“Hmph.” I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my attention to the small street we were heading down. I decided to change the subject. “I don’t hear any drums.”
Father shrugged one shoulder. “Mother’s never wrong. We shall keep walking until we hear the bloody noise.”
“We should have ridden our Fae-gifts,” I muttered. “We could be walking for hours.”
“Are you complaining?” Father side-eyed me, and his lips twitched ever so slightly. “You’ve never been outside the castle walls. I thought you would like to see your kingdom.”
I snapped my mouth shut and swiftly started examining the buildings that flanked us inside Gatlin Grove, the Elf Kingdom’s capital city—as if I’d never seen them before. “I suppose you’re right, though this is a very grotesque occasion to use as my first outing for sightseeing.”
Father’s red topknot tipped back as he allowed a resounding belly laugh to fill the quiet, night air. “Oh, Trixie, I’ve known you’ve been sneaking out of the gates since you were ten. You can cut the poorly executed charade.”
“You knew?” My jaw dropped open.
“Of course, I knew. In the beginning, I even followed you. And I must say, your skill at stealing sweets from local vendors became much smoother once you became a few years older.”
I closed my jaw with an audiblesnapof my teeth. “If I’d been given any coin growing up, I wouldn’t have had to steal from them. It was mortifying and frightening.”
“Or you could not have stolen at all…” Father winked.
“By all the Fae, just be quiet. We are supposed to be listening for drums if you have forgotten.”
The king smirked and flicked a finger to the right. “I have been. They’re in that direction.”
I sucked in a sharp breath and listened hard.
It was ever so quiet, but there.
Buh-bum. Buh-bum. Buh-bum.
My red brows furrowed low over my eyes. “That sounds like an olden war beat.”
“You are correct. That’s exactly what it is.” Father’s pace quickened, pulling ahead of me by two enormous strides. “Stay behind me until I have them all trapped.”
My right eye twitched, but… “All right.”
The closer the drums became, the more elves stared out their lit windows, silently watching our trek down the streets. Closer still, the residents stood outside their moss-covered apartment buildings, lining the road, listening to the war drums, and following our progress with their eyes. None tried to stop us, even though they knew their king well, all simply bowing to one knee and keeping their heads low to the ground in the wake of his focused scrutiny—but those eyes followed me curiously, a few elven stares widening with the realization I must be the reclusive heir. I did look like my father, after all, and this time, I was traipsing the city without a homemade disguise.
My frown didn’t disappear as my music lessons took root deep in my gut that was bursting with dread. Walking dutifully behind my king, I murmured, “Father, that is ‘Blood for Blood,’a shifter song.”
Father’s hunting posture didn’t alter. “I know.”
I closed my eyes in resignation, only to open them with resolute determination before whispering too quietly for any of our people to hear, “King Athon finally got his justice.”
King Traevon did stop in his tracks this time, turning his head slightly to peer over his shoulder at me. His voice was just as soft as mine had been. “What do you know of that?”
I lifted on my tiptoes, and hissed, “I know that you had the previous shifter king assassinated almost three hundred years ago to put his son on the throne. King Athon is patient to have waited this long for his father’s retribution. A parent for a parent. This is allyourfault.”
Father turned to face me and dipped to place his face directly in front of mine. “This hasnothingto do with his father’s death. He didn’t give a damn about that man. The king is a conniving prick and ruthless, but luckily for him, he’s a better ruler for his people than his deviant father was. This, my daughter, is how he conducts himself—without mercy. I voted against a certain trade embargo he sought two days ago, and he’s striking back the only way he can. A way that I can’t even speak on because it would reveal my guilt in his father’s death. This is a show of power and nothing else. This isbusinessfor him, heir to our people, so don’t ever forget that.”
My head jerked back in stunned revulsion. “You’re serious.”
“As serious as his people murdering my mother.” King Traevon stared hard, bringing his face even closer, our noses almost touching. “And we are going to dobusinessnow on our terms. It won’t be pretty or kind. It will be ugly and cruel. Are you positive you’re ready for this?”
“I am.” I swallowed hard.
My father’s gaze stayed locked on mine, and his voice softened even further, full of tolerance. “When we get there, if you change your mind, it will be all right. I will handle this.”
I didn’t get a chance to respond.
