Matthias checked his appearance in the round mirror above the fireplace mantle, brushing his dark brown hair with his fingers before opening the door. A scared-looking maid stood before him, trembling. “The king calls for you, Your Highness,” she squeaked.
What could his father possibly want with him now?
“I’ll be back soon,” he said to the wolf and left the room, closing the door softly. The girl scurried off, and Matthias followed in the same direction.
When he reached the throne room, he found it empty, even though it had been occupied mere moments ago. His father must have gone down to the dens—with his minions. He should have asked the maid where the king was before she hurried off.
There was no one else around, so Matthias closed his eyes and, with a blink, he was gone—reappearing in a dark corridor on the lower levels of the castle. Matthias opened the door that led outside and walked the short distance to the only other place the king usually spent most of his time.
Before stepping into the den, Matthias gathered his composure, mentally preparing himself. He found his father inside, where hundreds of Thorns, male and female, were making weapons. The stench in the air was foul and the heat from the forges almost unbearable. His father was seated upon a dais, looking down at his creations.
Matthias took a deep breath and approached him. “You summoned me?”
Distaste was one of many words to describe the way his father looked at him. There had been many times the king had made demands that Matthias simply refused. Like leading hauntings of Thorns into The Grey or making ridiculous speeches at public engagements. Refusing never came without consequence, however.
“Yes, I did,” the king replied.
“Well, I’m here. What do you want?”
Sounds of metal clanging sounded in the air and the expression on his father’s face didn’t change. The king was a professional at the steel gaze. “I want you to get information from the woman in the cell.”
“What woman?” Matthias asked.
The king shifted on his throne, a scowl written on his face as he stared at his son. A few seconds ticked by as the look turned from disgust to crazed. The king laughed out loud. It was a sound of pure evil, enough to chill one’s bones. “And I thought having a son wouldn’t cause automatic disappointment and yet here we are.” The king spread his arms out wide.
Matthias swallowed, choosing to bite his tongue.
His father rose and sauntered down the dais steps towards him. “You know perfectly well which woman I am talking about. The one from enemy soil, currently inside one of our prison cells?”
“Oh . . . that woman. And how am I meant to extract information from her?” Matthias folded his arms across his chest.
“I don’t care. By torture? By force? Threaten to cut her tongue out?” the king sneered.
Matthias made a show of pondering his father’s words. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
“I’m sorry?” his father growled.
“I said ‘no thanks’. If you want answers. Get them yourself.”
“What will it take for you to obey me, son? If you value your inheritance, you will do as I bid!” the king yelled.
Every fibre in Matthias’ body wanted to burst out laughing at the look on his father’s face, but he knew what kind of reaction that would entail. The king would never give him an inheritance, anyway. Besides . . . even if he did, Matthias didn’t want it.
“You can take my inheritance and give it to someone whoactually cares about it. . . maybe that thing over there. He seems desperate to take my place.” Matthias motioned to the figure who walked through the doors. Snake grinned from ear to ear, and Matthias wanted to wipe the smug look off the male’s face in the most painful way he could imagine.
“I will not play into your schemes. If you wish to strip me of my title or my inheritance . . . by all means—go ahead.”
Matthias waited, brows raised at his father, who stood speechless. He stole one more glance at Snake and then exited from the den before his father recovered and decided to use his body as a boxing bag. That may still come, but for now, the king remained on the spot.
“I’m done with him, Bones,” Matthias murmured as he stood by his bedroom window. The wolf whimpered and came to stand beside him. “For once, I want him to feel how he makes me feel, regardless of the consequences.”
Extract information from her . . . What did his father honestly expect him to do?
Shaking his head, Matthias paced his room.
He wouldn’t try to gather intel from her, no—but there was something else he could do.
Half of his mind screamed at him. This wasn’t part of his plan. Lie low, gather enough money with winnings from the fights, pack his things, and leave with Bones at his side.
