Why would he show such vulnerability? Why would he think I care when he killed my best friend? Lila prepares another drink, humming. Surely this is an Illusion. This can’t be real.
“Speaking of Death…” Maxian finishes his drink and stands. In a moment, he transforms from that handsome stranger in a tavern to the towering figure of power and might. A cloud of black smoke explodes next to me, the plane stilling.
I dart over to Lila. “What can I help with?”
“Serve them while I grab the first course from the Mouth.”
“The Mouth?”
“The king’s private kitchens,” she says, and passes me a brown drink with an orange peel. It smells strongly of the liquor that’s stored in barrels in subterranean levels of the palace.
Maxian shakes hands with Hector Vandorne, the king’s advisor. The cloaked figure of the executioner stands off to the side, arms clasped behind his back. The king gives him a nod, and with another puff of smoke, the executioner is gone. Maxian and Hector exchange pleasantries as they settle into their seats. I bring the brown liquor over to Hector, who nods as I place the drink down. Wrapping thick fingers around the glass, he drains it instantly.
“Your Magnificence, I have some concerns,” he says, voice gruff.
The king gestures. “Please.”
“It’s regarding the coronation.”
I force my legs to move as the servants’ door opens. Lila carries a tray of greens topped with apples, crumbling cheese, pine nuts, and a dressing. The leaves look fresh, sweet. I keep my eyes on the dishes as I place a bowl before the king.
“Should we not speak in private, Your Magnificence?” the advisor is saying. “The gifted faerie…”
I pause, but the males do not look at me.
“She has taken the blood oath to Reign,” Maxian says.
“Of course, Your Magnificence. It’s just that, is she not still also sworn to Illusion? If asked a specific question, which oath would win out?”
The king scratches his chin. “Interesting. I suppose the oaths would yank her in opposite directions and eventually destroy the body to keep fealty to both Houses.”
My mouth dries. Hector grunts, picking up his fork. Shaking, I return to the side of the room where Lila waits.
“At the coronation, Dominik was out of control,” Hector says between bites.
“It was a disgrace and an embarrassment.”
The entire room shivers and several volumes of books plummet to the ground. A dark cloud appears and the executioner steps out of it. He opens his hands as a vase falls from a top shelf, catching it in his gloves.
“I felt a disturbance in the plane.”
“Everything’s okay, Executioner,” the king says, his eyes trained on his advisor across the table. “My temper. You may return to your post.”
The executioner floats the vase up to the shelf again on a shadow. Then he’s gone. Maxian lets out a breath, picking up his fork. The two men eat in silence for a moment. Finally, Hector speaks.
“I see your magic is still maturing.”
“It has shown no signs of slowing down,” the king mutters.
My pulse picks up. It took three decades for my magic to fully mature along with my body. Now that I am in my late two hundreds, my magic only grows in precision, not power. The king must be in his early to mid three hundreds, and his is still maturing?
“They named you the Mountain for a reason,” Hector adds. “The Mountain will keep Dominik in line.”
“I think we’ll switch to wine now, Lila.”
“Of course, Your Magnificence.” Lila turns to me, loweringher voice. “Are you okay to serve while I gather the main course?” I nod, and she slips out.
Reaching for the bottle of wine—a dry white from the southern city of Fraulus—I listen as the king speaks again.
