Decoy
Page 20
*****
Everything felt out of place.
Nothing made sense. What kind of king held a coronation and a sparring match in the halls of a prison and fled back into the city?
Again he found himself in a rented room at a cheap tavern, lying on his cot, his heart beating fast. A profound pain in his chest slowly receded. For a brief moment as he looked at his hand, he could have sworn he saw long claws instead of fingernails. It was hard to tell from the dream-like surroundings.
The image of his Queen flashed back into his mind, and suddenly all the details of the room snapped back into focus. He wore the finest silks, his royal robe draped over a chair on the other side of the room. "Must win the hearts of the people first," she whispered. "Then we can rule from the castle and present you to your friends as king. Won’t that be nice?"
"No," Melshek said aloud. "I want to see the—"
Immense power slammed into his mind and a new kind of pain in his chest twisted fiercely. "This is the power you wished for!" she whispered viciously. "This is the power to be king! It will be used as I deem necessary."
Melshek could barely breath, his mind reeling as he tried to comprehend the dream turned into a nightmare.
"Of course," he said aloud, relenting to the power assaulting his mind. "As long as in the end I am king."
"Of course," she cooed softly, like an abusive mother comforting her child in between beatings.
Chapter 17