midnight blue velvet coat. “Did one of my staff lend you that garment?”
“No, sir—I mean, sire . I got it at Nordstrom,” Annika explained as a footman offered her a cup of tea. “I normally wouldn’t spend so much on a coat. I only got it to wear on tour because I thought it would look awesome on stage.”
“You’re a touring stage performer?” Fallon’s eyes drifted down to her slender, tight, muscular legs. They certainly looked like they were accustomed to clinging onto a pole. He smiled to himself. That was probably the reason why her husband still kept her around. Especially after fucking his brother and dragging his name through the mud in every Estellian newspaper Mauricio could find.
“Ah, yes. You must be a dancer,” he observed, not bothering to hide the loathing in his voice. Annika became flustered, squirming uncomfortably beneath the weight of his demonborn gaze.
Good.
The last thing he wanted was for the little witch to make herself too comfortable.
“No, sire. I’m in a band. I play guitar.”
With his gaze still burning through her body, Fallon eyed her curiously. Aside from what lay between her legs, he wasn’t expecting her to have any other skills…unless she was indeed a witch. He decided to test his theory and see if it was true.
He narrowed his eyes, sending an invisible stream of heat into her body. Not enough to roast her organs…just enough to make her uncomfortable.
Enough to make her push back with magic of her own.
“Is that so? You’ll have to play one of your songs for me.”
The woman fussed with her hair, shoving it away from her flushed face. It was such a joy to watch her web of lies melt under his demonborn heat. It appeared she was too stupid to know where it was coming from.
“Yeah...about that...” Here came her excuse, her lie. Fallon waited patiently for it to be revealed. “I would, but I don’t have my guitar. It was...um, stolen on the way here.”
Fallon adopted an expression of feigned sympathy.
“Stolen? What a pity.”
“Surely there’s an adequate stringed instrument somewhere under this roof that she can play for us,” Mauricio suggested, and Fallon nodded in agreement. He turned to the footman standing in the background.
“Fetch her one, will you? I’d like to give the girl an opportunity to indulge me in a performance.”
Fallon glanced at Talvi, who still had a smug smile plastered on his face. But underneath it, Fallon could feel the faintest sense of fear, and the realization that this Kallo elf was keenly aware of just how precarious his fate was, now that he was in the chimera’s den.
If only the fool knew how easily Fallon could destroy them both.
With his icy gaze still pinned to Talvi’s, he took the garrote out of his pocket, ominously toying with the thin wire.
“My guards can’t decide if you’re one of the worst assassins they’ve ever come across, or one of the better ones, since you’ve made it this far. I hope you have a good explanation for why you came to my family’s home armed with all the tools of the trade. There’s no way in seven hells that you’re merely an officer of the Imperial Trade Commission.”
Talvi sat back in his chair as if he came here all the time. The cocky grin on his face hadn’t budged.
“Your Royal Highness, as impressive as it is to know you’ve done your research on me, that is indeed my profession. My wife and I are traveling on a personal holiday. We came here on our own free will, not as part of some clandestine plan. As her husband, I’m sworn to protect my wife by whatever means necessary. I certainly wasn’t expecting to be sitting here today. When your men arrived with the carriage, I knew straight away that my choice of weaponry would be an issue.”
“Because they’re the weapons of an assassin ,” Fallon replied, coiling the wire before handing it to Mauricio. “A garrote is not used for self-defense. And I am not a fool. If you’re here to kill me, I’m unimpressed.”
Talvi shot Fallon the most unapologetic smirk.
“If you were my mark, you’d already be dead.”
Fallon chuckled in amusement at the audacity of the Estellian idiot sitting on his sofa, drinking his tea.
Marinossian was such a fool, walking into the den of the Keeper of the Chimeras. He obviously had no idea of the size and strength of the fleet Fallon commanded, or of the beasts that prowled inside the Temple of the Chimera. The Sacred Son of Sinaryos almost felt sorry for the imbecile.
Almost .
Swiveling in his chair, he turned towards the portrait of the chimera hanging over his desk.
“You do realize that killing me would incite a war between our two empires...a war that you will not win. Not this time. You Estellians might have the numbers, but we Ellunians have the technological upper hand...and we would destroy you.” Fallon picked up his cup of tea as an afterthought, sitting back as he gave it a little stir. “Naturally we’d have to make an example of you before we went on to destroy your entire empire. But my guards wouldn’t kill you in return for killing me.”
Talvi raised a perplexed eyebrow.
“They wouldn’t?”
“No,” said Fallon while shaking his head. “They would drag you and your vapid little wife to the Temple of the Chimera and feed her to the beasts while you watch. Then you’ll enjoy the same fate while my kingdom watches. Have you ever seen a chimera devour a sacrifice before?”
Talvi shook his head.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure, considering that we don’t have chimeras back home.”
“That’s because you drove them away, just like you drove us away,” Fallon reminded him with a restrained growl. The primal need to protect his kingdom, his city, and his unborn child burned in him as bright as a fiery star. “I’ll tell you what you’ve been missing for the last millennia. The chimeras that live in the temples are pampered and well-fed. Because there’s no competition for food, they’ve learned to play with their offerings. It’s a game for them, you see, and they’ll go for quite some time before an offering dies. I think it’s because they enjoy the different sounds a voice can make when it’s in pain.”
Fallon paused to share a glance with Mauricio, who nodded his head.
“Quite so. They do become more animated the more their offerings cry out.”
“They’ll start by taking something small; a rib, or an eye, or a foot. The young ones have talons this long,” Fallon said, holding his thumb as far as he could from his forefinger so that Talvi could see. “There’s not very much to your tiny little wife. One swipe from a young chimera would be enough to disembowel her. A second one might cut her in half...all while you watch her scream in agony. ”
The more horrific detail Fallon went into about how the chimeras would tear Annika to shreds in front of her husband, the more Talvi’s smirk disappeared from his handsome face.
Good.
That was exactly the result Fallon wanted.
Now to kick him while he was down.
“Your wife is a lovely creature,” Fallon mused while taking a long, discerning look at Annika’s legs. “Not a very well-bred one, but I don’t suppose that’s the reason why you married her.” He looked over at Mauricio. “If this fool were to kill me, perhaps you’ll send her to one of the pleasure houses before feeding her to the chimeras? That way my guards could have a closer look at what he finds so captivating.”
“I’m certain they’d appreciate that, sire,” Mauricio agreed. Fallon nodded his head as if he were seriously considering it, and somewhere in his demonborn chest, a fire hummed in delight at the grim look in Talvi’s eyes.
“When the redcloaks are done with her, they’ll bring her to the Temple of the Chimera, where everyone else will be able to see what’s left. We always strip the traitors naked before presenting them to the chimeras. Do you know why?” Fallon raised an eyebrow.
Already knowing the answer, Renata studied the patterns on the rug beneath her feet. Mauricio’s face was sober.
The second Talvi shook his head, Fallon’s eyes lit up with cruel pleasure.
“We strip traitors naked because people tend to shit themselves when they see the beasts up close. There’s really no point in having them soil their clothes when they could be given to the poor instead.” Fallon set aside his teacup and sat back, resting his hands on the arms of his throne-like chair.
“So, Talvi Marinossian . . . if you’re here to kill me, just know that this will be your fate . . . and that of your wife . . . and your empire.”
The Kallo elf swallowed hard before casting a nervous glance at his wife, then the guards, before returning his gaze to the prince.
“Your Highness, I have no desire to see you dead. The last hundred years have been rather peaceful between our empires. I have no doubt that it’s because of your leadership.”
“Go on.”
“ But ...I did ask your men for fifteen bloody minutes so that I might leave my less appropriate belongings in our hotel room.”
Talvi motioned to the tray of weapons sitting on the desk, yet neither Fallon nor his guards turned to look at it. “They told me no. They said it would be an insult to the Crown, which is the exact opposite of my reason for traveling here. I was out shopping for a guitar with my wife when your men found us and brought us here.”
“Tell me, Halen, is Mr. Marinossian being honest with us? Did he ask you for some time to prepare for his visit?”
“He did ask for some time, sire. We told him that wasn’t possible.”
“Did he give either of you any trouble at any point?”
“No, sire. He was compliant,” Halen said begrudgingly. “The only thing he gave us was a bit of attitude.”
Fallon remained silent for a few moments before reclaiming his cup of tea.
“Well, if you didn’t come here to kill me, I’m very curious to hear what drove an Estellian to risk traveling all the way to Sinarya to deliver a message...and with a human wife that he’s sworn to protect, no less.” His eyes darted over to Annika for a brief moment before he faced Talvi again. “It’s a fine line between a bold move and a foolish one.”
“I thought Renata had already explained the reason, sire,” Talvi replied in a cautious tone as he eyed the two guards.
“Renata told Mauricio that you claimed to be imprisoned with my brother Dillon. She also mentioned that he used a particular name with you in Bleakmoor. That’s why I sent for you. I want to hear you say it to my face.”
Talvi looked at Renata, who nodded back in encouragement.
“Yes, sire. His prison name is RS00483, but he introduced himself to me as Nillin. As soon as I saw his photograph, I knew it was the same fellow.”
As much as Fallon had braced himself for this moment, he hadn’t been prepared for Talvi’s sincerity when sharing this information. The arrogance was gone, and something in the Kallo elf’s blue and green eyes told Fallon that he was telling the truth. He swallowed back a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. A reminiscent smile spread across his lips…the first smile he’d cracked since his guests had arrived.
“Dillon the Villain...otherwise known by my brother and I as Dillon Vanillin,” Fallon practically whispered. “Nillin for short. Courtiers and commoners alike would’ve been punished for speaking to him on such familiar terms.” Mauricio gave a stunned, barely perceptible nod of agreement. “However, our younger brother Tristan was incapable of calling him anything else.”
“Aww, did Prince Tristan have a speech impediment when he was little?” Annika asked. Renata gasped at her audacity to ruin such a tender, vulnerable moment, although Fallon was grateful for the jarring comment. The last thing he wanted was for his enemy to know how hard he’d been hit.
“No,” Fallon said with an amused grin. “These were not childhood names. The only speech impediment my brother suffers from is an excess of vulgarity.”
He tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair before turning to Talvi.
“Aside from those of us in this room, who else knows your story about being in prison with my brother?”
“Only my sister and her fiancé,” Talvi replied.
“That would be my trading partner, Konstantin,” Renata explained to the prince.
Fallon nodded his head.
“So nobody knows that you’re here in Sinarya, or anywhere in Sinaryos, save for your sister and a low-level smuggler?”
“I wouldn’t call him a low-level anything,” Talvi quipped. “He’s probably going to be emperor one day.”
Fallon cast him a curious look.
“The Estellian Empire hasn’t had an emperor in centuries.”
The arrogance that seemed to have no limit burst forth onto Talvi’s face, twisting it into a grin.
“I know. Which makes Konstantin’s ambition all the more admirable.”
“Does it?” Fallon asked. He leaned forward slightly and locked eyes with Talvi. “All I do is deal with ambitious people day in and day out, all day long. I’m surrounded by them. Everyone always wants something. Are you an ambitious fellow, Talvi Marinossian? You must be if you came such a terribly long way simply to share a message about my dead brother. What do you want? A protected shipping route? A place at court? Gold?”
“Gold works,” Talvi replied. Fallon scoffed.
“How much gold did you have in mind?”
“I suppose that depends on how badly you want Dillon to return, sire . You’re an intelligent man. I’m sure you’ll think of an appropriate reimbursement for my information.”
Fallon said nothing, although he was sorely tempted to put Talvi’s head on a spike, if only to permanently rid him of that perpetual smirk.
“I’ll remind you that I came here on my own free will,” Talvi continued. “The reason for my visit is simple: your brother Dillon asked me to tell your father that he’d like to come home.” Talvi gave a nonchalant shrug. “I thought it might be the sort of thing you’d like to know. I thought your family might appreciate having that peace of mind? But perhaps this is not happy news? Perhaps you’d prefer to keep Dillon out of the picture now that you’re the Crown Prince? It’s common knowledge that you’ve knocked up one of your concubines. It won’t be long before you secure the succession.”
Talvi folded his fingers together, pretending to look thoughtful.
“I can only imagine how... inconvenient it would be for you if your elder brother were to return after all this time and reclaim your throne now that you’ve gone to the trouble of breaking it in.”
Fallon narrowed his eyes at Talvi, and they began to simmer dark red.
“How dare you speak to His Royal Highness with such impertinence!” Mauricio hissed.
“Well I don’t know what Prince Fallon’s long-term career plans are,” Talvi answered with enough sarcasm to leave everyone in the room speechless. Even Annika had no stupid, insipid comments to add. “If Dillon returns, then technically, you’re no longer next in line to be king. Perhaps I’ve grossly miscalculated the point of coming here on your brother’s behalf.”
Fallon gave a hollow, contemptuous laugh.
“You’ve grossly miscalculated something , alright. Renata, would you please see yourself out?”
“Of course, Your Highness.” She shot to her feet and gave a curtsy, then walked backwards a few steps before rushing out of the room.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Talvi tutted, apparently pleased that he’d gotten under Fallon’s skin. “You don’t sound like someone who’s happy to hear his brother’s still alive.”
“I learned a long time ago not to fall for every story I’m told about this topic,” Fallon said, exercising great restraint.
“Well then, let me tell you another story about why Dillon ended up in Bleakmoor in the first place,” Talvi pressed on. “He told me that he only wanted to go to war to get out of marrying some bird he didn’t fancy. He said he was secretly in love with someone else, but that his family was against it. Dillon was so upset over the arranged marriage that he volunteered to lead the Battle for Veselle. He switched helms with a dead soldier and planned to wait it out until he could sneak back home, find the woman he was secretly in love with, and start a new life with her. Instead, he was taken as a prisoner of war and my government has never let him go. He’s been mining somnomium for the past ninety-six years under a false name.”
Fallon knew about his brother’s affair with Lady Jennae, but there was a reason Dillon was compared to boring, predictable vanilla. He was dutiful. Subservient to his father and the Royal Council. He always did as he was told. Dillon would never do something as outrageous as going to war, faking his death, and giving up the throne for a woman.
“I don’t know which idea is more absurd,” Fallon said. “The idea that your story is true, or the idea that you’re presenting yourself as an assassin with morals.”
“Oh, let’s not pretend you don’t do the same thing for the good of your kingdom,” Talvi said, waving a finger in mock reproach. Fallon found his audacity enraging, yet refreshing. “The only difference is that you have staff to carry out your orders. We’re not that different. Once upon a time, you were just like us. We were equals.”
“Yes,” Fallon said with a condescending grin. “And we evolved .”
Impressed by his retort, Talvi snickered to himself.
“Then you should have no qualms about rescuing your brother. I was in and out of Bleakmoor twice —I entered as a prisoner, and I left as a free citizen. I’ve seen it in broad daylight and felt it when the lights were out. I’ve reviewed their transport shipping schedules. I can tell you when food and supplies are delivered and how long the ships are docked. I can even tell you exactly which cell Dillon’s being held in.”
“ Can you?” Fallon asked with an air of amusement. “Can you really ? Shall I give you some paper and a pen so you can write it all down for us?” He shot Mauricio an incredulous look before staring down his nose at the Kallo elf sitting across from him. “Perhaps you can draw it up like a treasure map and mark Prince Dillon’s location with a big black ‘X’ to mark the spot?”
Talvi seemed to realize that he’d finally pushed too far. The demon fire rose up in Fallon, threatening to roll off his tongue as he opened his mouth to speak.
“You butchered my people and stole our only link to the human realm. We’ve kept to ourselves for the last ninety-seven years and you’ve been wise enough to do the same. You can’t possibly expect that I’ll send anyone into Estellian waters and launch an attack just because I heard a fanciful story from an assassin Kallo elf whose only ambition was his inexplicable need for justice.”
“But surely you must?—”
“ I am a Sacred Son of Sinaryos!” Fallon snarled. “The only thing I must do is protect my kingdom and serve in its best interests!”
Talvi grinned at the dark prince.
“You don’t want to admit it, but you know that I’m telling the truth. You probably know exactly who Dillon was in love with all those years ago. You’ve already asked yourself if he would’ve given up his throne for her, and because he’s your brother, you know that his answer was always yes.”
Fallon’s right hand formed into a fist as he stared at the horned, winged, terrifying chimera perched on the wall above him. King Balerin was cruel, vindictive, impulsive, and overbearing. The mysterious illness brought on by Dillon’s death was a blessing in disguise, because Fallon had a good idea of how he would’ve turned out if it hadn’t happened. Here he was now, just like his older brother, being led into an arranged marriage when he was in love with someone else. What more would it take for him to find an excuse to leave home, fake his death, and steal Novi away to live in exquisite anonymity? Not much.
Damn this Marinossian for cutting him so close to the bone. The fact that he was a complete stranger only made Fallon more furious. Just like a chimera, he wanted to peel this arrogant bastard’s flesh away in strips until his heart and soul were truly bared to him. Only then would he know for certain if he was being completely honest.
“Do not make me resort to methods of an untoward nature,” Fallon warned.
“No...go on and make him,” Halen taunted. A wolfish snarl played at his lips. “I like it when you let me run off-leash.”
Fallon was silent for a moment as he collected himself, then leaned forward in his chair. The demon blood in his veins wanted to destroy this man, but the elven blood they shared made him reconsider. He had all the responsibility of a king and none of the privileges of the title—but he did have his enemy at his mercy.
“I’m not here to play games with you, Talvi Marinossian. I don’t know you, I don’t trust you, and I have no reason to trust any of your kind. But you caught me on a good day.” He revealed a well-rehearsed smile, the same one he used for his mother and certain members of the Royal Council. “I’m willing to give you a chance to prove yourself. All you have to do is go fetch my brother.”
Talvi wasn’t amused by the prince’s proposal, and he made no effort to hide it. He tipped his head back and let out a sarcastic laugh.
“Oh, is that all? Unfortunately, that task is beyond my job description. I’m no sailor.”
Whatever patience and tolerance Fallon held for this arrogant bastard had been used up about ten seconds ago. Black flames swirled in his demonborn heart. No more mental games. It was time for action.
“Ahh,” said Fallon. “Perhaps you need the right incentive, hmm?” He gave a nod to Halen, who, in turn, nodded to the second guard.
Halen’s blade pressed against Talvi’s throat just as the second redcloak grabbed Annika by the neck and lifted her into the air. One move to rescue her would slice open his carotid artery…and he knew it. The blade pressed harder against Talvi’s neck while his wife was carried out of the room, yet he didn’t leap up to save her. The Estellian finally knew his place.
Fallon rose from his chair and returned to his desk, followed by Mauricio. He reached for a stack of papers and sat down, not bothering to look up at his prisoner. He was a busy man. He wasn’t interested in wasting his time trading insults with someone so inferior. That’s why Halen was there.
“I’m not one to be trifled with, Talvi Marinossian,” Fallon said as he opened the top folder on a stack of thirty. “I’m giving you a chance to prove yourself. And if you do not keep your word, I will keep your wife.”