Page 46 of The Night Prince 2

When he knows who you really are, yes, he will want to kill you, the voice said.

Cold washed over Declan. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see the perspiration on his glass turn to ice. Who am I?

Ah, the tour is starting! Focus! Focus!

You must answer me! I need to know!

But the voice refused to answer and Vesslan was speaking.

“Shall we begin in the throne room, brother?” Vesslan asked Aquilan unctuously.

“Must we?” Aquilan asked faintly, but then seeing Vesslan’s fallen expression amended with, “Of course! I wish to see the throne room. I’m sure you’ve made it quite… impressive.”

“As it should be.” Vesslan started walking ahead of them briskly, saying over his shoulder, “The Empire is growing ever bigger, brother! The throne room must be the heart of it!”

Aquilan met Declan’s eyes at that moment and there was a sort of despair in them. Declan often feared the words that came out of his mouth. They were uncertain at best or misconstrued at worst. They were not his friends. But he found himself compelled to speak again as he seemingly often did with Aquilan. For good or ill.

He stepped to the Sun King’s side and whispered fiercely, “Remember that this is your palace and your Empire. The heart of it is whatever you want it to be.”

Truer words were never spoken, the voice agreed.

Those clear as glass blue eyes studied his face for long moments. But then, Aquilan nodded and that tensity drained out of him. His steps seemed lighter and his shoulders were thrown back as if he were welcoming whatever would come.

And he agrees with you! Most excellent. A step in the right direction, the voice said.

Aquilan doesn’t need my help. I just… Declan broke off. For all the Sun King, undoubtedly, had friends and advisors–not to mention plenty of family–Declan sensed that Aquilan was in some very profound way alone.

The two of them walked after Vesslan while the servant with the pitcher followed closely behind, ready to fill their glasses at a moment’s notice. Vesslan was monologuing about the architecture, the portraits on the walls, the value of this and that piece, which neither he nor Aquilan appeared to be listening to. Not that Vesslan noticed as he appeared to just assume they would hang on his every word.

It is hard when one is with family who knew us before we took our thrones, the voice murmured. The old patterns remain. They still see us as the children we were rather than the adults we are now.

You have a throne? Declan pushed even as he rather agreed with the voice’s assessment of Aquilan’s position with Vesslan. The Sun King had explained it himself. There was a lot of stuff under the bridge between the two brothers and Aquilan wanted to somehow get past that and move forward. But what he didn’t know was where this voice’s experience came from. Were they royalty?

The voice continued on, And Ailduin has always been easy-going. Never one to push his higher position upon another. His presence normally is enough to remind those that they are standing with true royalty.

Aquilan, remember?

Hmmmmm. Oh, yes, yes, Aquilan. In any event, it is not only family members who see us and act as we once were, sometimes we do the same. We fall into those old patterns, the voice mused. It is when we break out of them that things become… messy and dangerous.

Declan’s mouth tightened. I will keep Aquilan safe if that happens.

Already you are his fierce defender! Many would say you hardly know him, the voice countered.

I know him, Declan insisted, surprised at the certainty there. He felt the Sun King’s presence at his shoulder. He felt the warmth of him. Both his body and soul. It was almost as if they had always been walking together towards a common goal. But he knew they had not. It only felt like they should have been. I know all I need to know about him.

Yes, I felt that same way. It is our nature, I suppose, to form permanent bonds in a moment.

Felt that same way? With Aquilan? Or with… Ailduin? Declan asked.

Did this voice know the ancient Sun King? What they had said earlier about his palace had been correct. But if that was true… who was he talking to? Who could this be?

Oh, Vesslan truly has recreated Efenalune here! But he has plastered the walls with scenes of… oh, my… the Leviathan invading Earth, the voice remarked with a tsk at the end. You shouldn’t look at them. Oh… too late…

Declan froze as he entered the rectangular throne room. The throne itself was on the far wall up several steps. It was so far away that it was hard to see other than it was cream and gold and ostentatious. The ceiling was several stories above their heads. There were windows on one side, but as the voice had noted, on the other, there were paintings.

The paintings were huge, spanning over ten feet long and just as tall. The colors used reminded him of the Renaissance masters as there was an almost internal luminescence to them. Declan’s hand went numb around the glass he was holding. Every single one of those paintings contained Leviathan. They were surrounded by Leviathan…

“Each of these scenes is from a significant battle in our war to reclaim Earth from the Leviathan!” Vesslan outstretched his arms, his face glowing with satisfaction. His mouth pinched slightly as he pointed to one painting that had caused Declan to stop dead in his tracks. “Ah, you should recognize this moment, Declan. This is you and the other two survivors when Aquilan appeared in Tyrael.”

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