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I did the same to the last of his Kel Klyss still standing and fighting, disintegrating the rest of my father’s blood-bound and most faithful guard.
All that was left were the whimpering, crying courtiers, including the council members who held great power in their influence with our people.
I re-sheathed my long sword while my men surrounded me. I avoided even looking at the princess. Not yet.
Stepping over my father’s corpse, I bent and took hold of one of his horns and lifted his head in the air. One of the females in my father’s court fainted.
“I am Gollaya Verbane, son of Xakiel, rightful heir to the throne of Northgall,” I proclaimed in a clear voice. “Pledge fealty now and you will be spared.”
There was no hesitation, not even from the council members. Instantly, they fell to their knees. Dropping my father’s head to my side, I marveled at how light it was in my hand, as if the weight of the king’s head should be greater. It was rather enlightening to find that in death, he was of very little consequence.
“Open the door, Pullo,” I commanded.
He rushed for the door and knocked four times swiftly then twice more with drawn out pauses, letting Soryn know that we’d accomplished our task.
Soryn pushed the door open and marched inside with a dozen of my warriors, all of their blades smeared with blue blood. Like my own. Deep satisfaction burrowed deep. After all of these years, I’d done it.
Soryns’ gaze flicked to my father’s body on the floor behind me, then to my hand. His mouth quirked with the faintest ofsmiles, then savage determination hardened his expression once more.
“The gate is blocked and guarded. My king.”
I arched a brow at him. I wasn’t king yet.
“Keep the courtiers locked in here.”
“What about her?” He nodded to the princess behind me.
Finally, I looked at her. By the gods, she was radiant.A woman grown, Hava had said. That didn’t proclaim nearly enough about the light fae female standing tall and proud before me, surrounded by her enemies.
She pressed herself back against a column and watched me with surprising calm, her gaze glancing from my father’s headless corpse back to me. I stepped forward, unable to keep myself in place, lured by some deeper force. Her eyes widened, her focus dropped to my hand. I’d nearly forgotten.
Turning, I held out the head to Soryn. “Take care of this. I’ll handle the princess.”
He took the head by one of its horns.
“Then we sweep the dungeon,” I added. “Drakmir will guard the forest for any guards trying to escape that way.”
With a stiff nod, Soryn called into the corridor. A dozen more of my armed allies entered.
“Knock out Councilman Kellock,” I whispered to Soryn. “He’s a nekliam.”
I doubted he was stupid enough to stand up against me now that my father was dead and I was first in line to the throne, but I wouldn’t take any chances. A nekliam could reanimate any nearby corpses and command them to do his bidding, just as my father had. Seeing as there were quite a few on the floor of the throne room, it was best to knock him unconscious now to be safe.
With that, I dropped my sword and swiveled back toward the princess, watching with interest as her poise vanished when I stalked closer to her in three long strides.
Gods, I wasn’t prepared for how fucking beautiful she’d become. Her wide violet eyes searched mine, her throat working nervously as she swallowed. Before she could open her mouth and say a word, I bent, scooped her over my shoulder, and strode for the door.
She instantly started struggling, whimpering “no” as she clawed ineffectively at my black armor.
“Pullo! Tierzel!” I called. “With me.”
“Yes, Sire,” they bellowed in unison, their bootsteps echoing behind me.
“Put me down,” she cried, clawing uselessly at my armor.
Rather than head upstairs, I strode directly toward the door tucked inconspicuously below the staircase and opened it.
“Wait here,” I told Pullo and Tierzel at the door.
