“It’s not only that. They ravaged the capital—the resistance.” His face was solemn. “Damaged buildings and targeted attacks on guards. Several are dead.”
“How many?” I asked with a heavy weight on my chest.
“A dozen so far, but we have not done a complete roll call. It’s too early to know.”
I’d prepared to protect our coast from outside threats, but I’d never put a great deal of thought into the resistance. They were always a vague menace, people that crept in the shadows, but rarely struck so openly until recently. I had underestimated not only their size but their capabilities.
“Enact a curfew. Indefinitely. From sunset to sunrise, all shall remain in their homes.” I thrummed a finger on the hilt of my sword. “Perhaps an hour before the sun falls and an hour after it rises.”
“Sir, I don’t mean to speak out of turn.” Vexley paused. “But many of the fae work in darkness. Taverns, offloading ships, and other industries that profit only during the night. Punishing your entire people for the actions of one rogue group will not strengthen public opinion.”
I nodded and silently considered.
“Perhaps you would like to speak with your father before deciding?” Vexley asked. “I’ll remain here until I hear from you.”
“Yes. I’ll meet you in the royal common room,” I said over my shoulder as I hurried down the hall.
Tapestries danced against the wall as I briskly moved down the corridors. I didn’t want to speak with my father, but if I acted on my own, my actions might get back to him. Plus, I’d worked hard to gain the public’s favor, and I didn’t want to risk losing it.
I rounded the corner and stumbled backward, smacking into the thin woman. Elowen stood with a wry grin, not seeming to have stumbled even an inch. She was tougher than her small frame let on.
“Leaving my father’s?” I eyed her.
“Should you not be more worried with your own relationships, Prince?” The woman adjusted the sleeve of her shirt. “Or must you meddle in my business as well?”
I stepped forward and looked down. “Everything that happens in Rivale is my business.” My anger had risen to the top and was threatening to overflow.
She simply shrugged and lifted a brow. “How’s the bond? Can two hearts which once walked the same path survive the split in the road?”
Never would I understand why she couldn’t come out and say what she wanted to. I was sick of fucking riddles.
Sidestepping, she moved to my right and stepped forward, our shoulders parallel. “I told you to keep her close,” she whispered. “For if you are not near, there is nothing for the bond to grasp, my dear.”
I turned to watch her, but she was gone and lost among the shadows of the corridors. Distance had diminished the bond, and yet I had sent Audryn across the continent with a witch. Frustration rivaled my anger as I stomped toward my father’s room. It was late, and I’d probably need to wake him, but it would be necessary. And then I’d deal with the issue of the bond.
I reached for the knob but stopped short the moment I heard a woman’s voice.
“He means well,” Leanna said and sighed, “but things continue to fall apart. The resistance is getting closer to breaching the castle gates, guards have gone missing, and our name is being defiled across the capital—probably the entire land, really.”
My father grumbled.
“I want him to succeed, I do. I love my brother. I’m just not sure he’s ready for the responsibility of running a kingdom.” Her voice was sweet. “And with Audryn away,” she continued.
But a moment later I was opening the door to prevent her from spilling my secret. “Good evening.” I smiled and looked around the room.
Leanna sat in our mother’s chair, still in the gown she’d worn earlier. My father somehow looked exponentially worse than I’d last seen him. His cheeks were hollow, and his once-large presence had vanished. He was a feeble man waiting for the land to lead him to his death.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Leanna rose and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head. She batted her lashes at me as she crossed the room and then patted me on the shoulder. “Sorry about earlier, I was in a terrible mood because you left me in a room filled with wretched nobles.”
“You said it started at six,” I said.
“No, I confirmed with you that the gathering was to start at five. Maybe you had too much on your mind and misheard.” Her lips formed a pout, and she glanced in our father’s direction before returning her sights to me. “Had I not been wrangled into conversation, I would’ve come and gotten you myself.”
Had she said five, and I missed it? Or was she playing a game to undermine my rule?
“Apologies, Brother—you truly deserve so much. In the future, I will make sure you are well aware of every timeline.” She squeezed my shoulder and left the room, closing the door behind her.
I took up my seat, noticing the springs were poking through once more. The chair was cozier weeks before, and I hadn’t been to my father’s room enough to have worn the cushion down again.
