Page 161 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

The unease settled deep, coiling like a serpent beneath his skin.

Yet as the truth settled, Rain had to remind himself of the reality he so often tried to forget he was the prince of the Blue Kingdom. Raymon’s loyalty had never belonged to him alone. It belonged to the kingdom. To the crown. To the king.

Rain was merely the heir; a temporary extension of that loyalty, a placeholder until the day he ascended the throne. Until then, Raymon’s allegiance flowed upward, not sideways.

The realisation left a sour taste in his mouth.

A quiet, persistent unease coiled beneath his ribs.

“Yes,” Azrien said, smugness sliding back into his voice as he watched the turmoil flicker across Rain’s features. “He has proven to be a very loyal subject. Especially for a Red blood.”

Rain’s jaw tightened.

“Now,” Azrien continued, “tell me, boy; where is she? Ah, never mind. On second thought, I don’t need the details. When can you bring her to me?”

Rain huffed a laugh; sharp, disbelieving, edged with contempt.

The idea that he would simply hand Scarlet over…

It was laughable.

Delusional.

So far removed from reality that Rain almost pitied his father for thinking it.

“Obviously, I’m not going to hand her over to you,” Rain said, voice cool and cutting. “Or to anyone else. You’d know that about me if you spent a moment thinking about anyone other than yourself.”

Azrien’s face reddened, fury rising like a tide.

“Now, now,” Rain drawled, “calm down, Azrien, before you give yourself an aneurysm. I have a proposition for you; call it a peace offering.”

“Spit it out,” Azrien snapped through clenched teeth.

Rain examined his fingernails, deliberately taking his time, savouring the frustration radiating from his father.

“I will end the Red King for you,” Rain said at last. “Give you what you wanted all along. I have a vested interest in ensuring he gets the ending he deserves. You want him dead. I want him dead. It’s the best solution with fewer variables than your original plan.”

He folded his arms, shifting his weight onto one hip, posture relaxed but eyes sharp.

Azrien’s gaze narrowed, suspicion and calculation swirling behind his storm-blue irises.

“You would do that,” Azrien said slowly, “simply to protect the daughter of our enemy?”

His eyes raked Rain’s face, searching for cracks, for tells, for anything he could exploit.

“The fire princess must be quite the beauty,” he sneered. “To have you so willing to do such a thing. Do I need to remind you of your engagement? Taffy is very pleased with our arrangement. I will not allow you to embarrass us with anotherfailed engagement.”

Rain sighed, bored of this tired narrative.

“I need no reminder of my commitments,” he said. “I will do it because I will not tolerate power-hungry kings who abuse their children.”

He crouched down slowly, unhurriedly untying his boots. Water dripped from the laces as he slid them off with a casual kick. The gesture was deliberate, dismissive, defiant, a silent declaration that he was done entertaining his father’s theatrics.

Straightening, he continued:

“The state I found the princesses in was appalling. Absolutely disgusting. Locked away like caged animals. Drazier needs to pay for what he’s done. And unlike you, I don’t trust anyone else to get the job done. I won’t fail. And he won’t see me coming.”

Azrien’s lip curled.