I can’t imagine what’s happeninginthe city. It’s a tight space for a conflict, right now filled with fae who just came out of bondage.
As I approach the gate and glimpse through the bars, I notice a multitude of fae there, eager to leave, some of them with colored skins and even horns.
No conflict—yet. All they want to do is leave.
A few of them in the front seem to be arguing with the guards, but other than that, it’s not as bad as I feared.
A sigh of relief escapes my lips, and yet it feels strange and lonely. I’m not sure what my companions were expecting and what they think of this. It’s odd not to have Azur beside me. Somehow, I still want to turn to him and make a comment, then hear his grumpy opinion. More than grumpy.
The reality is that the only person I thought was my friend hates me. He was my guardian just because he was forced to. A bitter taste comes to my mouth, and gets even bitterer as I realize that my current companions also hate me, just like my brother.
I shouldn’t care what a pompous knight and a idiotic human prince think, and yet my skin still prickles with discomfort. At least it’s a truthful discomfort, instead of a daft illusion.
And my goal here is to avoid a conflict, not to be the most likable fae in the Crystal Court—or anywhere.
The two turrets by the wall are more manned than usual, with archers at the ready, and I imagine that something similar is happening in the city.
A group of guards stands a few feet ahead of the gates, and I address their captain.
“I am Renel Goldenstar.” Using my stepfather’s last name always makes me cringe, even if I had no issue sitting on his throne. “Acting king of the Crystal Court. Open the gates.”
“Your Highness. Erm, Majesty.” The captain bows, followed by the guards beside him. “Apologies, but we’re not authorized to do that.”
“Not authorized by who? I’m your king, and this is an order.”
The captain bows again, his shoulders hunched. “We were warned an impostor could come.”
I’m assuming this is Zorwal’s doing—or the council’s.
“I’m Renel Goldenstar,” I say slowly, my words clearly enunciated. “Not an impostor.”
“I, I… I know. I mean, I don’t. I…” His bottom lip is quivering. “Orders, Your Highness.”
“Whose orders?” I keep my voice calm, as I don’t want to threaten anyone—yet. “Whose orders exceed mine?”
The captain looks at the ground. “Nobody’s. Except that if Your Highness is not Your Highness…”
He might be about to pee his pants—and yet he won’t open the gate. I glance at the guards flanking him. “What about you? Cowards as well? Do you know the penalty for disobeying your king?”
They remain silent, and I point at one of them. “You. Open the gate.”
“Apologies, Your Majesty. If we do that, they’ll escape.” He points at the lower fae.
“That’s not a problem. Let them go. It’s an order.” I’m using my best kingly voice, the one I had to deploy so many times in council meetings.
The guards look at each other, and the captain points at the archers up in the turrets. “They won’t let us.”
I huff but it sounds like a grunt, then walk past them and reach the gate.
“Where are you going?” that moronic captain dares to ask.
“That is none of your business.” I should leave it at that, but there’s a strange tension in the air, so I add, “I’m just looking.”
Ferer and Ziven are at my side, touching the thick metal bars closing in the fae in the Jewel City.
“I don’t understand,” the human prince whispers. “Didn’t you take your brother’s throne for power?”
I guess he’s implying I have none of it. Several murderous thoughts cross my head at once, and I think he notices my glare, as he hastily adds, “I was just confused.”
