Page 12 of Boundless
Len nodded. "Y-yessir." He left before his father could say anything else.
DAEGA
THE HOLLOW, shattered look on Len's face when he emerged from the dining room made her stomach sink even as her blood fizzed and boiled. Howdarethat vile man do this to his son? How could the bastard live with himself knowing that he'd utterly broken his own child like that?
"Len?" she called softly, taking a step closer to him. His eyes met hers, glossy and reddened, making her chest hollow out. Her brows drew together in concern, but she managed to smile at him as she held out her hand to him. "Shall we return to our rooms, sweet?"
He nodded, returning her smile with a weak wobbly thing, but he didn't take her hand. That worried her. Based on that heinous farce of a meal, it was obvious that the king was trying to poison his son against her, but to what end she couldn't guess. If their relationship went well, then that was all the better for the treaty, was it not? And as powerful as elf magic was, they'd been losing the war when the treaty was suggested, so they'd have more to lose to peace failing by far.
Perhaps it came down to vanity and pride—didn't it usually with elves?—which made Len that much more of a gift, in her eyes. His own people shunned him for being unselfish, but among her people,thatwas what garnered respect. Someone always looking out for themself wasn't someone who could be trusted to have the needs of the community foremost in their mind, so why let them lead?
Once they were safely ensconced behind closed doors she went to the bed and sat on the edge, patting the spot beside her in invitation. Len looked at her blankly for a moment, then sat down obediently, hanging his head.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, nudging him gently. He shrugged, his eyes still downcast. Daega wasn't quite sure what to do, then; she wasn't used to seeing someone so...absent, so sucked into the mire of their despair that they couldn't even manage one-word answers.
She put an arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his golden temple, resting her cheek on the top of his head. "You did very well, sweet," she murmured. "I'm proud of you."
He shuddered, a sob tearing from his throat. "For w-what?! I j-justsatthere, u-useless. My m-m-mother wouldh-hatewhat I've become—"
"Hold on now, where does your mum come into this? From everything you've told me I can't seethatbeing true at all."
Len was quiet and stiff. When he'd been quiet so long she thought he was going to stay that way, he finally spoke: "I-it's...it's one of the th-things he says."
She was standing in an instant, her tail lashing and a growl rumbling through her chest. "I'll kill him," she snarled. "Peace treaty be damned! Len, he's a godsdamnedmonster, and you are forced to call himfather? To call him ‘Your Grace’,” she seethed, venom swelling her glands so that she would be forced to spit it out soon. Preferably directly into Haedelon's eyes.
Len was staring at her in disbelief, his soft mouth parted and his green eyes round. It was enough to take the edge off of her anger, for her to worry that his seeing her like this would make him see her as a monster.
"Len...my sweet one..." She cupped his face, sagging in relief when he leaned into her touch. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to threaten your da. But that's..."
He sniffled, looking up at her through damp lashes. "I-it's bad?"
"Aye, sweetling. It's theworst."
He nodded, still looking downtrodden. "Will you s-sit beside me a-again?"
"Of course. I've just got to pop into the bathroom for a moment." Her venom glands were full and aching, needing relief. She went to the sink and spat, the viscous black fluid sizzling in the basin. She turned on the tap and washed it down the drain, then swished some more water in her mouth to clean it. Once she was satisfied all traces were gone, she turned off the water and rejoined Len on the bed.
To her surprise, as soon as she was settled he was climbing into her lap, his legs straddling her hips and his arms going around her neck. He tucked his face into the crook of her neck, taking a shuddering breath. She wrapped her arms tight around his back, petting him in smooth strokes. At length, she felt wet heat on her skin, soaking into the neck of her shirt.
"He's a terror, to be sure," she said, keeping her voice down. "Anyone else would have succumbed to his poison by now, would be just as cold and miserable as he is. But not you. Because you'rebetterthan he is. Strong. And how could your mum not be proud of that?"
He shuddered, squeezing closer, and she rocked him, aching for the pain she could do nothing about.
"H-he doesn't want us to be happy t-together," he whispered suddenly, his voice thick and hoarse. "I don't kn-know why, but he wants me to o-only see the worst in you."
She rolled her eyes at the predictability of bastards. "Aye, I thought so, too. Pity you're too smart to fall for his bullshite." He chuckled softly. "What do you want to do about it? Once we move onto the camps it'll be naught but an unpleasant memory, but until then I don't want to give him any cause to make you feel like this again."
He pulled back, looking into her eyes. "But i-if I don't protect you, then he'll j-just come directly for you, instead. He's—he'sbrutal, Dae."
She cupped one of his cheeks and wiped away his tears with her thumb. "He can try. But he's going to realize all too soon his bullying won't work on me. I know who I am and no bastard elf king is going to unsettle that."
Another tear leaked from out of his eye, but the sadness had fled his expression, something like want taking its place.
Without saying a word, he surged forward, his mouth crashing into hers and startling a gasp out of her. His tongue darted along the seam of her mouth, begging for admittance, and she opened gladly for him, swallowing his moan and feeding him one of her own.
Their hands became urgent, grasping, and when his long fingers grazed against the base of one of her wings she gasped, arching into his touch and shivering hard.
"Th-that feels good?" he asked, panting and dazed in her lap.
