Page 1 of The Night Prince 2

Council

“Duel to the death? Spilling of guts? Blood geysering like a water feature?” Bloom Wintergreen asked Shonda Baston, rubbing her little fairy hands together in evident ecstasy at the subject of her words.

Shonda blinked and her own, much larger right hand lifted to the loop of material around her neck that held up the flowy turquoise dress she wore. “Ah… no, Bloom.”

“But what about the sweet lamentations of his family and friends as his corpse is laid out before us–”

“No,” Shonda repeated firmly.

“But he was insulting!” Bloom slammed one tiny fist into an equally tiny palm. Her iridescent wings fluttered wildly as she flew around Shonda. “He must pay!”

With his life evidently. Nothing less would do. According to the fairies anyways.

She always remembered what her husband, Michael, said about the fairies, “Cute as buttons if those buttons were red and set off nuclear missiles when pushed.”

“Vesslan is always… to the point,” Shonda said to Bloom politically.

The truth was that she wouldn’t have minded braining Vesslan when he’d swept out of the Council Room, summarily dismissing them, even though they were here to meet the king. But King Aquilan was not there. He was not coming. At least not that night. But did Emissary Vesslan offer them an explanation? No. After his daughter Lady Elasha Fairlynn had crept in, cheeks alternately flushing and paling, and had whispered something in her father’s ear, he had gone rigid. His lips had pressed together in a tight line. He’d glared at Elasha so darkly that she had cringed from him. Then he’d pounded his gavel once on the circular Council table.

“Go. The king will not be meeting with any of you this evening,” Vesslan had said and then, without answering any of their questions, he had left, slamming the door in his own daughter’s face. Elasha had to reopen it and creep after him.

“We are here to see the king!” Bloom growled as she whizzed ever faster around Shonda’s head. “And he locked us out of the Council Chamber!”

Vesslan had done that, too. For the moment, he had exited the room with his daughter frantically following after his tall, arrogant form, the Protectors had stepped up behind all of the Councilors’ chairs and politely requested that they vacate the Council Chambers. Now, the dozen Councilors were all milling about in the foyer, uncertain of what to do and all buzzing with the same indignation as Bloom. Though she doubted the others were calling for Vesslan’s head. Not in as strong language anyways.

Shonda’s eyes swept around the space. It was a grand foyer done up in the typical Aravae style with pure white stone columns, a delicate domed roof far above their heads and flowers spilling over the marble floors. Her fellow Councilors were mostly Aravae from the big Houses, but there was also a member from many of the races that made up the Empire.

Bloom represented the fairies, likely because she was the most bloodthirsty of her kind. Ornaren Deepbranch represented the dwarves. Her husband Michael said that Ornaren was just Helgrom Greatfall’s mouthpiece, because Helgrom was a Draesiwen with former deep ties to the Kindreth and Ornaren an Ironen who had eschewed the Under Dark for the most part. For this, Ornaren had to be Helgrom’s public face as none would tolerate a Draesiwen in noble Aravae company.

Norbert Littlefoot with his curly hair and broad smile represented the halflings. He always had a kind word and a nod. His chunky, homely form stood next to the goblin representative Zrudolk Hedeelx, who scowled every time he looked at her. According to Zrudolk, humans didn’t deserve a place on the Council. After all, there were many races who had been a part of the Empire for far longer and had no representation.

“The orcs should get a seat before the humans,” she’d overheard him sneer. “At least, they’re useful for crushing skulls. What are humans good for? Draining our coffers dry! That’s it!”

Besides his racism against humans, she knew that the goblins were touchy about the fact that it was just under King Aquilan that they’d gotten a representative themselves. To have humans given a place at the table of power so soon after had put their backs up. Zrudolk caught her eye and scowled as usual. And, as usual, she gave him the sweetest smile back. That always got him blinking and looking away quickly.

“We are King Aquilan’s Councilors! We should have his ear the moment he arrives! But no! Vesslan has kicked us out!” Bloom raged, fairy dust falling from her little feet onto Shonda’s bare shoulders.

She would have let the glittering stuff stay–for it was pretty–but if it absorbed into the skin some humans became like berserkers. So she quickly dusted it off with a tissue from her clutch purse.

“And we will see him, Bloom. Perhaps he has simply been delayed and they will reschedule the meeting for tomorrow?” she said, but made it sound more like a question than a statement.

But what could delay Aquilan from returning to the Eryas Palace? Had there been more trouble with the Leviathan? She could hardly believe that their threat was truly vanquished. Or was there some new threat that took his attention?

Or maybe he feels the same way we all do about Vesslan.

At that moment, she wished she still had her iPhone. The twenty-four hour cable news would have been breathlessly reporting every single movement of the Sun King if it had still existed. Not only that, she would also have had plenty of aides’ phone numbers to reach out to among Aquilan’s retinue to learn firsthand what was delaying his arrival at the Eryas Palace. Because, despite what Vesslan might think, she and the other Councilors were important people too. And Shonda had always found a way to make her presence known. The corridors of power had never welcomed her willingly. She’d had to bring her own chair to the tables of those who “mattered”. But she’d never let the macro and microaggressions deter her from her job and her job had never been more important than this: representing all of humanity.

But without that useful, addictive device that had practically been physically attached to her right hand in days before the Leviathan when she was a Washington D.C. lawyer and lobbyist, she was cut off from information that wasn’t spoken or written–in gold or silver ink no less!--on creamy, thick paper with magical wax seals that only allowed the true recipient to open them.

Shonda caught sight of Councilor Sorisana Adric, Head of House Adric, one of the largest and most powerful Aravae Houses speaking to someone through a ridwin, which was essentially a magical Facetime spell. Her handsome ebony face was illuminated with golds and blues as she spoke to the unseen person. Sorisana spoke in Katyr, but Shonda had been an eager student of her son Declan.

He had taught her the language and she was determined to master it. But it wouldn’t have mattered even if her understanding were as perfect as perfect could be. The ridwin made sure that no one could overhear Sorisana or even read her lips. But the Aravae Councilor’s expression could be read just as well and the puckered brow followed by the small smile and a disgusted shake of her head, causing her long braids to ripple over broad shoulders told Shonda enough. Sorisana had news.

“I’ll talk to you later, Bloom. Don’t start any wars without talking to me first!” Shonda called over her shoulder.

“He shall pay!” Bloom growled and whizzed up towards the ceiling.

Shonda strode over purposefully to Sorisana. The Aravae woman was millennia old and preferred directness to any kind of sophistry. The truth was that most people wouldn’t dare to come up to her as she was ancient and powerful, but Shonda did. Shonda had. That’s how their unlikely friendship had begun. After surveying the Councilors that first meeting after she’d been appointed by King Aquilan, Shonda had gone up to Sorisana first, extended a hand and smiled. Perhaps Sorisana had simply been surprised at her frontal assault, but she’d taken Shonda’s hand uncertainly and met her eyes.

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