Page 53 of Kingdom Of Veil And Vow

Muscles twitch in my legs and fingers, the urge to stop him nearly overpowering my instincts. It’s not that I particularly care if Jerrick gets hurt or dies—an extra spot in the Trusted for me to fill with a man of my own would be preferred. It’s that I know the king won’t stop until blood is shed, and while he might take his frustrations out on Jerrick’s metal-clad body, it won’t be enough to satisfy the bloodthirsty look in his eyes. He’ll turn his attention elsewhere, like toward two specific prisoners in the dungeon.

Jerrick’s body jerks forward as another hit comes, the king using the weapon more like a club than a blade of steel. With each swing, not only does the ringing in my ears intensify but the frown growing over Simon’s face does as well.

“The fucking prince has her,” King Dolian shouts between swings, metal-on-metal punctuating his words. “They infiltrated my kingdom and stole my bride, and they will fucking pay!” Jerrick holds himself as still as he can, enduring the king’s anger as each hit comes harsher than the one before. A sweat breaks out at King Dolian’s temples, but he doesn’t relent. Not until Jerrick finally stumbles forward, dropping to his hands and knees as his shoulders lift with heavy breaths.

“Sire, let us discuss this,” Simon tries again, stepping forward. King Dolian snaps his head in the advisor’s direction, spittle flying from his mouth with each full exhale, and the older man raises his hands in supplication, bowing his head. “Hope is not lost. We now know with certainty where the princess is—”

“And what of the act of war committed by the Mage Kingdom?” Returning his attention to Jerrick, he drives the heel of his pristine boot into the Trusted’s side, sending him sprawling onto the ground. He raises the sword overhead, and I suck in a sharp breath as it barrels down in a short arc, slamming over Jerrick’s chest. The force knocks the wind out of him, and he coughs and rolls to his side as King Dolian’s lips peel back from his teeth. “She thinks she can run from me? From her destiny? She is meant to be at my side!” He pounds his free hand against his chest. “She belongs to me!” His voice echoes, and I wonder just how much can be heard beyond the thick double doors.

Simon steps calmly towards the king, hands clasping behind his back. “We will get her back. I’m sure Imelda can be broken further—” King Dolian growls at the old woman’s name, but Simon continues. “And then there is the shifter…”

The rest of his words become drowned out by the reckless way my heart beats. Even with my anger towards our last interaction, a fate left in Simon’s hands is one that no one deserves. But his words seem to have spurred something within King Dolian, and without relinquishing the sword, he walks towards the exit.

“I’ve had enough talking. It’s time to send a message. One that Her Highness will not be able to ignore.”

Leaving Jerrick groaning on the floor, I quickly follow Simon and the king, brushing off the curious gazes of those we pass as panic throttles my heart. It amplifies as we continue towards the dungeon and turns my hands shaky when the king breezes past the first set of stationed guards and then the second, not slowing his furious pace as he descends the stairs loudly. I pass Simon to catch up to the king, earning a grumble from the advisor.

Prisoners begin to shout for mercy, not realizing who is in their midst until it’s too late. King Dolian doesn’t hesitate to jab the sword between the bars towards a man who clings to them with tight fingers. It pierces his flesh easily, and he doesn’t even realize what’s happened until his body is tugged forward when King Dolian yanks the blade back, blood spilling onto the dirt-covered floor. The prisoner’s hands lamely cover the seeping wound at his gut, but it’s fatal. I make it only another two steps before the man collapses.

A small part of me dares to hope that the quick murder might satiate the king. That it might force some sort of rational thinking into him, but I know better than to let hope of any kind fester within me. So I spend the seconds it takes him to march down the hall towards Immie and Siyala’s cells thinking of ways I might convince him to spare her. To give us more time. I pretend that the panic that stabs my gut at the thought of her being hurt is only due to the fact that I haven’t gotten the information I needed, and not because I can still feel the press of her body against mine.

I picture Rhea standing in front of the mage prince with those shadows crawling around her. If he possesses magic like that, what might hers be able to do? Or was that how her magic works too? Dark and ominous, something we can’t hope to defend against. The thoughts tumble through me, but they are quieted as the king begins to slow his steps, my eyes ensnared by the sword in his hand.

I’m spared a few moments of relief when the king stops in front of Immie’s cell, banging the sword against the bars. “Unlock it.”

Stepping before the bars, I reach back for the keys on my belt as Immie tries to wipe the sleep from her face. Movement draws my attention to the left, and a flash of moonlight hair makes me bristle. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay hidden and not provoke the king again. Forcing my gaze forward, I meet Immie’s eyes and nearly sag beneath the determination in her gaze. I want to warn her, but what good would that do? She can’t run, and I can’t help her, so that leaves us at an impasse that only one of us can survive. The lock clicks, and I tug the door open, grateful when Immie steps up so that I don’t have to grab her.

“It seems you have finally deigned to visit me, Your Majesty,” she says, sending King Dolian a withering look.

“Out,” he barks, forcing Simon and I to opposite sides so that Immie can exit her cell. She holds her head high as she limps out, as if she isn’t completely disheveled from spending close to a month in the dungeon. Looking down his nose at her, the king’s voice rumbles with his disdain. “Your usefulness to me has run its course,” he says, and Immie fucking smiles.

“Did being king finally give you everything you wanted?” she asks, hands bracing her hips. “Was it worth the cost of them? Of her?”

“Don’t dare speak of her, you servant scum.”

Immie chuckles again, though there is pain on her face. Not from something physical but a different wound—one that’s etched its way into her heart. “She was a servant too, if you recall. What do you think she would have to say about what you’ve done with your life? What you’re attempting to do with her own daughter?” This time, emotion betrays her, and tears track down her cheeks. “She would be disgusted by you.”

The king doesn’t move, an eerie stillness settling over him as he stares at her. “Xander.” My name shatters the fragile tension, and then I’m commanded to force her to her knees, to gather her hair in my hands much like I did with Alexi as I tug her head back until her gaze is forced up. Simon stalks behind the king, like he might make a suggestion to stop this, but he simply stands, lips pressed together in observation.

Sweat begins to gather at my palms, flashes of that night in the tower rattling my mind. The change in position means Immie and I face Siyala’s cell, and she growls at the scene before her, drawing the king’s attention.

“Your Majesty, are you sure her death is warranted?” I ask, forcing him to look at me. “How can we be sure that we’ve been told everything she knows?”

“I can assure you, My King, that I have extracted every bit of important knowledge from Imelda in our little sessions together,” Simon cuts in, his face twisted into a snarl.

Beneath my grasp on her, Immie begins to shake. Time seems to halt as I wrack my brain for anything else that I can offer in exchange for Immie’s life. But there’s nothing I can say. Nothing I can do.

King Dolian spins the sword in his hand before rolling his shoulders back. “If I want your opinion on anything, Xander, I will request it. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut and your attention on more important affairs. You, of all people, know what happens when I think your loyalty might lie elsewhere.”

I grind my molars to keep the emotion from my face. King Dolian smirks as if he can tell before his eyes drop to Immie, his arm drawing back in the same manner as it did right before he plunged it through Alexi’s chest.

“Wait! Wait!” Siyala screams, arms reaching between the bars as her fingers spread out wide. Eyes wide with terror, she swallows roughly, avoiding my gaze as she speaks directly to the king. “Spare her, and I will tell you about Rhea’s magic.”

Chapter Thirty-Three: Xander

No. No.

Tears well in her eyes as the king lowers his arm and turns to face Siyala fully. I loosen my grip on Immie’s hair, and she lets out a small sigh at the release of the strain on her neck. Face nearly pressed between the bars, Siyala stands tall beneath the king’s glare as she glances at the sword at his side.