It was true and Adalia couldn’t deny it any longer—he was who her heart beat for.
Chapter Twenty-One
The pest
The steady clunk of metal against metal rang through the den. The foul stench of body odour and liquid fire wafted through the air, making it feel like he was marinating in death itself. Thorns yelled from all areas of the room, demanding supplies or for a body to be removed because another worker had fainted from the heat.
Matthias lounged in a chair, overseeing the chaos. Since his return, he’d offered to be put in charge of productions. It was the last place he wanted to be, but keeping the lie alive was a priority at the moment. If his father actively saw him getting involved with the kingdom, he’d have the freedom to move about the castle and his cabin as he pleased.
He’d played the doting son for an entire month, masquerading as a prince of darkness interested in growing his father’s army. He hadn’t decided on his next move, but for now, it seemed his father believed Matthias had fallen in line.
As he flipped a dagger over and over, Matthias’ glanced at the clock on the far back wall, his time was up—soon a Thorn would come to replace him. Matthias casually stood and strode downthe dais, wings dragging across the ground, his posture tall and proud. He had to sell the story to everyone, not just his father. A guard passed him by and grunted in acknowledgement—Matthias nodded his head.
Dinner wasn’t far off. He had enough time to head to his room to freshen up. Any meal with his father was pure torture, but he couldn’t let them see that. A mask of enjoyment would be plastered on his face with every bite of food he took, every word he spoke, and every fake laugh that escaped his mouth.
Once he reached his room, he finally let the charade down. Here, he could be himself, even just for a breath of time. Bones was waiting patiently and greeted him with a bushy, wagging tail. Matthias ruffled his fur before heading to his bathroom.
The tub called, and he never said no to the tub.
Warmth seeped into his aching body and Matthias relaxed, sinking beneath the surface and staying there until his lungs screamed at him for air. This moment each day reminded him he was alive.
A warm, raw heart beat inside the chest of flesh and bones.
Matthias smiled as Adalia came to the front of his mind. It had been too long since he had seen her, but that steady beating inside his chest kept him going. He knew she would be concerned for his wellbeing and he’d purposely kept away. If his father caught the drift of any ill intentions, there was no knowing what he might do.
Her mossy, brown eyes gazed into his, and for a moment, he dreamt her into reality. There she was, sitting on the edge of the tub, her fingers grazing the surface of the water, creating ripples that gently bumped against his skin. She smiled at him and Matthias felt his body turn warm from her hungry observation. Shaking his head, he disappeared beneath the water again and when he emerged to take a breath; she was gone. Relief and disappointment washed over him as he exited the tub.
Hopefully soon he could go to her—once the lie was buried deep enough inside his father’s soulless body.
A gong rang through the hall outside of his room and Matthias realised he had spent more time in the tub than intended. Dressing for dinner, he told Bones to stay put, then left for the dining hall.
As he walked, he prepared the script in his mind, donning his character for the evening.
Hands in pockets, deep in thought. That’s what he always did. No one questioned that part of him.
An easy disguise.
A few high rollers were already sniffing around the room, seeing what they could devour that didn’t belong to them. They scattered when the dark prince entered the room. Matthias chuckled under his breath. He’d earned a lot more respect since he had become his father’s accomplice.
In the corner of the room, he spied Jes and Snake murmuring in low tones. What could they possibly be talking about?
Matthias seated himself at the long table, already laden with every food one could ever desire. Roasted meats, sauces, and breads. Silver trays of exotic fruits that were far too sweet for his liking. Food that was good to look at, but horrid to eat.
Moments later, his father sauntered into the room and sat at the head of the table. His cape was clasped with a golden buckle—triangle with a dagger through it. The king’s long brown hair had long lost its lustre and sat flat against his head. The crown upon it was no better, slightly crooked and dull looking. Matthias wondered if anyone ever took the time to polish it.
The king’s arrival began the evening’s festivities of wining and dining. Female thorns clad in barely there garments danced around the room, entertaining anyone who cared to look. Matthias felt sorry for them. As hard as they tried to please the king, he never seemed satisfied.
The scent of alcohol drifted through the air and people were already falling over themselves. Laughter flowed from their mouths, but all Matthias heard were silent cries for help. He sipped his red wine slowly and surveyed the room, keeping watch and taking mental notes.
“How are the weapon productions down in the den this afternoon, boy?” the king asked as he stuffed a roasted duck leg into his mouth.
“Just fine. Metal went in and weapons came out. Plenty to go around for your army, Father.” Matthias replied calmly, without looking up from his plate of food.
The king grunted in reply.
“What do you plan on doing with all the weapons you are creating? There aren’t enough soldiers to give them too,” Matthias asked casually.
His father licked his greasy fingers clean before replying. “That’s why more Shadowkin need recruiting from The Grey and more of the subjects need to know how dire this situation is. We need more to join us.”
