Lovely.
I dipped my chin in acknowledgment. “Well, Maulix, don’t you think it’s rather pointless scouring the lands you feel are poisoned by scum such as myself? With a royal wedding underway, and your intrigue lying with it, why bother strolling the palace grounds?”
“I think you and I both know the answer to your query.”
“Maybe, but perhaps I wish to be entertained.”
Their singular dark brow rose. “Entertained by the nuances of ranking? I suppose you wouldn’t understand such a concept, considering you’re roaming the continent as if it is worth the exploration.”
“Interesting,” I crooned, trailing my fingers up and down the hilt of my blade. “You speak so poorly of Wraelira, yet your presence indicates your desire to rule it. It's counterproductive, really, to be so hate-filled of the lands you wish to inhabit.”
Shadows curled around his feet, his weapon manifesting alongside their presence. His seared hand clamped down on the center of the dark, metaphysical stone that stretched to match his height, peaking at an easy six feet. At its cap, a jagged, curved blade arched over his head, its length easily half that of the growing snath.
A groan of annoyance slipped from me. “Of course you’d have a fucking scythe.”
“I wouldhateto make this too easy a fight, Captain.” Maulix spun the weapon with ease, the setting sun glinting off its tip. “Besides, the night is young, and I rather prefer the sound of my victims’ pleas.”
Freeing both swords from their scabbards, I matched his demeanor. “By all means, we can test your luck, just know the god himself is rather fond of me.”
CHAPTER 49
True Name
KAEL
Goldadorned the entire ballroom. From the archways to the chandeliers, my father ensured the respective royal hue would be easy to spot as the people of Serevalen flocked into the palace. Laughter quickly intermingled with the ongoing music, fusing to form a liveliness the king would never care for.
If it were up to him, they’d all be slaughtered, and he’d rule barren lands. But this joining, this…wedding,was supposedly our link to the continent beyond. One we’d never heard of, but the Others had assured my father about, and one that lacked any solidifying proof of its existence—Narvendor.
None of it made sense, but even as my logic screamed to look into the facts, there wasn’t a single portion of me left that truly gave a shit.
He’d executed Percy, and I hadnothingleft under his ruling. I only hoped whoever or whatever it was that ended my lineage wouldn’t hesitate when it came to eradicating me alongside the king.
Caspian cleared his throat beside me, arms tucked behind his back as he dipped his chin in the direction of the arriving guests. “You could at least smile.”
“And you could very well shut the fuck up,” I retorted, the wordscoming out far harsher than I intended. For where the pirate was convinced I harbored unrelenting hatred for him, my loathing extended only to myself and my father.
While Caspian had been the one to drive the esteemed blade through Percival’s stomach, the king had commanded it, and Caspian was bound to follow his expectation.
If war were on the horizon, there was only one side I would stand with.
It was the one furthest from my piece of shit fucking father.
It was the one that allotted me the ability to carve the king’s heart from his corruption-filled chest.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Caspian stated, keeping his attention fixated ahead. “Where you stare into oblivion and start to look like you’re considering detonating the palace regardless of its occupancy.”
“Maybe I am.” Running a hand down the front of my cream vest, I flicked my tongue against my canine. “I’m a man molded by a thief of a father and fueled by the desire for retaliation for everything he’stakenfrom me. Ultimately, I have nothing else to lose, and existing alongside Elaros sounds far more heavenly than living another second in this damned existence.”
“But you won’t.”
My jaw feathered before I allowed the sigh to fall. “But I won’t. Fuck you, by the way.”
He chuckled. “That’s the thirty-seventh time you’ve said that today. I’m beginning to wonder if you’re capable of any other fruitful retort.”
This is the man Alastair hates? The one responsible for carving the scar into his side and leaving him to bleed out on Ellira’s frigid waters?
The ghost of a smile tugged on the corners of my mouth, but I repressed it before it had the chance to surface. “How fucking long do we have to stand here?”
