by Casey Odell
“Would I have to become his mistress as well?” Claire asked, her throat becoming even drier. She felt like she could drink the whole teapot at that moment.
A smirk crept over Lianna’s lips, one that had surely led many men to their demise. “A small price to pay. The Council cannot touch me, or you if you wish. Besides, there are other perks.”
Like a beautiful garden perhaps. Or maybe she really could get that glorious bath she’d been dreaming of.
“They will try to bribe you, The Council. Promise you gold, status, whatever you ask for. But do not fall for their tricks. Their price is high indeed. They will never let you go, not willingly. Farron was able to escape, but he was never truly theirs to begin with. He never swore allegiance to them. Being the brother of the king helped, even a bastard one. You don’t have that luxury. Not if you refuse the protection of His Grace.” Lianna reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “I know you do not want to see him get hurt any more than I do,” she continued. “At least that way, you can protect yourself and him. Think about it, Claire.”
Claire nodded, still a little speechless about the whole idea. Her? A mistress of a King? Who would have thought? And although she thought the idea to be crazy, she had to admit that it did make some sort of sense. Lianna had told her to think about it, and that she would. It wasn’t the first idea that had terrified her, after all.
Three days later, she was summoned by the very man himself. His Highness.
Marla the maid escorted her through the dark hallways, only after stuffing her into a dreadful corset, of course. Laced tight, it made it even harder to breathe, her breath already short with nerves, her stomach clenched into knots.
Borrowed from Lianna, the dress was one of the most beautiful she’d ever worn. And also one of the raciest, pushing her bosom up so high she was afraid it would come tumbling out at any moment. Silk of the deepest purple, made up the bodice and the full skirt, swishing loudly around her legs from the multiple layers of petticoat.
With her hair done up, and a light layer of shadow to her eyes and rouge to her cheeks, she felt a little embarrassed. Both Marla and Lianna insisted on making her presentable, though undoubtedly for different reasons. Any way she looked at it, she felt like she was being presented to the King as some sort of object, or if Lianna had her way, his new potential mistress.
But she had no plans to be either.
Deep in the bowels of the palace, Marla led her down a series of stairs, and she couldn’t help but get the feeling they were going deep into the ground. Just like that night with the Roain, in the underground cave, she could feel the weight of the earth crushing in around her. The hall became even darker, lit sparsely by torches on the walls in wide intervals. The walls and floors themselves became plainer, made of rough gray stone instead of the polished marble found throughout the rest of the palace.
Halfway down the cramped, long hallway, Marla stopped at the only door, large and wooden, and particularly ominous. Wherever the elderly woman had led her, it definitely wasn’t meant for the outside world to see, or hear. And she didn’t like it.
Claire’s stomach clenched tighter and she wished desperately for the lacings on the corset to be loosened, just enough to make it easier to breathe again. Marla turned to her then, but instead of knocking on the door, she bowed and took her leave, walking back down the dark hallway out of sight, leaving her there alone to face whatever was behind that thick wood.
With her breath held, she raised her hand to knock, but then lowered it, putting it instead on the doorknob. She turned it and pushed the door open slowly. Whatever visions plagued her mind, they surely hadn’t prepared her for what stood before her. Her mouth slightly agape, she stepped into the dim room.
The ceiling was high, the rock above raw and jagged as it was when it was first carved out of the solid, dark earth. The walls and floor were smooth and polished to a high gleam. Several torches surrounded the room, the flames casting a flickering light. Big and round, the chamber was cavernous, but at the same time somehow intimate. Claire stepped further in, her eyes wandering down to the most interesting and remarkable feature. Carved into the floor was a giant map, showing in great detail the Kingdom and the rest of the lands. The land masses a darker shade of stone than the one representing water. Tiny towns and cities dotted here and there, and at the center lay the palace, perched high on its cliffs over the town below.
Hesitantly, she stepped out onto the map. Claire studied it for a few moments; Lendon lay far to the right, or east. Even Stockton was represented, small and unimpressive, but still, it was there, carved into stone to last for all eternity, or longer than the real thing, at least.
It wasn’t until several moments later that she noticed the dark smears, far to the west and slightly north, the area Razi had told her he was heading to. Black paint covered most of the tiny towns in messy splatters.
“They’re gone,” said a deep, clear voice from behind her, unmistakably the King. “Those towns.”
Claire’s back straightened involuntarily as she turned to look at him as he stepped out of the shadows onto the map. Even in the dim light, he still looked luminous. His platinum blonde hair hung down around his shoulders in soft waves. A light gray jacket, with rows of silver buttons, hung open over an ivory lace shirt and dark slacks. Black polished boots up to his knees clacked loudly on the stone as he walked. But even in all his grandeur, he wore such a grim look, his mouth set in a tight line. She knew then that indeed, she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
Quickly, she did a slight curtsy, bowing her head down low. Her heart beat in her throat.
“At ease, child,” he said as he waved his hand in the air. He looked tired, worn. “I have not brought you down here for formalities.”
“Then what, if I may ask, have you brought me here for?”
“To talk. Or more specifically, to ask you a favor.”
Heat flushed over her skin. Claire shifted, rubbing her hands over her skirt. He wasn’t going to ask her to go fight a Beast of Old, was he? Even though she had defeated one, she wasn’t sure she was even remotely ready to face another. She watched silently as he stepped slowly around her, his hands clasped behind his back, too afraid of what he was going to ask to utter a word.
“Farron, does he mean something to you?”
The question was so unexpected it nearly knocked her back onto the hard floor in shock. She took a deep breath, but the tightness in her shoulders didn’t ease. She doubted the King would bring her all the way down here just to catch up on his gossip.
“U-um,” she stammered, trying to search for the right answer.
“Though he may not have told me where, or what he was sent to do, I believe we both know who sent him. And why.”
Claire raised her eyebrows at that. Apparently, everyone had known but her. Either she was severely out of the loop, or she was really dense. Preferably it would be the first option, but lately, she was feeling more of the latter.
“Perhaps you would like to share then, Your Majesty,” she said carefully. “He never told me anything.” Even thinking about it boiled her blood.
“Of course he wouldn’t,” he stated plainly like it was a fact that she should already know. Perhaps she should have. “It seems that the Council isn’t too happy with the brother of the King getting too close to one of their new… recruits.” He hesitated before the last word as if he changed his mind from what he really wanted to say.
It seemed like Lianna’s predictions had turned out to be true. Though she didn’t like that she was part of the reason the Council was using him, she couldn’t see what she could possibly do about it. “I was under the impression that he hated them, but then he suddenly goes out on a mission for them without telling me anything. Whatever they offered him had better be good. It must have been in order for him to go so willingly.” Even after he’d gone so far as to warn her to stay away from them herself, there he went, so easily pulled back into what he’d tried
so hard to escape.
“I do not think he went so… willingly, as you have put it.”
“Of course he did. He wouldn’t have done so otherwise.” He was more stubborn than she was at times.
“Not if they hold something he so desperately wants.” He gave her a meaningful look.
“What would…” It hit her then, the realization stinging her in the gut. But she couldn’t believe it. “Me?” No, not her. The Council wouldn’t use her against Farron, would they? Though that could explain the words he’d whispered to her. No wonder he hadn’t told her why he was going on his mission. If he had, she would have slapped the sense right back into him, as Mother would say. “Why would he do that?” she murmured to herself. Then to the King, she asked, “Why would they do that?”
A smirk touched his lips. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, my dear. A man in love is a dangerous and foolish thing. A thing that the Council would seek to exploit.”
“I don’t think—” Claire began to protest. Love? Who had said anything about love?
“And they’ll keep sending him out on missions until he finally doesn’t come back at all.”
Claire struggled to breathe. The corset felt like it was getting tighter and tighter. She hated the fact that yet another person was putting themselves in danger for her. Not that he hadn’t before, but still…
“They have a new errand boy now, and their old one is just making things more complicated. And the Council was never fond of complications.”
“But,” she began, her voice a little too uneven for her liking, “he’s your brother. You’re the King! Surely you can do something?”
“Officially, he doesn’t even exist. The only thing I can do, other than locking him in a cell, is order him not to do it. However, we both know how well he listens.” He looked down at her, eyes unwavering. “Do you love him?”
“I… I don’t know.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you care for him?”
“Unfortunately,” she admitted, getting slightly agitated. “What exactly do you expect me to do?”
He was quiet for a moment, eyebrow still raised expectantly. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
It took her a moment, and then she began to shake her head back and forth. “Oh, no. I can’t—”
“If you care for him like you say, then I ask you to break off whatever you have. Before things truly become complicated. If you don’t love him, then it shouldn’t be too hard a task.”
Claire could feel her mouth drop open, the rest of her still, unmoving. Although Lianna’s predictions should have prepared her for this, she wasn’t in the least. She’d been so busy thinking about her other recent revelations that this one had completely escaped her thoughts.
Before she could say anything, the King said, “I can protect you, however. Lianna has insisted that I do. I wonder why that is?”
Claire’s eyes shifted back to the King. Was this it? Was this where he asked her to be his mistress? Or could he order her to?
A grin broke the solemnity of his face. “I wouldn’t touch you, unless you wished it.”
She took a step back, suddenly uncomfortable by his proximity.
“Of course that would mean that other men couldn’t so much as lay a finger on you.” He took a step towards her. “Including the Council. Including my brother.”
Her gaze shifted away to the ground. Could she do it? Did she have a choice?
“Perhaps then,” his voice dropped lower, “I can find out for myself what has Razi and my brother so spellbound.”
Her attention snapped back to the King. Where did Razi figure into all of this? He was just training her to use her powers. Sure, they had spent a lot of time together recently, but that was all it was. Training. And the occasional mind dive. Besides, she hardly found herself to be the spellbinding type. That seemed more Lianna’s forte.
“Could it be that she wishes for a companion?” he asked more to himself. “Or is there another reason that she insists so strongly?”
The King closed the distance between them and grabbed her right arm. He yanked it up to examine it in the low light, his eyes tracing the lines, which had grown slightly longer in the three days since she had visited with Lianna. The ends just reached her elbow now.
“Tell me, Claire, why is it that you have not been able to use your powers?”
“I don’t…” She stopped, unsure of how to answer. If he found out, what would he do then? Cast her out? Or find another way to get her powers to emerge? Like Lord Byron had… She tried to take another step back, but he held her arm firmly. Sweat broke out along her skin. Down here, no one would hear her scream. No one would come to her aid or would dare to against the King.
“Is it because of this?” He traced a finger down her scar.
She was quiet.
“My dear, if indeed your powers do not work, then you will need my protection all the more. Though it is a shame, I do not seek your kind for their fighting prowess.”
Claire narrowed her eyes at the King. “Then why do you seek us?” Finally, she had asked the question that had been bothering her since she arrived at the palace and the one that everyone seemed to be avoiding.
The King lowered her arm, then turned her around towards the black splotches on the map. “My land, my kingdom, is dying,” he stated simply from behind her.
“Because of the beasts?”
“No.” He brought her arm up in front of her and murmured into her ear. “Because the magic is gone. Or should I say, hidden? In you. In all of you.” He dropped her arm and stepped out from behind her to look down at the map. The solemn expression was back. Worry lines had started to form around the corners of his eyes, marring his ethereal looks.
Her eyes grew wide. “And you want to restore it?”
“Magic, I believe, was a part of the land, the life force. We were able to tap into that power. Build great cities. Invent new technologies. Make life better for us all. But then things changed. That happens when only a few have such great power. A few prosper while the rest suffer. I am not saying what had happened was right, nor do I want it to return to that. Nor am I saying that it is possible to restore the magic to the land. But I have to try.
“Year after year the desert to the west expands, ever further. Crops are failing all over the kingdom. The city is filled with men seeking help that I cannot give, farmers, mothers, children. Their homes are being destroyed. Their lives…” He took a deep breath and let it out. “As I am sure you have heard, the seals on the beasts are dissipating. Already they have claimed thousands. My forces cannot defeat them on their own.”
“Are you sure it’s due to the absence of magic?”
“What else could it be?”
“A bad year?” Every region was bound to have one or two.
“No,” he said as he raked his fingers through his hair. “Not this many in a row. I have pored over the scrolls, time and time again, but in the end, all my conclusions lead to you, the Star Children.”
“How?” she asked. “How do you do it?”
“I don’t know exactly. There’s nothing written, that I know of, on how to do it. But there has to be a way. If it was taken away, then it can be brought back.” His gaze met hers. “And it has to happen soon, or else even your homeland will look like this.” He pointed down at the crossed out towns. “My son— everyone— deserves a better future than that.”
Claire nodded quietly in agreement. “So you plan to gather all of us here?”
“That is my plan, and the Council’s, although we don’t exactly… agree on everything.”
“Do… do you know how many of us there are?” she asked as her gaze swept the map.
“Seven. At least that’s what all the scrolls lead me to believe.” He stepped back, hands behind his back again. “I know the Syndicate has two, though I do not know where. The others, well, they are just as lost to me as you once were.”
“Can’t you just get Lianna
to track them down?”
He shook his head. “She cannot sense them until after they have awakened, the same with Razi. And most of my soldiers are occupied in the west. If we were to be invaded, now would be the perfect time to do so.” The King smiled, but she didn’t.
Claire’s eyes swept the map again. The others could be anywhere. Who knew how long it would take to find them? “How do you plan to…” She trailed off. The task just seemed too impossible, too great to undertake in such a short time.
“So Claire, do we have an agreement?” he asked, bringing her back to their original topic.
“Are you willing to do this, even if it means he’ll run away again?” she asked, but knew she was really asking the question of herself. In the end, no matter how she looked at it, she’d be doing the same thing Lianna had done to him a couple of years ago. Why wouldn’t he run away again? And after all, she had been the one who’d asked him to leave before. She just didn’t think this was the way she wanted it to happen.
He nodded. “At least if he runs away, he will no longer be caught in their schemes.”
“Fine,” she decided. “I’ll do what you ask. For his sake, not yours.” Regret already was twisting her stomach into knots, making her feel nauseous. But it had to be done. No more would people suffer for her sake. Not if she could do something about it. Even if it meant breaking his heart. And so soon after she’d finally found it…
She could see relief touch his face, though not enough. He seemed to relax a bit, but his posture still looked stiff.
“However, I will not become your mistress,” she added. She really didn’t see the point in it, beautiful baths be damned. “I have no intention of working for the Council either.” Especially after finding out first-hand how low they would actually go to get what they wanted.
The King nodded again. “If that is what you wish.” He rested his tired but stunning eyes on hers once more. “Farron cannot know that I asked this of you.”