Page 81 of Of Realms and Chaos

I stood on the top stair of his dais, the king’s crown lazily tossed to the side of his teal throne. Trint had allowed his castle to retain its gray color, the blocks of stone not painted over to match the teal and black sigil that graced the wall behind him.

It was of a pair of black hands cupped together, a small teal book at the center. The book of gods, Henry had explained. This kingdom was believed to be blessed by the gods, and so they loved those gods above all else.

“How could I resist a fae, let alone a fae princess, that had so graciously disposed of an evil in my kingdom? I must admit that I was beginning to believe your kind to be myths, thinking perhaps the mortals trading supplies were prone to gossipping and lying. You do look eerily similar to us inferiors, after all.” That raspy and quick-moving accent made even his well-versed knowledge of the common tongue sound muffled, but still, I heard and understood his words.

I startled, stepping back and nearly losing my balance. Henry was there, catching my back with a firm hand. My mind was reeling at the casually given statement, too baffled to even thank Henry for his quick thinking or attempt to capitalize on our act of kindness.

“What do you mean? Betovere contacted you all two years ago to offer my hand in marriage in exchange for aid in the coming war.” If his words had left me confused, mine had left him completely bewildered. His large eyes fell slightly closed, squinting at me as if my face held answers to the questions he had not asked.

“Princess Asher, I apologize for my brashness, but I have never heard from any of your kind in the entirety of my life—nor had any of my recent ancestors. I believe if I were offered your hand I would remember, especially seeing as the stupidity it would have taken to say no would be forever branded into my brain.”

Farai stifled a laugh, but I could not think beyond my racing confusion. This was impossible. Mia and Xavier had contacted all but Behman, who had a queen with no sons. They told me so. Each but Maliha had said no, too terrified of the demons to take a stand.

But no. Of course that was not true. Because, while the mortals were fearful of the rumors they heard regarding the Demon Realm, they had not directly been affected by the demons. So why lie? Why not just admit they had only asked King Lawrence?

Then it hit me.

They wanted to remind me of the threat of the demons. They wanted me angry and vengeful—prepared to kill any that got in the way of doing what I thought was right. And I believed them.

“I must be confused, I apologize. Regardless, I am so happy to meet you, King Trint.”

He nodded, still looking at me with suspicious eyes. My magic begged to be set free—to decipher what was brewing in that mortal mind.

“Yes, we are eager to discuss something of great importance,” Henry added, flashing a smile as bright as his Sun magic before bowing low. Trint shifted on his throne, clearing his throat in the process. Nothing could hide the heat in his eyes, nor could I miss the way his hand moved to his lap.

Well, it seemed I had not needed to wear such scandalous clothing after all.

Farai and Wrath waited at the bottom of the dais, neither bowing nor speaking. I wanted to go to them, maintain a united front that proved us to be formidable rather than weak. Instead, I smiled openly at the king, waiting.

“Unless the thing of great importance is having both of you in my bed, then I fear I have no interest. But please, do stay for dessert.” With that, he stood, offering me his arm and leading me down the dais when I took it—his bare feet smacking against the stone floors.

Or maybe the clothing did have some use.

You could offer yourself as dessert.

Henry stumbled behind us, my words clearly taking him by surprise. He recovered quickly, the sound of him bouncing down the steps loud at our backs.

You know what, I will.

Before I had the chance to laugh or call his bluff, Henry was tugging my arm, pulling me out of King Trint’s grasp and weaving his own arm into the mortal’s. I shook my head, smiling over at Farai who watched on in astonishment with his mouth open and stare unblinking.

Wrath pranced over to me, proudly the size of a domesticated dog. We had agreed upon him coming, deciding that having an otherworldly creature with us would further cement our claims. Though Trint had looked at him with eyes far more wary than impressed when we first arrived.

Now, Trint’s eyes were bouncing between Henry, who chatted animatedly with him, and me. Farai placed his arm around my shoulders, Wrath sticking to my heels. We followed the pair ahead, surrounded on all sides by guards in black and teal uniforms—the thick fabric looking so comfortable that I found myself jealous as I shivered beneath my cloak.

Exiting the throne room, we walked down a long stone hall with doors regularly popping up on either side, not stopping until we reached a set of spiraling stairs. Fear of tripping came over me because was I really expected to scale slippery winding rock like this? Henry did not hesitate to keep pace with Trint, leaning in to whisper something in his ear that made the young king throw his head back in a laugh.

Stupid demon.

“Fair, I am going to need you to hold onto me. Tightly.”

Farai moved his arm from my shoulders to my waist, practically hauling me up the daunting steps. Wrath stayed behind us, likely prepared to catch me should I fall like an idiot.

Luck was on my side, though. We made it to the top of the stairs relatively quickly, my heeled shoes clicking on the landing as Farai released me. There was nothing that would be worth this annoyance and pain—nothing.

Two more hallways of stone decorated with teal and black later, and we stopped at a pair of double doors, the dark wood and brass knobs giving nothing away. The guard at the head of our party pushed the doors open, revealing an enormous set of chambers.

The king’s quarters no doubt.

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