Page 42 of Starchaser
I quickly raise my glass, joining their toast, but the words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Thankfully, I seem to have been granted my wish, because as the conversation picks up, and the first course is served, I feel blissfully invisible. So much so, that, halfway through my soup, the tension in my chest eases and my appetite recovers enough that I’m able to eat more than I’ve managed since the night Father died.
I think of Father all throughout the second and third course, wondering what he would have chosen to serve, were he the king’s head chef. I even find myself thinking of Owen and what he would have to say about each dish. At the thought of my brother, anger and grief take my heart in their cruel hands, squeezing tight. White-hot shame burns my cheeks. If Icansave Owen—if I canfree him from his service to the Guild—what would that look like? Could our siblings forgive him for what he did to Father?
Could I?
“Sorry I’m late,” a man says, taking the empty seat to the right of one of Will’s companions, next to Eliza. I feel at once as if I know him, but he doesn’t look at all familiar, with olive skin, tousled dark hair, a smile that could charm vipers, and—
A freshly healed scar over his missing hazel eye.
“Sir Cooper,” the king says, offering another hearty toast. “You honor us with your presence.”
“Please, Your Highness,” Flynn says, bringing a hand to his chest, and I note his House crest—the bat in midflight—embroidered on his black jacket in silver thread. With his other hand, he lifts his glass. “I am ever at your service.”
Excited murmurs pass between the nobility, and Henry leans over to whisper, “Eliza’s brothers are the only members of the nobility who have chosen to serve as Bloodknights.”
I wonder, then, why Gabriel is absent, but now hardly seems like the time to ask.
“You serve your kingdom well, Sir Cooper,” the king says, sipping his wine—wine that stains his teeth like blood. “I’ve been well assured that the rebels have been dealt with and that they no longer pose a threat, all thanks to you.”
Flynn dips his head graciously. “I cannot claim all the credit, Your Majesty,” he says, his voice smooth. “There were five Bloodknights with me who enacted justice on behalf of the Crown. One gave her life to secure your kingdom.”
The king frowns as the atmosphere shifts, his expression solemn.“And she will be honored.” He turns his attention, then, fully to me, and I feel as if I’m going to vomit. “Lady Aster,” he begins, rubbing his chin. “You know how these people think. You were once a pirate, were you not?”
I forget how to breathe—forget how to speak. “Yes, Your Highness,” I manage to say. “Before you so generously offered me a chance at reformation.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I think I see Titus’s lip quirk, the makings of a smirk.
“Do you believe these rebels deserve the same chance?” Queen Calantha asks innocently, but I know she means to entrap me.
If Will and Titus—if the entire Castor family—can play their parts, then I’ll put on my own show for the king and queen.
I sit up straighter in my seat. “I could not help that I was born into ignorance, Your Majesties,” I say, my voice stronger now than it was before. “These rebels, however, willingly oppose the Crown. I believe, truly, they know of your kindness and generosity, and yet they choose to defy you, therefore already having denied your offer for redemption.”
The king’s eyes narrow. “So you would agree, they should face the consequences of their actions?”
The nobility abandon their forks and knives, watching our exchange play out with rapt interest.
I’ve never hated myself more than when the words leave my mouth, damning me with every syllable, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
His eyes are lit with an all-consuming fire as he flashes his teeth in a challenging smile. “And what, might you suggest, should these consequences be? Should they hang?”
Challenge accepted.
I steel myself even as my heartbeat kicks into a gallop and force myself to smile a bit when I answer, “A rope is much too quick.” I note the way the king’s eyes dart to my neck—to the scar there—and know, in an instant, that I’ve won this round. “If you want them to pay, bleed them out like the animals they are. A knife to the throat is slow—it’s punishing. And it sends a much clearer message to anyone else who might believe they can act against the Crown and endure only a swift death at the mercy of the hangman’s noose.”
The king doesn’t break my stare for what feels like an eternity, and I wait, praying to the Stars that I appear confident, calm, and collected under his scrutiny.
He slams his fist down on the table, and I flinch as his hearty bellow breaks the tension, the nobility erupting with riotous laughter.
“A knife to the throat!” he cries, pointing his finger at me with a gleam of approval in his eyes—approval that marks me, forevermore, as a traitor to my people. “With that attitude, you’re going to make a fine Bloodknight.”
Beside me, Leo claps like a giddy child, and I can’t help but notice that while the king and his court seem entranced with the princess’s enthusiasm, Queen Calantha’s smile is laced with venom.
“So, Lady Aster—” Calantha starts, attempting to talk over the clamor of laughter, but Leo cuts across her as if she didn’t hear the queen speak.
“Speaking of Bloodknights,” Leo says, her chin resting on her primly knit hands as she bats her eyelashes at Flynn, and the table falls silent, hanging on to the princess’s every word. “Sir Cooper, you must tell us more about your time in Thorn—”
I take a few steadying breaths as Leo willingly becomes the focus of the king and the rest of the nobility’s attention. As Flynn begins to regale Leo with a story about defeating a rebel leader, I chance a look at Titus only to find he’s already watching me. His twisted frown, his narrowed eyes, would lead anyone to believe the prince isn’t impressed with his father’s shiny new toy, but I see the question in his eyes—see the fear, there, too.
