Page 24 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

“Nothing, nothing.” A glint of delight shone through the king's eyes as he swatted his fingers through the air. “Calm down, boy. No need for your frazzled nerves to ruin a perfectly good meal.”

Gods, this man was insufferable.

Rain imagined flicking the knife like a dart straight into his father’s smug skull—but something cool touched his arm, pulling him back from the dark thoughts. Snow’s palm rested on his forearm as she smoothly interjected, aware of how easily their father provoked him. To everyone else, it would look like she was stabilising his powers. But Rain wasn’t struggling. Every bitter emotion was entirely his own.

“Father was explaining,” Snow said lightly, “that King Drazier is rumoured to be searching for an heir. He planned to host a masquerade ball at weeks end in Burgundy to begin the season.”

“And your little stunt made him so paranoid he cancelled the entire affair!” the King bellowed, slamming his palm against the table as he laughed. “Of course, he’ll adjust his plans. He still needs an heir. He’s probably trying to marry off those mysterious daughters of his to some unfortunate chump more powerful than him. Shouldn’t be hard, that smoke-puffing bastard has the strength of a damp matchstick. And those females are probably as ugly as toads. Why else hide them away from the public eye?”

He chuffed to himself as servers filed in, plating dishes with efficient precision. A male server poured wine into Rain’s glass; Rain murmured a quiet thanks before taking a long sip. Nervous energy skittered through the room—typical when mortals were in the presence of the King.

“As it stands, Rain,” his father continued, “they believe your little independent attack was a planned intrusion gone wrong. They think you were acting as our not-so-secret weapon to wipe out their lineage.I couldn’t be prouder. We’re showing them that my heir is someone to be feared. I’ve never been happier in my eighty-three years than I am to admit I was wrong about you.”

Rain shivered at that revelation. The King dug into his meal, scooping mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth, eyes locked on Rain with a twisted smirk. Pride radiated from him in thick, oily, suffocating tendrils, making Rain feel unclean.

“You will be every bit the ruthless leader you need to be,” the King added, dabbing his lips. Rain’s stomach lurched. It took everything he had to maintain a neutral expression and nod, refusing to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him rattled again. He mimicked his mother and sisters, focusing on his food or rather, pushing it around his plate. His appetite had vanished, but rearranging vegetables was a welcome distraction.

“So, tell us, son,” the King drawled. “What were you doing in Carminia? Not a single guard knew where you were. Why is that?”

Rain’s knife squeaked against the porcelain as irritation flared. He wasn’t about to reveal anything; not about Jay and certainly not about his frequent excursions into Carminia.

“I like to explore our beautiful city,” he replied, emphasising beautiful. “I must have ventured too far. I don’t know why the guards didn’t see me leave, perhaps they weren’t paying attention. Might be wise to station some at the border to prevent future confusion. I’d hate for our citizens to wander across unknowingly.”

He matched his father’s energy with ease. Manipulation wasn’t his gift, but sarcasm certainly was.

“You expect me to believe you simply wandered too far?”

“Yes. Why would I lie to you?” Rain challenged with a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips.

“You—with the ability to sense a shift in energy better than any empath in recorded history—got lost and carelessly stumbled into enemy territory?”

“You of all people know how little control I have over my powers. Stranger things have happened.”

“Indeed.” The King impatiently tapped a finger against his goblet, considering. “Fine. I will allow you to keep your secrets. For now. A courtesy extended only because you’ve finally proven strong enough to handle the consequences of your abilities. I must say, you seem to be managing this incident remarkably well. Not your usual behaviour––cowering in bed, afraid of your own shadow.”

His lip curled in distaste.

“I can only conclude your attack on the Red Kingdom was intentional. Fortunately for us, it served our interests far better than expected.”

At those words, Rain’s mother froze, her fork suspended mid-air, eyes locked on her son. Rain shifted his attention toward her aura, confused. Her pulse spiked. She was worried. Why? She had never shown concern for him before. She had always sat silent while her husband taunted him, enabling the King’s cruelty with her passivity.

“While I commend your actions,” the King continued, “you would do well to remember who the King of this realm is. You hold no authority. You are my weapon to wield. Hear me clearly, son of mine—there will be no more unauthorised incidents. No more careless wandering. Do you understand?”

Toxic energy rolled off him, thick and suffocating. Beneath the words lay the real threat. A threat of confinement and abuse, the same punishments he had always dangled over Rain’s head. Rain felt images of past incidences intrude on his mind, unbidden.

“Of course, Father,” Rain replied bitterly, lifting his chin in quiet defiance.

Snow stiffened beside him, her hand snapping to his arm again. She didn’t realise he wasn’t spiralling. For once, he saw everything with perfect clarity.

The voice from his vision tugged at him.

True king.

It echoed through him, validating every intrusive thought he’d ever had about ending his father’s reign. The voice had implied he was ready and for the first time, he believed it. He had always assumed he had centuries to prepare, that his father wouldn’t abdicate for any other reason than advanced age. He had planned to spend that time strengthening himself, becoming the leader his people deserved.

But now he understood he might not wish to wait that long.

He gently lifted Snow’s hand from his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze before placing it back on the table. Her fingers twitched, wanting to reach for him again, before curling into a fist.