Crowned A Traitor: A Hellish Fairytale

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Crowned A Traitor: A Hellish Fairytale Page 9

by Kate Callaghan


  “Mila, Frendall as my Father’s most trusted Commanders it would bring the King great joy to see a demonstration of your strength.”

  Without question, Frendall stepped forward, his eyes trained on Klara. “As you request, Heiress,” he said bowing, and no one in the room could dare question his loyalty. Mila hesitated only long enough for Klara to notice. “Anything for our King,” Mila bowed, offering no praise for Klara, a statement in itself.

  “Weapons?” The King asked, and Klara signaled for the Doomed.

  “Bring their weapons of choice,” she said. “Till submission,” Klara added before her Father could speak. Mila was Eve’s daughter, who knows what tricks she had up her conniving sleeve. Mila ripped out of her delicate lilac dress to reveal her slick black Commander uniform beneath.

  The small crowd gasped at her transformation, and Lucifer laughed. “Always be prepared,” Mila smiled to the delight of the crowd as her uniform molded to every inch of her lean body as she took after her mother.

  The guests parted way for the returning Doomed carrying Frendall’s sword and Mila’s bow and arrows.

  Close combat with a bow and arrow, this should be interesting. Mila and Frendall faced off and Lokey bowed to Lucifer waiting for permission to speak. “My dearest friend, you need not ask permission,” Father beamed and Lokey bowed deeply.

  “This should make matters more interesting,” Lokey said, slicing his scaled palm and dark pus oozed out.

  “You certainly know how to rile up a crowd,” the King laughed as Lokey circled Frendall and Mila.

  The pus dripped to the floor, weaving together a circle. A binding circle, they would be trapped together in a tight space rendering their weapons somewhat useless. Klara eyed the glowing ring. Lokey was more than a Higher Demon. He was a Warlock.

  Mila and Frendall tossed their weapons to the ground. Frendall was twice the build of Mila, while she took after her slight mother. Unease bit at Klara as the tight circle would work to Mila’s advantage, she was tiny but lethal.

  “Begin,” Klara ordered, and the guests moved back so not to obscure the King and Klara’s view. Lokey danced up the steps and stood at Klara’s side.

  “It has been some time since we have been in each other’s company,” Lokey said, and Klara tried to think back to their last encounter if there even was one. Higher Demons had great skill in trickery, especially one as ancient as Lokey.

  “Well, it’s always nice to be reacquainted with an old friend,” she said watching as the Commanders danced around each other and the crowd grew bored. “Quiet,” Lokey smiled, and Klara saw her Father’s eyes drift to the blood-red skies through the windows.

  Lokey cleared his throat as a hollow-eyed Higher Demon in an emerald suit growled for them to get a move on.

  With the lack of attention, Mila struck out, agile as a cat as she slashed her talons at Frendall, slicing through his Commander’s mark.

  “Speaking of old friends, how is Queen Lilith?” Lokey asked as Klara gripped the arm of the throne. Blood trickled down Frendall’s cheek and Klara relaxed as Frendall swept Mila’s leg out from under her.

  “I did not know the Lilith had friends,” she said, and Lokey placed a hand on his stomach and let out a strangled laugh.

  Frendall wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. For a brief second, his eyes flashed to Klara and then to Lokey at her side before Mila bounced back to her feet and snaked her way onto Frendall’s back. Her sharp nails dug deep into his neck until Frendall threw her over his shoulder and Mila flipped to her feet.

  “Maybe not a friend but we have made a deal or two from time to time,” Lokey whispered. Lilith was the last person Klara thought had made a deal with a Demon.

  Klara was about to respond, but the shouts of the bloodthirsty guests distracted her. Mila was quick, forcing Frendall to keep up but it was clear that his heavy blows were taking a toll on her stamina.

  “I will pass on my regards once I return to the Forest. I’m sure she will be delighted to hear from you.”

  Lokey clapped in awe as Frendall pinned Mila to the ground. Klara watched Mila twist and snatch a small blade from her boot.

  A loud grunt echoed around the room as the blade pierced Frendall’s waist, and he released his grip on Mila.

  “Like Lilith, if you should ever need a friend, do call on me, won’t you?” Klara felt Lokey’s peppermint breath against her cheek, but she could barely hear him as Mila flipped and straddled Frendall.

  Mila looked to Klara, her face inches from Frendall’s while her blade pressed against his throat. “So easily defeated,” Mila said to the reeling crowd. She brushed her lips against Frendall’s proclaiming victory and Klara clenched her fist so tight she feared her nails would draw blood.

  Distracted by the glory of the crowd, Frendall gripped her thighs and threw Mila from the circle. Her slight frame slid into the crowd of guests. The force of the circle’s enchantment unravelling knocked Mila unconscious, her showmanship cost her the fight. Klara remembered Lilith’s warning, a battle isn’t won until the field is coated in their blood or yours.

  Lilith? A deal? She went to speak to Lokey, but he was no longer at her side; instead, he had descended into the guests cheering for Frendall.

  Klara forced herself to maintain a neutral expression and returned her focus to the duel. Once she announced Frendall as the victor, the attention drifted back to gossip and venom.

  “Let there be music,” she ordered to silence the whispers from the King. The Doomed began to play as the guests clapped for the great Commander. Frendall straightened his tie while his hand went to his waist, concealing his wound.

  “What a twist of events,” Lucifer thrust his head back in hearty laughter. Two Doomed rushed in and quickly dropped to their knees and began scrubbing away the binding circle.

  “Excellent, just excellent. A triumphant way to end the evening,” Lucifer rose, and Frendall bowed deeply as did the room. Klara saw his attention move to Mila still in the corner of the room.

  “Take her to the infirmary,” Klara ordered and the Doomed scrubbing the floor rose quickly.

  “How kind of you,” Lucifer said, and Klara wasn’t sure if her empathy would go against her.

  The Doomed quickly dropped their cloths stained with Lokey’s blood and pus and went to Mila’s side. They picked Mila up, and the guests parted as the Doomed made their way to the door. To be seen like this will be a blow to Mila’s standing.

  Frendall moved through the guests as they congratulated him with a slap on the back. Klara saw him in the crowd, but her Father garnered her attention, “How shall we celebrate the rest of the evening?” Her Father whispered to her, and she could see the blood lust in his eyes. “Maybe a duel to the death?”

  “The day has been exhausting,” Klara said, placing her glass of untouched venom on the tray of a Doomed standing beside her. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I departed early.”

  “Yes, take some rest.” The King sounded disappointed, but Klara was afraid that if she remained, the night would unravel into chaos. The King descended the steps and threw himself into the marveling attention of his guests.

  The Demons bowed as she passed and the Doomed opened the doors wide as she escaped into the corridor. Around the corner and away from prying eyes, she rested her back against the wall and processed the night’s information. Abadan and Frendall, she felt sick at the thought of sharing blood with her first kiss all those years ago.

  Klara straightened up as a group of Doomed brought trays of whiskey and octopus hor d’ oeuvres to the guests.

  “I need snacks.” Klara shook off the disgust and ran a hand over her bare scalp.

  Her Father’s kitchen was half the size of the Queens and looked more like a kitchen from an old Victorian book that the King had shown her. He was obsessed with the 1800s. Famine, birth of communism, war, what wasn’t to love?

  The Queens’ kitchen was a mix of white marble and matching cabinets, while the King’
s contained grey cabinets and wooden countertops.

  She searched for treats the Queens wouldn’t dare let her have. As she closed the cabinet door, she jumped as Frendall stood beside her.

  “It’s not what you think,” he said, holding his injured side.

  “Tell me what I think?” She said, not paying any attention to his injury. He would heal quickly from such a minor wound. Before he had a chance to lie, she reached out and grabbed his arm and Frendall tried to shake her from his mind.

  “He isn’t your Father?” Klara asked, seeing another man in his mind, but the image was hazy. “Is he still alive?” Frendall shook his head, “We aren’t related, my Father wasn’t Human, but he isn’t the King.”

  “Why lie?” She caught a glimpse of the Port of Malum and the West Caves. His Father must have been a smuggler. “You have seen enough,” he said, backing away.

  Klara released her grip seeing the imprint her hand left on him. She didn’t even have time to ask before words poured from him.

  “Abadan was his advisor! He couldn’t have it get out that she was fraternizing with undesirables.” He started to pace.

  “And he also couldn’t risk losing a powerful ally,” Klara finished for him.

  “He took me in.”

  Klara knew her Father wouldn’t have wanted Abadan’s loyalty tested by the bond of a mother and a son, so he separated them.

  “The branding you saw was from my last escape attempt. I made it to the Forest, even to the caves but some Ogres caught me.” Klara wanted to tell him to take a breath, but he didn’t stop.

  “The plan all along has been for me to join the ranks.”

  “Why send Abadan to Malum?”

  “To punish her, keep her from me and who better to protect his Heir than his most powerful weapon. Plus, he had me to keep her in line, not that the High Queen has ever shown me a kindness.”

  “Protect, wouldn’t be the first word that comes to mind,” Klara said. “There is nothing else you are keeping for me?”

  Frendall hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Good.”

  Now that Klara had her answers, she remembered her snacks.

  “Where’s the pantry?” She asked as she walked through a set of doors where it used to be. She felt her stomach rumble, and Frendall followed her.

  “Left,” Frendall said as she went to take a right, remembering that would lead her to the dungeon. Klara locked eyes with a Doomed boy who couldn’t have been older than ten. He dropped the tray he was carrying and scampered away down the hall. Klara picked up the tray and brought it back to the kitchen.

  “You shouldn’t show them such leniency,” Frendall said. “They have all done something that landed them here.”

  “What could that boy have done?”

  “Butchered his baby sister in her sleep,” Frendall said, and her blood ran cold. He looked so innocent. “How long has he served?” She asked, and Frendall shrugged, “Maybe a hundred years.”

  “I doubt he is the same now,” she said, and Frendall tilted his head.

  “I would be driven to murder you if I had to serve the King for a hundred years.” Klara tried to ease the tension but Frendall frowned. The probability of them having to go against each other was too high to make such jokes.

  “I thought you were looking for snacks,” Frendall changed the subject, and she looked away from him and continued on her way to the pantry.

  The pantry opposite the kitchen was smaller than she remembered. The Doomed preparing ingredients for tomorrow’s dishes froze as they saw her. Before she had a chance to apologize for disturbing their work, they dismissed themselves.

  “God, I forgot how much good stuff there is down here,” Klara said.

  “Least we don’t worry about cavities.”

  “Was that a joke?” She asked, and he rolled his eyes.

  Klara looked at the walls lined with candies and foods from every Human country and every plane of existence, Human-produced or otherwise.

  The wall furthest from her had a sliding glass door and lock. Behind the casing, Klara eyed the brightly coloured earthly treats. Lucifer had a taste for Human snacks, a trait they both shared.

  “Want anything?” Klara called out as she snapped off the lock and looked to Frendall who stayed outside the open door. “What’s his is mine,” Klara smiled and received silence in reply. She saw the red packets of Tayto cheese and onion and grabbed a bag. Frendall’s favourite to steal when they would raid the pantry as children.

  Armed with treats, Frendall shook his head in dismay as she made her way back to the kitchen so the Doomed could return to their chores.

  “It’s not all for me,” she said, and tossed him the small bag of Tayto. He caught it, staring at the red packet before placing it in front of him.

  “Don’t worry, that body won’t go all soft after one bag,” the words escaped her before she could stop them. Frendall cocked an eyebrow, and his lips threatened a smile.

  “That wasn’t what I was thinking,” he said, and she ignored the glint in his eyes.

  “I haven’t had these in years,” Frendall said while Klara grabbed some sour patch kids from the centre of the table and a bottle of water. If a missing heart won’t kill me, dehydration will.

  “Well, eat up,” she said awkwardly, sitting beside him at the counter. The pull of her chair startled her as Frendall pulled her closer to him. On instinct, Klara reached for her missing axe.

  Only centimeters apart, she saw the confusion in his eyes. The fresh cut on his cheek had already sealed. Frendall’s eyes drifted to her lips, and she didn’t want to move. His arm slid around her waist, and the sensation both thrilled and scared her.

  “What are you doing?” Klara asked, but his lips brushed against hers, and she stilled. Light and tender, everything he wasn’t. Frendall pulled back, and she felt his grip on her waist loosen. Frendall stood abruptly, and she gripped his shirt and leaned forward.

  “What are you doing?” Frendall looked as startled as she felt, but she pressed her lips against his. This time he leaned into her, his lips firm and delicious against hers and she didn’t want it to end.

  This was different for their first awkward childish kiss. Klara released his shirt from her fists, and her hands found his chest. His calloused hands caught her wrists, and he broke away from her sharply.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We shouldn’t have…” Klara panted as Frendall paced the kitchen. “I knew it,” Frendall rested his hands on the counter, “that you felt more for me.”

  “Was that what this was? Proving a point?” Klara asked, hurt and confused. “Two kisses in one night, you certainly know your way around Hell,” Klara spat and went to the door, but Frendall blocked her path, his hands raised in submission.

  “Mila is nothing but a social climber, desperate for Lucifer’s favour.” Klara moved to the other side of the counter. “I would never lay a hand on her willingly,” Frendall said.

  “What you do in Hell is none of my business, I don’t think one stupid kiss binds us for eternity,” Klara regretted her words as his hands dropped to his side.

  “No, you wouldn’t. There is only one thing that occupies your mind.”

  Klara swallowed as he closed the distance between them. His hand brushed her cheek, and the touch of her skin forced the words from his lips.

  “I saw what you did to the Ghouls, the jewels concealed by the Crossroads Demon. All that chaos so you can escape to Kalos.” Klara felt her chest constrict.

  “What are you talking about?” she said and stepped back from his grasp.

  “I sensed you on Grimm’s path, followed you to the Beanstalk.”

  “How dare you follow me?” Klara asked, and Frendall laughed.

  “Our Heir is consorting with Crossroads Demons, and you lecture me?” Frendall ran his hand through his hair.

  “I wasn’t, and I didn’t kill them for jewels. They were smuggling Humans in the Forest.”

  “How
can I believe you?” Frendall asked. “Why else would you hide the gems and now so much talk of the border.”

  “Since your mind is made up, what was that? A goodbye kiss before you turn me over to the Queens and the King?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Why were you even sneaking around the Forest?” Klara asked, but he dodged her touch.

  “Are you planning on leaving?” He barked. “I have no idea what you are talking about? Hiding jewels isn’t a crime last time I checked.”

  “I can hear your heart racing. I know when you are lying to me.”

  “What business is it of yours?”

  “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do you know what the King would do to you if he knew what you’re planning?”

  Klara’s heart stilled, “Aren’t you tired of all this? The punishment, the distrust and paranoia. I want to live and not have to worry about every shadow that wants my inheritance.” Klara sat at the counter, placing her head in her hands.

  “Running away isn’t the answer, and even if you do, they will hunt you to the ends of the earth and any other realm or plane you dare to hide in,” Frendall’s chest rose and fell with each word. “Lucifer will make me hunt you to the ends of the earth.”

  A silence filled the kitchen, “You don’t need to concern yourself.”

  “You think the Fae Queen will welcome the Heir of Hell warmly.”

  “I expect nothing from her, and I won’t be discovered,” Klara rose to touch his arm and he moved back.

  “See you have secrets you don’t want told,” Klara argued her point, and he grabbed her hand and placed it on his cheek. “I don’t want you dead, and I don’t need your sight to tell you that.”

  Frendall brought her to him, and Klara felt the rumble in his chest as he spoke. “Would I prefer to be somewhere, something else? Yes, but my fate is to serve, and yours is to rule.”

 

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