“And my part in this is?” I questioned, still unsure of why he would need a human, if all he needed to do was form an alliance between the other kingdoms. Surely there were easier ways.
Alasgad was fractured into six kingdoms.
Vaetharyn at its heart, the land of the fae, thick with magic and growth. Pyrhador in the mountains, where the dragons slumbered. Lyncanthyr’s endless forests were ruled by the wolves. Noctharis to the east, barren and blood starved. The island of Dobhar, where sirens were said to sing ships to ruin.
Then there was where I had been born… The slums.
Humans had no kingdom worth naming–not really–only overcrowded alleyways and crumbling walls, abandoned by those who deemed us unworthy of saving.
“You are overlooked. Creatures rarely guard their tongues around humans. They do not imagine you could be listening. They certainly do not believe you are capable of understanding,” Rhael said, drawing my attention back from memory.
“So, I gather secrets and report them back to you,” it was a statement not a question. There was no need, not when he had been so clear.
“Yes, and because I am fair, there will be a reward,” he leaned back, watching me as though I were already caught in his snare.
“What reward?” I asked. The question slipped out too quickly. Much more eager than I would have liked. My interest overrode my indifference.
“When my kingdom is secure, your debt will be cleared and you will be free,” he said, idly rolling an invisible piece of lint between his fingers.
“Free? Completely?” My composure fractured despite myself.
Hope flared inside my chest. Years ago, I had resigned myself to being a slave until death. Freedom had never been an option, not truly. Yet the Fae King offered it as if it meant nothing to him.
“Yes,” he said, his eyes turning from the invisible lint back to my face. Watching, observing.
“But war could last decades,” I murmured as reality set in like an unwelcome frost. The fire of hope doused by ice cold water.
“I am aware.” Rhael smirked. The curve of his lips telling me he had already calculated this reaction.
“So, I could serve you faithfully and still die a slave?” I sighed watching him as my hope turned to anger at such a wicked and cruel game.
“If you perform well, war may be avoided. Five years. Perhaps less,” he mused, tilting his head to the side.
Perhaps.
The word clung to the air like a sour smell. He enjoyed this, Rhael enjoyed watching the decision coil inside me. I was sure he would find great pleasure in the conflict that now bloomed within me.
“That is if I do not die first,” I muttered coldly, looking away from him. No longer interested in his game.
“Exactly,” he rose slightly before waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. Taking my disinterest as a reason to end the conversation. “Now leave me, I have other matters to consider.”
Dismissed. As though I were nothing more than an instinct that briefly held his attention.
“Yes, Master,” I sneered. That word formed like poison in my throat.
I dipped once more into an exaggerated curtsey. Making sure my eyes met his as I stepped backwards. Choosing to leave the room facing him.
I would not turn my back on Rhael. Not in his own throne room.
Only when the doors closed behind me did the realisation settle into my chest. I had never agreed. Not aloud. Though, I suspected, in this court silence would be taken for consent all the same.
Chapter Five
Rhael
G
Elara’s footsteps rang along the corridor long after she had vanished from sight, the echo threading through the stone like a lingering spell. The sound should have brought relief, instead it hollowed out the space that the insignificant human left behind.
