Draven’s sandwich seems to contain spinach, a cheese too rich for me to name, some form of heavily seasoned poultry, a slathering of mayo, and something unfamiliar with a reddish-orange coloring. The bread is flaked with green seasoning, spongy and buttery beneath my fingers. I take a hesitant bite, afraid I’ll find something unsavory, like a human toe, but it’s … delicious? Within a few moments, I’m cramming the last bits of crust into my mouth, relishing every bit, staring into the fire with tired eyes.
“Did you enjoy that?”
I jump, turning to find Draven leaning against the sideboard, arms crossed with a dark warning in his gaze. I lick my fingers, not bothering to answer him. That was more comment than question and I don’t feel the Oath’s forceful need to comply. I’m growing increasingly certain I’d only have to if the king demanded an answer, but he’s just the prince. I didn’t realize he was back. The only sound I’ve heard is the wood popping in the fireplace. I stretch, scooping up my tarot deck, my toes wiggling on the coffee table. He stares at them, full mouth turning down as if I’ve disgusted him.
“You have any more of those sandwiches?” I ask.
“I don’t think I should share imported aioli with barbarians,” he says.
“Where’s it from?”
“Idyll.”
“Never heard of it.”
Draven sighs through his nose, eyes rolling.
“I’m not surprised, the Reapers keep you mortals in such ignorance. So many great libraries burned. It’s a miracle any of you can read. But for your limited information, it’s a kingdom across the great Emerald Sea.”
Something invisible brushes my feet, and I jerk them from the table. I fold my legs around me, glancing at his hand hovering over his deck, and wonder what ghostly magic he used to pull that trick. I think the Emperor is responsible for telekinesis. This is only the second time I’ve seen him today, and already he’s annoying me.
His eyes narrow. “You owe me for stealing my dinner.”
“Be grateful I didn’t steal anything of greater value,” I warn with a pointed grin. I’m still angry with him, and I want his spoiled ass to know it.
“What else should I expect from a Wraith?” He watches me with amusement as I look sharply at him. His smile only spreads at my wariness. “Maybe that’s what I should call you.Wraithfits you better thanRune. Yours is such an odd name for a human.”
“Well, your name sounds like your father fucked a bird, Princeling.” To my surprise, he scoffs out a laugh at that, and I wonder if no one has teased him about it before. “I thought what we were before didn’t matter?”
“Not in any way that would halt you from seizing your power.” His gaze devours me, too intense. Yet I can’t look away. “But if you think my guards wouldn’t have researched anyone sleeping under my roof? Well, I had your poster before you were asleep.”
“And how do you know when I fell asleep?” My gaze narrows.
“You snore like a bear.” The reply is so quick it leaves me blinking like an idiot. He glances at my cards on the couch. “Shouldn’t you be practicing?”
“Apparently, I can’t. Someone else handled a card of mine, and I need to let the energy reset.” I shrug a sore shoulder. Training with their tarot cards is the best chance I have of getting the kind of leverage only power can buy, to find out where my family is, and find a way to secure their releases. I don’t understand Sedah and all of its rules yet, but power is a universal language. I sigh. I’m so tired maybe it’s better I can’t try tonight.
“But you want to. So desperately.” His eyes narrow on my face.
I return the hardened stare, lifting my chin. So hecanread my thoughts.
Draven smirks as though he’s figured me out, not a complex puzzle, but one meant for a small child. “You resent your fatherfor being Selected. You think he could’ve avoided it, but his pride caught their attention. You loved your brother, but after his loss, your mother never saw you the way she saw him. And her? Part of you is relieved she’s not here so you aren’t burdened with saving her after how she treated you. Glad she’s left you free to claim the power you’ve always lacked—”
“Stop that!” I launch to my feet, all my insecurities unraveled and thrown back in my face. My eyes burn, my hands tremble. There’s no way he should know any of that. No way he could. He must be reading beyond my current thoughts to my entire catalog of memories, resentments, and pain as easily as a left-open diary. A window looking straight into my darkest shame.
His indigo eyes are like the bottomless ocean and his voice is soft as he says, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I would hate my family, too.”
“I don’t hate them. I’ve never hated them!” I shout at Draven’s arrogant face.You’re hiding an awful lot of ugliness behind all those refined features, Princeling.
He flinches, as if I spoke the words aloud. His fingers coax over his pack of cards, a golden glow lining them.
My eyes slit, and my fangs extend.Stop projecting your daddy issues onto me.I shout the thoughts as if flinging them across a canyon.
The golden light blinks to nothing at Draven’s hip, and his eyes burn crimson.
I glower right back, snarling, “I love my family. But apparently the only chance I have of seeing them is to play your little games.” He scoffs as I scoop up my cards. “Am I not your prisoner?”
“You have access to immortality and power beyond measure whilst those in your homeland starve and crawl over each otherlike rats for an ounce of the access you’ve attained in a night.” His head cocks to the side, jaw clenching shut. “Prisonerisn’t the word I’d use.”
