Page 55 of Heart of Dawn
“A test,” Dawn said. “Fae blood must be broken. Fae blood must not hinder.”
The effects of my blood were still a mystery.
What about the undying fae? Did their unnatural life corrupt it, thereby working differently?
The nausea passed, leaving my mouth dry.
Dawn licked its lips, eyes rolling in its sockets.
“Take me home,” the king said. “I cannot stand this.”
“Did you seriously miss Dawn while you spied on me?” I asked.
The king’s head snapped in my direction. “What did you say?”
I repeated my question, adding, “I can’t understand how you can watch everything yet miss the crucial details. Was there a bad signal? A blind spot in the orbs?”
“Don’t listen to him, my king,” a guard said. “Say the word and I’ll cut out his tongue.”
Wendy landed on my shoulder. “You will do no such thing.”
Damien’s face flooded with hate. “I saw all I needed to bring me here. I regret it now. I regret everything.”
I couldn’t help my response. “Like dooming Faery?”
“Enough!” a guard barked. “You will not speak to His Majesty with such brazen disrespect.”
Because he deserved my respect? Sure. Okay. Maybe once upon a time when I breezed through life, ignorant to violence, to real suffering, to the slimy machinations of monarchs and big human corporations making deals in the shadows.
Now my eyes were wide open, my soul stained with darkness.
My people didn’t deserve to suffer because of the likes of King Damien. Just as humans didn’t deserve to be wiped out by terrible people cranking the winches of power.
“Go on, run!” I yelled. “Hide in your palace. Let the rest of us take care of the mess you made.”
The king held up a hand to stop an enraged guard. “Ignore him.”
What a disgusting sliver of assbug excrement. “What about the honey?”
His lips curled into a snarl. “Your insect friend has already made it clear she doesn’t care for the future of this realm. So why should I?”
“Pathetic,” I replied. “What a weak man you are.”
“I’m weak? You have no idea how I feel, what I would do foryourfuture.”
I swallowed a laugh. “You tried snuffing out my future. Don’t even try?—”
“I do what is best for the realm!” he spat. “I sit on the throne because I have been bestowed with the responsibility to protect my people. You are one of those people, Orion, regardless of my order to take your life.”
Pitiful. Absolutely pitiful. He sat on the throne because his mother did, and her father before her. Handed power, never voted in, making decisions for the rest of us.
Looking back, the throne should’ve gone to his twin brother, Prince Dorian. He’d been seen as the weakest brother by their mother, completely unfit for the throne compared to the glorious Damien.
The realm agreed, ignoring Dorian’s greater capacity for empathy.
I always admired the king, went to royal parades, celebrated his birthdays—all of those things. Even made the special orange and lemon cake in honor of his tenth year on the throne.
My monarchist leanings were in tatters now. My respect went down the drain, the rosy spectacles losing their lenses.
