His stepmother, Queen Consort Adelina, stood in the large sitting room. At the sight of him, she ran forward.
“Gerard! I’m so glad you are here! Quick! Come this way. The king has been attacked! He fought them off, but he is wounded. You must come quickly!” Without giving him time to respond or process her words, she ran.
“What? Is he okay? Whoattacked him?” He fired his questions as he ran after her slender form. He glanced in the direction of his own room, where he’d last seen Elias. But his stepmother led him in a different direction, towards the king’s bedroom.
“I couldn’t tell who they were. But it was frightful!” Adelina held up her skirts as she ran.
“And Elias? Where is he?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him.”
Gerard let out a breath. He should not feel relief. His father had been attacked and wounded. But at least it did not seem that Elias had been a part of it.
“Where are all the guards?” There should be guards everywhere.
“They are with the king in his bedroom,” she said.
“What? All of them?”
Without answering, she flung open the door to the king’s private sitting room.
It was empty. And silent. She strode towards the doors leading to the king’s bedroom.
Brows furrowed, he followed her. Something wasn’t right. “Adelina, is my father okay?”
Before the words had finished leaving his lips, he spotted movement in the corner of his left eye. He turned. Hands grabbed his arms and legs.
He struggled. He kicked. He yelled and shouted, hoping his siblings or father were near enough to hear him. His attackers wrestled him onto the carpet. Still, he kept fighting. He considered shifting. But the room was far too small.
Hands shoved his face to the ground. Someone yanked his arms behind his back. Shackles clamped around his wrists.
A chill ran down his spine. Shackles. He could not see them. But he knew he’d seen the type before. They were thekind used to cut someone from their magic, including one’s ability to shift. It seemed he’d be unable to turn into a dragon anytime soon.
He lifted his head from the carpet. The queen consort stood directly in front of him. She stared down at him, eyes wide, hand over her mouth.
Two sets of hands gripped him and yanked him to his feet. Gerard grunted.
“Don’t hurt him! Not any more than you have to!” the queen consort begged. “Please.”
Gerard gaped at her. “You betrayed us.”
She looked away, cheeks flushing.
“Why?” Gerard asked.
She did not meet his gaze.
Then a tall, lanky man stepped forward and shoved a gag in his mouth. He wrapped a cloth around Gerard’s head and mouth to secure the gag in place. Two individuals stood behind Gerard, holding him firmly. Two more stood slightly back, ready to move in if needed. Five enemies in total.
Six if he included his stepmother.
Those working with his stepmother didn’t wear any identifying uniforms. In fact, their clothes appeared rather … slovenly. Ragged even. They dressed like common thugs or bandits.
An individual standing by the wall took a step forward. They’d been so still and silent that Gerard had not noticed them at all. The individual wore long grey robes with the hood pulled up. Grey gloves hid their hands. A black mask covered their face. They watched Gerard. Gerard had never seen a get-up like this before.
So that makes seven enemies in total.
Footsteps approached from behind. Gerard began toturn his head. But one of those holding him grabbed him by the neck and forced him to keep looking ahead.
