Chapter 52
The minute during the transition between sleeping and being awake was one I’d always cherished. No matter how dire my situation was, while remaining in the gray zone, it was as if everything was possible.
On most of my days, though, the more the drowsiness subsided, the more the negative returned.
Not today. Regaining my consciousness went hand in hand with a deep contentment as memories of yesterday flooded back. A smile played on my lips as I realized I’d pulled Nayana into my embrace during the night, and she was molded against me with a peaceful expression on her face.
Not even my atrocious drapes could spoil this morning for me.
Was I tempted to wake her and convince her of a repeat?
Of course I was, but I could only imagine how sore she must be, and I wasn’t able to bear the thought of adding to her discomfort.
My poor female.
There were special bath salts I’d organized to ease potential irritations, and once I’d gotten up, I’d prepare her a bath. I’d take care of her every need. As I should.
Gods, Nayana had me bewitched. Most of these days, I didn’t recognize myself anymore.
Not that I minded. If someone had told me before that one day, a tiny human would blaze into my life like a thunderstorm and upend my very existence, I would have declared them stupid and probably separated their head from their neck for good measure.
With a pang of loss, I disentangled myself from Naya. She stirred and scrunched her nose. I stilled instantly, chastising my stupid self for not being cautious enough, but luckily, she just grumbled, turned around, and slept on.
Before I prowled to the washing room, I scanned her skin another time, ensuring I’d used the glamouring orb Ireas had recently recharged for me on all the colorful spots decorating her skin.
Leaving her behind was horrible; the fact that I was just one door separated from her didn’t matter.
After I’d added the salts to the tub and washed myself in the smaller basin, I sighed. As much as I desired to spend the whole day with Nayana, there was still too much for me to prepare until we’d abandon court later tonight.
Closing the buttons of the onyx silk tunic I’d thrown over the matching pants, I went through my internal list of what I still had to arrange, and when I was dressed, I returned to the sleeping chamber, placing today’s courtship present—a book about the true history of Ivreia—on the bedside table so Nayana would find the tome when she woke up.
So far, all my presents had been well received by her, which delighted me to no end.
The note I’d scribbled ordered her to stay inside my quarters no matter what, and I also informed her I was off to organize something of importance. She’d be pissed that I was intentionally vague, but there were things I’d never put down in writing.
As I left my suite, the worry that had nagged me for days continued to claw at my insides, and I hated the raging uncertainty, just like everything else connected to my grandfather.
Ever since the ball almost a week ago, Galrach had neither summoned nor contacted me in any way, shape, or form. Whether his silence was a tactic to unsettle me or if there was another sinister reason, I couldn’t tell.
But whatever caused the High King to keep me at a distance wouldn’t matter after today.
We would be gone, and he could fuck himself for all I cared. Even my ego wasn’t bruised at the prospect of sneaking out of the palace like a thief in the night.
Our plan for the immediate future wasn’t perfect. But Alaiann had proven to be the dead end the High Court had always been, and we would leave with little to no additional information about the danger the worlds were in. What a heap of wasted time.
So, the idea was to find places with weakened fabric between Ivreia and Galanta—how was still a mystery to me—but also to gather potential allies for the war against the High King, which would most definitely happen sooner rather than later.
Antas had convinced me to find support, no matter how much the concept elicited me to scoff. But he'd argued that since I was unable to attack Galrach directly, I should at least assemble as many followers behind me as I could. Well, if I were able to dispel their mistrust first.
I’d never cared much about being despised. Instead, I wielded my reputation as yet another weapon in my arsenal, but this attitude could bite us in the ass during the search for loyal allies.
Antas had just raised his eyebrow in discontent when I’d suggested securing their support with brute force, and the others had silently nodded. Still, their opinion wouldn’t keep me from trying it my way, if necessary.
As usual, my luck was shit.
As I was searching for the second-in-command stable master who owed me a large favor, one of the chamberlains I’d never bothered to learn the name of stopped me in my tracks.
“Your Royal Highness, His Royal Majesty demands your presence.”
“Noted. I’ll visit him in due time.”
“The High King insists on your immediate attendance.”
Fucking shit. Why did these things always happen to me?
Glowering at the lackey, I nodded curtly. “Where’s he?”
“His Royal Majesty will receive you in the Sun Room, Your Royal Highness.”
Of course. Where else?
Without confirmation or reaction, I left the lackey standing, or else I would have given in to the urge to deal with him in a very permanent way.
Naturally, Galrach had chosen the Sun Room for his little chat with me, a place so cleverly constructed and magically imbued, its architecture rendered dark Wielder like me powerless.
Little did he know.
Even after countless winters, he still believed that I was uncomfortable both in the light and in the absence of any shadow.
And while the brightness hurt my eyes, my grandfather wasn’t aware that my power wasn’t connected to the quantity of darkness around me.
This was a rare phenomenon, and since I’d never admitted owning this feat to anyone, I wasn’t informed if there were others not limited by their surroundings.
Magic had its own laws. To wield a decent amount, the power had to connect to its element nearby.
In a completely stale room, a wind Wielder would quickly burn out without a chance to use their talent.
In a desert, the water Wielder could only hope for his canteen not to be empty.
And the light Wielder was a sitting duck in complete natural darkness.
So yes, the Sun Room should have put me in great discomfort, almost like hematite, but it didn’t. I’d always been able to pull from the well of darkness inside of me, and I attributed this anomaly to the abundance of power I’d been born with through a stroke of luck.
And Galrach had no clue. Even in my most brainwashed times, I’d been hiding this particular secret, and today, I patted past me on the shoulder for a job well done.
Without knocking, I strutted into Galrach’s precious Sun Room, hands buried deep in my pockets, a bored expression on my face. This was an act, of course, but a vital one.
Keeping my wits together was of paramount importance. I had to control my temper and avoid any suspicion arising. If he meddled with our plans, we would have a disaster on our hands.
“Galrach. Why the urgency?” But politeness? No, that notion could go fuck itself.
“Scriosta. This conversation has been overdue for days, but I was too busy ruling this godsdamned world.”
“Then I don’t want to dissuade you from this oh-so-vital task.” Shrugging, I withdrew one hand from my pocket and inspected my fingernails as I pretended to be the bored heir he was acquainted with—and whom he not so secretly despised.
“Don’t you dare leave. You know damn well that I am angry with you.”
“Oh, are you? Why?”
His eyes narrowed to slits as fury blazed in their depths, but I didn’t react to his barely suppressed tantrum..
Turning my attention back to my nails, I remained right in the middle of the Sun Room, in the glistening light that entered the space through the floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding the entire place.
Even the roof had been constructed of glass.
The floor mixed pure white marble and lines of earth in a hypnotic pattern, and apart from a single chair, the whole area was bare of furniture.
Instead, plants were coiling around the borders of the different glass panels, and giant pots of greenery were scattered throughout the area.
And while the air carried fragrances of a meadow in spring and, of course, fucking jasmine, the absence of any shadow was unsettling, no matter that my magic wasn’t affected.
“Why? You have the audacity to ask why? What was that stunt at the ball? Threatening and attacking the High Court? Threatening me? Making a fool of our family when you announced your intention to court a lowly human? What have you been thinking?”
“Oh my, and here I assumed that you, of all people, would have no problem piercing through the pretense. But as you wish, I’ll humor you.
The human was in a constant state of panic after the amusing discussion I and you had.
She was slipping away into a condition where no amount of pressure could convince her to calm down.
So, the decision to play her powerful protector while I secure the power she brings was an easy one, but for her to truly believe me, I had to show her that I’m on her side.
That’s what I did, and the tactic worked like a charm.
Ever since, she’s as docile as they come.
” Concluding my story with a shrug, I faced my grandfather’s scrutiny.
This explanation hadn’t been my idea, but again, Antas’.
“Do you expect me to be daft enough to fall for such blatant lies?”
“Is it stupid to believe the truth? Regardless of what you conclude, I’m not in the habit of lying to you.” Lies.
“Open your tunic.”
“What?”
“You have heard me, so stop questioning my command. Now, Scriosta.”
“For what reason? Normally, there’s at least some sense to your orders.”
Keeping up my bored demeanor as Galrach clearly descended into madness became more burdensome by the second.
Or—
Fuck.
He suspected something.
No. Galrach fucking knew.
Fuck.
The dress he’d sent to Naya for the tea invitation. The low neckline—
Oh. Fuck.
Of course. He could see through Glamour. How could I have forgotten?
I was fucked. Now, everything was about damage control.
“For the last time, bare your chest, Scriosta, before I forget myself.”
On the outside, I was still the perfect picture of boredom as I made a spectacle of slowly unbuttoning the top button of my tunic while holding eye contact with the High King, but on the inside, my mind was reeling.
Naturally, Galrach lost his composure upon my newest provocation—after all, temper ran through our family like a red thread.
One second, he glared at me; the next, he pounced.
Like a rag doll, I flew through the Sun Room, impacted on the wall, and fought against retching as Galrach’s smelly exhale insulted my nostrils.
He was too near, pinning me against the hard surface, and my breath was shaky.
The impact had rattled me, even though I’d expected an attack and had allowed the assault to happen.
Galrach snarled at me, and his spittle soiled my cheek, burning like acid rain, but I showed him my teeth in return as a growl rumbled in my chest. A hot flash of pain speared into my brain at the hostile act. Fuck.
The High King appeared savage as he growled right back, keeping me trapped against a glass panel with one hand, ripping my tunic wide open with the other without further hesitation. Buttons flew everywhere and landed on the ground.
Fuck again—his eyes, which were glued to my skin, confirmed that he’d pierced my Glamour.
Gods, I was in so much deep shit.