Scanning the head table, I don’t see my father, nor any of my uncles. And I see only two of my brothers—both of whom have at least ten fewer years than I do.
Shaking my head, I realize I’ve forgotten these particular brothers’ names. My father took so many wives, and he sired so many sons that I stopped paying attention to the names of the brothers who arrived after I turned ten and five.
A herald appears. “All rise for the King of the Light.”
Unease rushes inside me. The title implies that my grandfather is now king of all Seven Kingdoms. I know Grandfather tried tostrike a deal with Rosomon’s kingdom, but has he struck deals withallof them?
My questions multiply, because it’s not my grandfather who takes the throne. It’s my father.
I blink, trying to hide my shock as he sits.
“Prince Tynan.” Father’s voice echoes through the sparsely appointed chamber, which used to contain so much finery. “We were pleased to hear that Othrix spared your life. You may approach and bend the knee before your King.”
Xendus and Surath follow behind me as I step forward and kneel upon a simple wooden platform clearly made for such things. As respectfully as I can, I bow my head, but every part of me feels stiff, bracing for something—almost as if I’m presenting myself to receive a beating. For so many years, that was the norm when I was called before Father.
I raise my head. “Father. Please accept my heartfelt condolences.”
“Condolences?” Confusion flashes on his face, but then he nods. “Ah, my last queen. Fret not. She was nothing. She failed to produce a son and will soon be replaced.”
I fight the urge to say more, but it’s clear he’s not planning to acknowledge my grandfather’s death—the only reason my father could be on the throne. Likely he doesn’t want to discuss this in front of the entire court and will save family discussions for when I see him in private. I certainly don’t mourn the cruel old man. Perhaps my father doesn’t either.
“We accept your condolences,” Father says. “Now rise, so that your travel companion might too bend the knee.” Father frowns. “His concubine must join the other wenches.”
Behind me, both Xendus and Surath audibly react to my father’s words, but I turn to shoot them a warning. While we travelled on foot from the valley, I told them how important it was that they obey the King’s commands—no matter how objectionable—but even I did not expect this.
I turn back toward my father. “This woman is his wife, not his concubine. Do ladies no longer dine at court?”
The Head Klerick pounds his fist on the table, and his plate and those to either side of him, clatter. “Blasphemy!”
I raise my hands, offering my surrender, and turn back toward Xendus and Surath. “Do as he asks,” I say as softly as I can. “Please.”
Xendus releases Surath’s hand, and two footmen lead her to the side of the room. It’s so dark around the room’s edges that, when we first entered, I didn’t notice all the women standing there. They’re all dressed in drab clothes, their heads bowed.
Females never held high standing in Khotor, but they were at least allowed to eat and to talk at court, and they were always dressed in ways that pleased the eye—my eye, in any case. These loose garments hide their shapes and cover them head to toe.
“Bend the knee!” one of the klericks barks, pointing at Xendus. “Bend the knee to the King of the Light or lose your head.”
Xendus shifts his large body down to kneel, and he bows his head, mimicking exactly what he saw me do.
When he fails to rise, I tap him on the shoulder to let him know that he can. I’m proud of Xendus and Surath. It must be exceedingly difficult for them to show deference to my father, not to mention the klericks.
Moments after Xendus stands, the Head Klerick rises from his chair.
“Before we feast, Prince Tynan, please tell us how you survived your time in the Darkness.” His eyes bore into me. “Did your fellow rider accompany you there?” He nods toward Xendus.
“Yes, he was there.” Although Xendus is no rider.
“Your baths did no good. You still both reek of Darkness.” The Klerick’s face distorts with disgust. “Tell me, what did you see there?”
My body tenses, but I hide my reaction. I spent many years hiding my feelings at this court and am well practiced at the sport.
“It was a huge void,” I tell the Klerick. “Very dark. Very grey. The only living creatures seemed barely alive. In fact, I first mistook them for rocks, until they began to moan and move sluggishly along the plains.”
The Klerick nods. “Did your dragons remain in flight? Did they protect you from these vile creatures of Darkness? Did they keep you from becoming infected?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Our dragons landed safely atop a plateau, where there were no such creatures. After the ordeal of crossing, we remained on the plateau for several days.”
“We were told you were gone many moon cycles.” He frowns at me.
