Discipline (Omega Queen Series Book 1)

by W. J. May

  Evie glanced wistfully at her bow.

  “Duty calls...”

  As Asher grabbed their things, Ellanden picked up the child.

  “Come, cousin,” he instructed, hoisting her under his arm. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  She let out a sigh as he started carrying her to the tables, oblivious when she started glumly trailing the point of an arrow in the grass. Halfway there, he glanced over his shoulder.

  “Evie, you coming?”

  Her eyes drifted once more to the royal procession before shaking her head. “In a minute. I want to walk around a little first.”

  The others headed off with a shrug as she started winding her way back through the tents, walking slowly and deliberately, taking the long way around.

  Asher’s right. We should do something like this every year.

  She breathed in deeply, catching the faint scent of honey and leaves.

  For one of the few times in recent memory, the scores of people wandering past took no notice of her. A pack of little children actually knocked into her shoulder as they ran past.

  She paused for a moment, taking it all in, when a strange woman standing at the edge of the festival suddenly caught her eye. She was a witch—at least, she was dressed like one. There were plenty of false wiccans and fake palm readings at events like this. But something about the woman made Evie doubt she was one of them. The lines on her face were as deep as time, and she stared at the princess with eyes that had been alive too many years not to have learned how to see.

  A second later, she lifted a gnarled hand—gesturing her forward.

  Evie lifted her eyebrows in shock, actually glancing over her shoulder to make sure she was the one the witch had summoned. There was no one. Everyone else was bustling by on their way to the tables, rushing past the old woman like she wasn’t even there.

  The witch waved again. This time, with a smile.

  Generally speaking, children of the royal household weren’t permitted to go off by themselves with strangers. Generally speaking, swords and wolves quickly became involved.

  But her parents were with the others at the high table. Her friends were there as well. The old lady had made it past the guards into the festival. She couldn’t be that bad.

  ...right?

  Moving with extreme caution Evie made her way through the stream of people, stopping when she and the woman were just a few feet away from each other. She looked even older up close. Like she’d been granted immortality, but her body had continued to age.

  “Spare an old woman some coin?”

  The princess looked past her through the open flap of the tent. She’d been wrong. The whole thing was set up for tourists. Crystal ball, tea leaves, a hand-sketched map of the stars. She suddenly wondered if the woman was old at all. Her face would have made better sense as a mask.

  “I should be getting to the feast—”

  “Just a moment, Everly. It won’t take long.”

  The princess froze in surprise.

  She couldn’t remember the last time a commoner had dared to use her first name. In all her years, it had happened only once. The man was promptly flogged by her bodyguards.

  “You have some questions, I think.” The old woman smiled, showing a mouthful of mossy teeth. “Perhaps I can give you some answers...”

  In hindsight, Evie didn’t know what made her do it. Maybe it was the fact that the woman had called her by name. Maybe, amidst the sheer revulsion of seeing that ghastly smile, she had lost all sense of things and simply did as she was told. But she found herself entering the tent.

  The flap closed behind her, sealing her into mystical world of candlelight and dust. A cloud of incense hung heavy in the air and she coughed a little before perching upon a cushion.

  “So what is it exactly that you do?” she asked routinely, glancing around. “Are you going to hypnotize me, or maybe read my palm—”

  She looked up with a gasp, to see the woman sitting right in front of her.

  “Nothing so trivial as that, my princess. What concerns me is a person’s destiny.”

  Evie raised her eyebrows, trying hard to control her expression. “You know, I’m related to a few people who would find this personally offensive...”

  Her voice trailed off as she stared at the witch with a touch of concern. Instead of sitting across from her at the little table, the woman had begun to sway slightly where she stood. Her head tilted back and a deep noise started rumbling in her chest like there were a hundred voices inside her instead of just one—each of them muttering, each of them longing to get out.

  Concern turned to surprise. Surprise quickly turned to fear.

  “What is this?”

  She leapt to her feet with a shriek as the woman’s head snapped forward again. Her eyes were open, but all the color had vanished from the center—leaving them perfectly white.

  Her withered arms rose, reaching for the princess’ hands.

  “Don’t touch me—”

  Then, all at once, a deep voice filled every corner of the room.

  “Three shall set out, though three shall not return

  To recover a stone from a land that won’t burn.

  Long they shall travel, for deep does it dwell

  To bring to the land either heaven or hell.

  They shall fall out of step in a land without time

  And toil in shadow where stars cannot shine.

  Old enemies prowl, for the dead never die

  But peace will prevail if the dragon can fly.”

  Just like that, it was over.

  The flaps of the tent shuddered, then were still. The candles flickered, then came back strong. Then the woman’s eyes cleared and she flashed the princess a welcoming smile.

  “Now, my dear...shall we begin?”

  Evie stared in terror—lips parted, eyes wide with shock. She tried to speak, but no words would come. The most she could do was stumble backward to the door of the tent.

  “I have-I have to...”

  A pair of cool hands clamped onto her shoulders and she whirled around with a scream, only to find herself staring into a pair of familiar dark eyes.

  Asher raised his eyebrows slowly, releasing her at the same time. “The feast is starting; we need to sit down.”

  She stared at him for a moment, mind still racing with everything she’d just seen. Then she grabbed hold of his hands and whirled back to the old woman.

  “There was this witch,” she gasped. “She just—”

  But the words died on her tongue.

  Because the tent and everything in it...was gone.

  Chapter 3

  “Ash, I’m telling you! There was this terrifying old lady—”

  “Yes, I know,” the vampire interrupted, pulling her swiftly through an ever-growing tide of people. “You said.”

  She’d been prattling non-stop since they’d left the tents behind. But between her level of incoherence and the mysterious lack of physical evidence, he was having trouble taking her seriously.

  In truth, she was having trouble taking herself seriously. The entire thing was so ludicrous, by the time he’d pulled her away she half-believed she’d made it up herself. She carried on a while just out of principle, but the prattling was getting harder as well. No matter how hard she tried to remember exactly what had happened, it kept slipping through her fingers. Like trying to remember a dream. By the time they got to the table, the witch had vanished. Only the fateful words remained.

  “Well, look who decided to show up.” Her mother smiled sweetly but caught her arm in a deceptively iron grip, muttering into her ear. “And where have you been?”

  “Oh, you know...just wandering around.” She pulled herself free, then settled down quickly amongst her friends.

  An accord had apparently been struck between Cosette and Ellanden. If he told their parents she’d been hiding behind the target, she’d tell them how she’d caught him in bed with a tree nymph last winter so
lstice. Each one was eating in silence, determined not to look the other in the eye.

  “Hey,” he said quickly, looking up as she sat beside him, “where have you been?”

  “Don’t ask,” Asher replied before she could speak, smiling faintly at the honorary plate that had been set at his place. “She’ll tell you some crazy story...there’s a chance she’s drunk.”

  “Really.” Ellanden leaned forward conspiratorially. “Do you have anything left?”

  Cosette rolled her eyes, stabbing her fork impatiently into a sugared pastry.

  “You already snuck some ale down by the blacksmith’s. Do you really need more—”

  “Have you been following me?” he interrupted angrily.

  “Ellanden.”

  A single word from his father and the boy fell silent, staring down at his plate.

  The adults were sitting at the center of the table, looking exactly the same way that evening as they had twenty-five years ago. The battle to save the world from the clutches of Nathaniel Fell had brought with it many things, one of which was immortal life for the young rulers. Ever since Katerina slipped the gem into the crown, the friends hadn’t aged a single day.

  It was a little awkward at times, having parents who looked only a few years older than you were yourself. But while the stone had retained their youth, there was something aged about them as well. A wisdom that came from years of experience. You could see it sometimes in the flash of an expression. The curve of a brow. The twinkle of a knowing eye.

  Of course, not everyone had ceased to age.

  At that moment her father stood up with a beaming smile, opening his arms as a pair of elderly people made their way through the crowd. Elderly, yet somehow not old. No matter how many years they spent roaming the planet Evie didn’t think they could ever, truly be old.

  “Michael.”

  Dylan might have been crowned king, but none of that mattered as he left his place at the table and embraced the man without a thought. Tumbles of snowy hair quivered with laughter as the shifter gripped him just as hard, murmuring something into his ear.

  “I know.” Dylan pulled back with a laugh. “That’s what I said, too.” With that he gestured proudly to the courtyard, like son seeking a father’s approval. “So what do you think?”

  “It’s wonderful,” Michael said approvingly, taking his sister’s hand as the two of them made their way to the high table. “I assume Katerina is the one responsible?”

  The smile froze on Dylan’s face. “...yes, that’s right.”

  The others pushed quickly to their feet, embracing Michael and Petra as well, but before Evie could do the same her chair was yanked back and she was lifted straight into the air.

  “You get lovelier every time I see you, my dear.”

  She twisted around with a grin, wrapping her arms around Michael’s neck.

  She’d once thought them both to be frail, not knowing any better. Then, in a playful bout of sparring, she saw Michael knock her father out cold. She never thought they were frail again.

  “You got here just in time.” She pulled back with a ridiculously serious expression for one so young. “Now you can make them let us fight in the arena.”

  The shifter chuckled, setting her down to greet each of the other children in turn. Ellanden and Asher got kisses on the forehead. Cosette was lifted and spun, giggling through the air.

  “And you—little one! You’ve gotten so tall!”

  When you were immortal, there was no rush to have children. Many people were surprised Kailas and Serafina had a baby as quickly as they had. But their precious daughter, only six years old, had already charmed five kingdoms. A princess of both the Fae and the High Kingdom as well.

  “My arms are long enough for a bow,” she said proudly, stretching them out so the shifter could see. Her eyes flickered to her cousin at the same time. “If anyone will let me...”

  Michael set her down with a laugh, reaching out to ruffle the prince’s hair.

  “I know you’re including your cousin, Landi. I wouldn’t hear otherwise.”

  “Of course,” Ellanden said sweetly. “Just the other day, I let her hold the target.”

  Fortunately a bugle sounded, and a heavily-robed man threw back his head with a shout.

  “Let the feast begin!”

  FOR THE NEXT FEW HOURS, the citizens of the realm gathered together for what had to be the most magnificent celebration the kingdoms had ever seen.

  The chefs had truly outdone themselves. There was food from every region. Spirits and wines from every city under the sun. The second one course was finished servants would enter with another, then another, then another after that. It wasn’t long before the tables were groaning under the weight of it all, but still the platters kept coming.

  When the sun slipped below the horizon and the bonfires were lit, the celebration kept going. In fact, things grew more festive the longer the night carried on. The laughter grew louder, the voices kept speaking on top of each other, and the stories grew more and more exaggerated.

  Evie suspected this had a great deal to do with the wine.

  Eventually, people got up and started wandering around. A trio of violinists emerged from nowhere and struck up a lively tune. The chairs were pushed aside. The people began to dance.

  “May I have the honor, Your Highness?”

  Evie looked up in surprise to see Thomas McCallen, the son of one of her mother’s knights, standing in a half-bow on the other side of the table. Ellanden glanced between them with a hidden grin; Asher leaned back in his chair, studying the boy closely.

  “Get up, Tom,” Evie whispered. “You know I hate all that.”

  The two had spent much of their childhood at the same castle. They’d sat under the same tutors, shared the same lunch. She was not ‘Your Highness’ to Tom McCallen.

  He shot a quick look towards her father, paling slightly in the warm light.

  “What do you expect?” he muttered. “You’re sitting at the royal table.” Dylan’s eyes drifted his way and he cleared his throat quickly. “If it pleases Your Highness to do me the honor—”

  “No, it does not please Her Highness,” Evie interrupted shortly, shooting him an exasperated look. “Why do you do this every feast day? You know I hate dancing.”

  He lifted his shoulders, fighting back a little blush. “Because every feast day, there’s a chance you’ll say yes.”

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She’d only been teasing. She hadn’t known there was a chance he was actually serious. All at once, she wished she’d said yes to the dance.

  “Tom, I—”

  “Guess I’ll try again at Christmas.”

  With that, he flashed a quick smile and vanished into the crowd—as quickly as his blushing cheeks and wounded pride would let them.

  “That was not very sporting of you,” Ellanden chided, throwing a wink at a trio of nymphs watching him from behind a tent. “You have to let them think they have a chance.”

  “You know, nymphs are immortal,” she answered coolly.

  “Yes, so?”

  “So at some point, aren’t you worried that you and your father will overlap?”

  The fae’s eyes shot back to the nymphs as a brand new expression settled on his face. A moment later, he forgot about them entirely—keeping his eyes locked firmly on his plate.

  “That was not very sporting of you either,” Asher said quietly, leaning closer so as not to be overheard. “Though I must admit—I full approve.”

  She flashed a grin, taking an extra moment to stare into his eyes. The friends could tease as much as they wanted. But they lived for these moments when they were reunited once more.

  “I really missed you,” she said softly. “This time...it was too long.”

  Asher nodded slowly, reaching down to squeeze her hand. “I missed you, too.”

  Ever since they were children, there was something innately calm about him. An unshakable steadiness that seemed
to resonate in his very bones. He was just as comfortable sitting at the royal table at a feast as he’d been reclining on her bed a few hours earlier, and as he’d been travelling nine days on horseback not long before that. As a notoriously spirited person herself, Evie took it as a personal challenge—constantly trying to get him to break.

  “You want to sneak back to the archery range?” she asked suddenly. “Best out of five?”

  There was a tap on her shoulder and she glanced up to see the king’s watchful eyes.

  “You want to remember your father has perfect hearing?” Dylan asked. “No archery until after the speeches. Then we’ll clear the field and I’ll challenge you myself.”

  With a look of excitement, she nodded quickly—glancing at the master of ceremonies and finding herself suddenly eager for the whole affair to be over. As Asher and Ellanden struck up a conversation behind her back she slid down in her chair, scribbling absentmindedly on her napkin.

  Three shall set out, though three shall not return

  To recover a stone from a land that won’t burn.

  Her hand moved of its own accord, setting the words in ink. There were so many, she was surprised she hadn’t forgotten some. But each one had burned itself into her mind.

  Long they shall travel, for deep does it dwell

  To bring to the land either heaven or hell.

  “Good evening, children. I trust you are enjoying the feast.”

  Evie looked up suddenly to see a strange man standing in front of her.

  Tall and rigid, with an oily voice and a smile that seemed painted on his face. She’d seen him from time to time in the halls of her mother’s court, but they’d never spoken until that day.

  “It’s wonderful,” she answered, remembering her manners. “And yourself?”

  He clasped his long fingers together, chuckling as if she’d made a joke.

  “Oh, I care not for the celebration itself—only for the people.” His eyes flickered greedily between her and Ellanden, resting a moment on each one. “Such beautiful people in such powerful positions. And you share a childhood friendship. How...sweet.”