Hopeless Kingdom

by A. K. Koonce

  Our breaths mix between us as we stare with heated gazes at one another.

  The sound of the door creaking open relaxes his hold on my hands but neither of us move.

  “He wants to see you, Kara,” Darrio’s voice calls out to me and I shift until I’m sitting up. Dax lies back in his lazy spot once more.

  “What does he want?” I whisper.

  Darrio shifts on his feet but only shrugs.

  “He said he wanted a meeting with his Eminence.”

  Perfect.

  Chapter Eleven

  Thieving Eminence

  I’m distracted and tired and not at all prepared for whatever parlor trick the king is about to demand of me.

  A toxic sort of tension fills the span of the large dining hall. The tabletop gleams with a fresh polish while the gray tiles have a new coat of ash lining them. Dim sunlight shines across Tristan’s inky hair and he sits at the head of the table with his eyes fixated on me.

  Darrio’s shoulder brushes mine as he stands on my right-hand side and Ryder stands on my left. I’m a prisoner encompassed in power.

  Anna hasn’t looked up from her wine glass to acknowledge us. I assume it’s intentional based on how much attention her husband’s sending our way.

  And to the king’s right sits his mother. Her shining pink lips tip up in a smile and her hazy eyes spotlight only me.

  “I knew my son would bring you to me.” She nods with excitement and scurries from her seat.

  “Step son,” Ryder corrects in a lazy tone.

  Her attention shifts over him for less than a second before deterring back to me. A shining color gleams in her eyes as she looks up at me in awe. Only a foot of space separates this regal woman from me.

  Does she remember me? Does she remember murdering my father right in front of me? Does she know how often I imagine her death with vivid detail?

  “We haven’t been formally introduced.” Less than a second passes before she speaks again. “Can I hug you, your Eminence?” Her voice is quiet and unsure but her eyes are big with excitement.

  She wants to hug me? She trusts me to not rattle the life out of her elderly frame?

  “Of course,” I say with the breathy tone I imagine a serene deity might possess.

  Her hands wrap around me and my shoulders stiffen on contact. My arms fold around her and my palm clasps against her neck. The delicate bones of her spine are apparent against my fingertips. A thin gold chain brushes over my palm and how simple it would be to snap her perfectly held neck flashes through my mind.

  As she pulls back, I bring my hands firmly behind my back, squaring my posture. Nothing but an amazed smile is all she gives me.

  “You’re just as I expected you would be.”

  My hair is a tangled mess that desperately needs a real brush. My clothes are stained and unwashed. A shitty attitude is all I want to offer these people.

  And yet, she stares at me with pride and adoration.

  She’s in for a disappointment.

  “I’ve thought about it and I will release your binds.” Tristan folds his pale fingers atop the table and my gaze drags to his slight frame. “But, only yours and only after I have your word you will restore this kingdom.”

  This kingdom.

  Not the world.

  This kingdom.

  My lips pull together as I pretend to consider his offer.

  Removing my cuffs won’t do him a damn bit of good. Realistically it doesn’t do me any good either …

  Utter disappointment, I tell you.

  He’s clearly not stupid enough to remove Ryder or Darrio’s cuffs …

  “May I speak with you in private, my King?” My chin tips up, perfect posture holds my shoulders back, and I know exactly how proper I look right now.

  Every single person looks at me. Even Anna sits aside her inspection of her fascinating red wine to give me the attention I apparently deserve.

  His lips part, drawing attention to the thinly trimmed facial hair lining his features. A beat passes before he finally says, “Of course.”

  I meet Darrio’s eyes and I nod to him. It’s that easy.

  Somewhere along the lines, trust was accidentally formed between Darrio and I.

  He turns and leaves the room without question. He has faith in me. I can’t ruin that.

  Ryder slips his hand in mine and pulls me to the door. My boots scuff the floor as I trail after him.

  With a hushed tone, he leans into me. “Humans don’t understand how it works. They see your scars even though they aren’t darkened. They know you’re fae. They have no idea how the powers of a half fae work. Do not tell them. You’re powerless until you enter Hopeless waters, but just …”

  “Ryder.” I snap his name out, interrupting his long lecture.

  “What?” Worry lines his face as he stares down at me.

  “I’m not an idiot,” I say before shoving hard at the ridges of his back.

  I see him shake his head before joining Darrio in the empty hall.

  The sound of hushed anger whispers through the room and I wait patiently at the door for the other two women to exit.

  The tone grows louder and I turn to see Tristan gripping Anna’s wrist and leading her to the door.

  “Your insecurities will still be waiting for me after this meeting, I’m sure.” He releases her with a hard shove and she staggers out into the hall. Neither fae men move to assist her.

  Darrio stands with his brows raised high and Ryder simply holds his hands behind his back as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening here. For a moment, Tristan’s gaze meets Darrio’s and the fae’s eyes gleam with unshed power. A ripple of shining color highlights his stormy eyes.

  “If you touch my human like that,” Darrio cocks his head just slightly, “you won’t have a head for that pretty little crown, my King.”

  I force the smile not to touch my lips but I can’t force the arousal from swarming through me.

  An odd look passes over the king and I wonder if the word human confuses him. Tristan clears his throat and pulls nervously at the cuffs of the sleeves of his white button-down shirt.

  Without replying, he gently closes the door and offers me a generic smile.

  “Shall we?” He nods back to the table at the center of the long room.

  “I think you are forgetting someone,” I say without looking at his mother who hasn’t moved an inch.

  She plotted this. She’s the reason I’m here at all. She imprisoned her own step son for over a year just to get to me.

  And, most importantly, she’s the reason my father died when I was only sixteen.

  I guess in a way, she made me who I am today.

  There’s no way I’m sitting across from her without slitting her wrinkled throat. A serene smile passes her way as I beam affectionately across the room at her.

  A new wrinkle creases her brow as her blue eyes shift from me to her son.

  “If you will excuse us, Mother.” Tristan waves a careless hand toward the door and my polite smile turns wolfish.

  I’m all but bubbling with evil laughter. Manic happiness floods my senses.

  Her lips part but only a small breath escapes, her thin hands sweeping down the front of her dark gown.

  Push all you like, but those eternal wrinkles won’t wipe away, darling.

  Quietly, Tristan reopens the door for her and Ryder, Darrio, and Anna all stand just as they were.

  The king’s mother holds my gaze as she passes. It doesn’t deter my shining happiness. She has no idea this is only the first tiny step in a long, vengeful life I’ll lead with her. No, no, this is only the start.

  “Is your magic at all tangible even with the cuffs on?” Her eyes search mine.

  For a moment, I consider telling her of course not, that the great and powerful—slightly nonexistent—magic that courses through my veins is entirely shut away with the cuffs on.

  But where would the fun in that be?

  My hands shift from
behind my back and I pull something from the waist of my jeans.

  “I have a faded amount of abilities.” I feel the heavy press of attention on me but I don’t acknowledge them. Not even Darrio and Ryder. I keep my eyes firmly locked on hers. “I have the ability to take the things that are near and dear to your heart.”

  With a dramatic wave, I bring my hand above her face and let the thin gold chain swing down from my palm. She’s worn it each time I’ve seen her. She’s clung to it like an obsession.

  And I’ve noticed.

  Her eyes flare as she sees her own gold pendant in my hand.

  Her pale hands clasp around it with a gasp leaving her lips. Deliberately I lean into her, my eyes boring into hers.

  “Be careful, King’s Mother. Be very, very careful.” I have to physically purse my lips to keep the deranged happiness from spreading across my face from the fearful look she’s giving me.

  Without another word, I step past her. Carelessly, I begin to walk the length of the room. My fingers trail over the worn spines of books. Dark ash coats my fingertips. The door closes with a pronounced clicking sound and I continue to pretend to be aloof.

  And Tristan indulges my performance.

  If I’m being honest, I need space from him. I don’t trust him and the more space that separates him and I, the better.

  Plus, there’s that knight’s armor at the opposite end of the room. The promising sword is only a few feet away from me if needed.

  Once the span of the enormous room separates us, I pull out a large book from a middle shelf. It’s completely at random and to my surprise, it’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

  Poor fucking Alice always being thrown into bizarre realms before she’s ready.

  I flip a few pages and I let my confident voice ring out through the room.

  “I want to do this powerful kingdom justice, my King.”

  He doesn’t move closer to me. He simply pulls his hands behind his back.

  “I think we want the same things, your Eminence.”

  Your Eminence. Gods above, if Lady Ivory could see me now. I’m a stumbling juggling act of godly proportions.

  “I like you, Tristan.” A smile warms my features as I look up at him. “My magic is most powerful on the seventh eve of the full moon.”

  The moon. It can barely be seen among the smoke and clouds any more. It’s barely even noticed in this burning city.

  Does he know how to tell precisely how many eves we are from a full moon? Me fucking either.

  I’m counting on our high and mighty king to be as clueless as I am.

  “Really?” he says in an excited breath. “When exactly is the seventh eve? Have we missed it this month?”

  That smile on my lips raises a little higher, a little more genuine. I knew I could count on his ignorance if nothing else.

  I’ll need a little time to actually put a plan into place. Currently I’m just bullshitting my way through this entire meeting. Through life. I’m bullshitting my way through life, if I’m being honest.

  “We are in luck.” The book closes with a flurry of gray dust before I slip it back into its proper place. “Two nights from tonight is the seventh eve.”

  The seventh, the twelfth, the fifty-first for all I fucking know.

  His steps stalk closer to me. My eyes never leave his as I mentally calculate how many paces I’d need to reach the knights sword.

  Three.

  One if I flung myself.

  In this moment, I feel a little like the rabbit who taunted the wolf one too many times.

  I insisted we be alone. I used this persona to lure him here, to twist his perception of me into something of trust and power.

  The narrow span of his thin chest brushes my arm as he lowers his head down to mine.

  “I prayed for you,” he says on a confessional whisper that fans across my tightly strung neck. There’s something dark within the king. I feel it radiating off of him like the ancient and abandoned magic that pollutes this earth. “My mother said if I gave up all that I loved then the world would be returned to me. That I would be rewarded beyond my wildest dreams.” Long fingers toy with the ends of my hair.

  I wish I knew exactly how I get myself into these situations. How did a lonely thief end up sharing a bed with two mythical fae men every night? How’d that same thief become the obsession of the most powerful mortal man in this country? How the hell did they all let me become the Eminence with zero reference checks?

  Brilliant fucking stupidity is all I can blame.

  I stupidly fell into this all in the most brilliant of ways.

  My hips sway as I slip out of his touch and trail my fingers along the books, circling back to the door. He watches me as I give him coy glances from beneath my long lashes. Cautiously I hide the fear that’s pounds through my heart. He simply stares with a demanding yearning in his bright eyes.

  “You haven’t gotten me yet, my King,” I say in an all too promising whisper just before I walk out of the room.

  I walk out knowing I have only one chance to escape this kingdom; on the supposed seventh eve of the full moon.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Numbness

  The four of us lounge in my room. Ryder leans against the wall just near the door, he pins me with a hard stare but no one utters a single word.

  Daxdyn continues to lie on my bed like a toddler exhausted from a hard day while Darrio sits in a loveseat that appears too small for his large frame. I slip into bed next to Daxdyn and trail my palm down his forearm. Twisting covers lay in a mess between him and me but it doesn’t stop the apparent sadness I feel radiating off of him. His face is tilted into the hook of his arm and he seems to be asleep but I doubt he truly is.

  I’ve noticed when he’s left alone for hours he sinks back into himself; into whatever consuming darkness resides within him.

  “What happened during your meeting, your Eminence?” Ryder’s teasing tone breaks the silence and I pull my gaze away from Daxdyn.

  The hard headboard meets the back of my hair as I tip my head up to look at the swirling lines on the ceiling.

  “I’m not sure really.” I suppose I am but what if nothing comes of it? What if, in two days’ time, we’re all still prisoners of the Kingdom of Juvar?

  “You’re not sure?”

  Gods above is the exiled prince really good at repeating everything I say.

  Let’s see just how much he likes his little taunting games.

  “Did you know she was your brother’s wife?”

  My tongue sweeps across my lips as I lower my gaze to him. His eyes shine with a knowing look. He feels the provoking tone of my voice, I can see it in his eyes.

  He pushes his hands into his pockets. It’s a stance I’m becoming familiar with, but I don’t know what it means. Slowly, his teeth rake over his lower lip and I wonder if he’ll answer my question at all.

  “Yes.”

  Darrio tips his head to the side to look at his friend. Even Daxdyn shifts uneasily but he doesn’t move from his comfortable spot.

  “Why did you start a relationship with your brother’s wife?” My eyes narrow on him.

  It’s a disgustingly low thing to do.

  If I were Ryder, would I have done it?

  I chew on all the pros and cons. His brother took his title. His brother took the crown that was meant for him. His brother lived a life of royalty, while Ryder was thrown into a foreign realm alone and forgotten by his family. His brother—

  “He killed my father.” Ryder’s bright eyes lower until he’s studying the chunks of dry dirt on the edges of his dark boots.

  Oh.

  It takes less than a second for me to decide; I would have done the same thing. I would have taken what was closest to Tristan’s heart just to hurt him.

  Then I realize how similar Ryder and I really are. Tristan killed Ryder’s father and Tristan’s mother killed my father. He and I are these pathetically broken beings because one family though
t they were more powerful than anyone else.

  I think I started this conversation because I wanted to torment Ryder for his condescending attitude but now I can’t find it in me to continue with the topic.

  I should apologize.

  “I’m gonna go,” Ryder says, shoving off from his spot against the wall. Before anyone can even say good-bye, he’s already left.

  The door clicks closed behind him and I just stare at it for several seconds.

  Darrio stands and I find myself doing the same thing. I cross the room to him and he peeks over my head to where his brother lies.

  Warmth brushes over my palm as he tangles his fingers with mine.

  We walk quietly to the door, hand in hand. There’s all these important thoughts circling my mind but they get pushed aside for one in particular.

  No sex tonight?

  “What are you thinking?” he asks as he stares down at me. His thumb brushes back and forth against my knuckles.

  It’s an odd feeling that’s alive between us and it’s accompanied by an odd look in his sparkling eyes. I lean into him and he kisses my jaw in a sweet and tender way. A shiver shakes through me from the soft feel of his lips followed by the rough feel of his beard.

  It’s something so unlike him it makes me think surprising and astounding thoughts.

  We’ve spent every night together. He’s held me every night. He laughs and smiles and talks as if …

  “Tell me what you’re thinking?” he asks again.

  “I think you’re in love with me.”

  He pulls back from me with quiet laughter humming through him.

  “Hardly.” His finger skims across the tip of my nose, a small, sparking jolt tingles through me. It makes him smile. He does that a lot lately; smiles at me as if he actually enjoys my presence.

  “It’ll be a lot easier on you if you just admit it now, rather than later.” I lean into him in a daunting way, my chest brushing his.

  He tilts his head down at me. A serious look fills his face, as if it’s the first time he’s ever really seen me. The scruff of his beard skims my cheek, sending a shiver all through my body. A breath fans across my neck and in the quietest of confessional whispers, he says, “I’m not in love with you, Zakara Storm.”