The Celestial King

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The Celestial King Page 16

by L Ward


  Gerard shot him another look. “Quiet yourself, boy!”

  “Looks like they might’ve used some of the specific locations to cause as much devastation as possible if something went wrong. That area is populated with a lot of council members and politicians. They could in theory have detonated them at any point,” Will continued, hands behind his back; ignoring his father.

  Evan glanced quickly to Gerard who was red and fuming. “What’s the death toll?”

  “Not sure yet, but twenty are confirmed dead and many more injured. It’s actually lucky they were destroyed and not detonated because there were hundreds of them and they could’ve easily wiped out masses of the population. This has put a stop to it all,” said Will, face stern.

  “Learn your place!” Gerard snapped and shoved Will forcefully out of the way. He banged his hip on the lobby table rattling the enormous vase of rainbow daffodils and wincing in pain.

  “I’d like a word with Will alone,” the words escaped him, and he met Gerard’s piercing gaze.

  “I’m a more senior member of Council. With all respect, Your Majesty, these matters are best discussed with me; someone with a lot more experience of these matters than my lazy kid,” Gerard said coldly, refusing to break the gaze.

  Evan smiled watching the air around Gerard spark and crackle with startlingly evil shades of orange and furious red. Remembering Nath’s trust he said, “perhaps you should learn to value him more and you’d see he’s a solid worker.”

  Surprise struck Will’s handsome face and he cleared his throat. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  “The King will see you in the morning,” said Evan.

  Gerard resentfully bowed. “Of course, Your Majesty.” He shot Will a furious look, the atmosphere splintered with magic and stank of night fires, and left the chambers.

  Will was staring at him in something close to bewilderment and followed him through to the fireplace. Flames popped from the logs as soon as Will sat down and bathed them in warmth. “I think we avoided a potential disaster,” he said at once.

  “Why have we only just found out about it now?” Evan asked, massaging his forehead.

  “It wasn’t the rifts themselves what did it. It looks like an aftermath curse,” he continued, accepting a glass of whiskey.

  “Then why put it on so few of them?”

  “Maybe a warning,” said Will. Their eyes locked and he took a biting sip. “We have to be careful in case they’ve rigged anything else.”

  “But it was still a success, wasn’t it?” He knew he sounded worried.

  “It’s the biggest success we could’ve managed,” said Will, eyes wide. “We’re lucky we didn’t lose half the nation, but it wasn’t our fault.”

  “How not? We all have blood on our hands. Each of us did something to break those rifts!” Shock cascaded like ice water over him and he drained his drink, wincing at the breath-robbing burn.

  “Because they were on the brink of collapse anyway,” Will’s eyes softened to puddles of chocolate. “The aftermath curse triggered much later than normal.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was manually triggered by the warlock who created the rifts: Artemis.”

  Evan swallowed and his stomach turned threatening to spill the pungent drink all over his trousers. “Retaliation?”

  “Yep.”

  He felt sick. He was going to be sick. Evan sucked a humongous breath and poured another drink with shaky fingers. Why did news have to be so bittersweet? There was always a catch, always a threat, and always an ulterior motive in this place.

  The flames rose higher, brighter.

  “The question everyone will ask in the morning is: when will the palace launch another attack?” Will downed another drink and searched Evan’s eyes. “You’re acting Regent while Nath’s under the effects of his curse, what do you want to do?”

  Evan hated being put on the spot. He hated the pressure and the unreadable way Will stared at him, lounging in the chair like it was his own. Asking Will’s advice wasn’t an option and he had to think on Nath’s words and desires. “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “So if you want to make a statement on Nath’s behalf you’d better get going so it hits the papers by morning, unless you want to rouse the nation…”

  Evan’s eyes widened. “No! I’ll make a statement,” he got up and dispatched a spellogram asking for any journalist besides Mr Snaith to meet him immediately in a downstairs parlour. “You’re coming with me.”

  Will frowned.

  It was the first time Evan had to act on his title without Nath and he hoped to the gods that he was making the right choice.

  They entered the parlour and Will ignited a cosy fire. Tiredness was a thing of the past, and the moment he sat down the journalist rapped the door and bowed to him deeply. The poor guy had thrown his blazer over his pyjama shirt.

  “Have a seat,” said Evan.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty,” he smiled nervously. “And Sir William Starstone.”

  Will didn’t smile.

  “Thanks for coming this late. As Regent I want to make a statement about the devastation of Islington and issue a public apology,” said Evan. He clamped his hands together to stop them from shaking.

  ∞∞∞

  “Thank the gods for gifting me with you,” Nath smiled when he was back to himself in the morning. “After so many years of suffering I’m pain free.”

  Evan couldn’t help but smile. He helped Nath to their room before he broke the news and watched his jaw hit the floor. “The paper will be here any minute.”

  Nath’s was a picture of calm as he eased himself into a comfortable chair dressed in jogging bottoms and a hoodie.

  Isabelle brought breakfast on gleaming platters, and after a mostly sleepless night, Evan couldn’t stop himself from devouring bacon like he’d never see food again. Nath sipped his tea and confronted the headlines.

  Aftermath Curse Devastation: Palace Issues Immediate Apology.

  While the nation waits with baited breath for a resolution to the monstrous crimes of the Dead Country rebels, our newly crowned Prince issued a public statement in the wee hours of this morning. “We are shocked and deeply saddened by this news. Our sources stated this was a triggered attack in retaliation for the destruction of the rifts. These attacks are unacceptable and won’t go unpunished,” said Prince Evan, speaking on behalf of our moonlight King. As the country settles over an uneasy breakfast, we all wonder when the palace will react. Experts have questioned the lack of preparation on this matter and wonder when the King will reinstate a new London Council.

  “Experts,” Nath snorted. “More like opinionated buzzards.”

  Evan smiled weakly and scanned the rest of the article, palms prickling with sweat.

  “I’m proud of you, Evan,” he smiled, resting the paper down, not interested in reading more about his supposed incompetency. “You acted appropriately even if you said little, which I’m glad you did.”

  “Will advised me to do it,” he held up his hands and watched Nath’s dimples appear. “I didn’t expect a summons.”

  “I trust you to handle being Regent on each full moon until one of us dies,” said Nath.

  Evan started to laugh and couldn’t stop. The fireplace crackled and magic drifted in powdered silver from the ceiling. Nath’s laugh was charming and his eyes tired. “You look like you could do with some sleep.”

  Nath’s response was a yawn. “I’ve duties to attend. The public will forgive me even less if they believe I’m lounging in bed while their friends and family remain injured or deceased.”

  “Need me to have anything set up?”

  “You’ve done enough,” he said softly, and dragged a slash of paper across the breakfast table. “If anyone should take a break from working after last night it’s you, Evan.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll go to the meetings and interviews with you, it’s important you have me anyway,
right?”

  “Of course it does but not at the expense of your mental or physical health.”

  Evan laughed again, this time in disbelief. “Not at the expense of yours either. I’m the doctor. Trust me when I say I’m fine, even finer if I can get an early night.”

  “Then I give you my word. No matter what, tonight you’re excused from duty whenever you wish,” said Nath. “Send for treats and eat them in bed.”

  Evan’s eyes were shooting stars. “Alright, sounds like a plan.”

  ∞∞∞

  After breakfast Evan found himself in a heated Privy Council meeting where Gerard furiously blamed the lack of decisive action against the warlocks and raged of the deaths of dozens of civilians mauled by werewolves last night.

  The horror was too much so soon after breakfast and Evan’s stomach bubbled like a searing puke cauldron.

  “And now what are we faced with?” Gerard demanded. “This is beyond ridiculous. We’ve got to put an end to that bill and make sure the werewolves can never cross into our country again.”

  There was a resounding silence and Evan took a moment to survey all six members of Council cringe in various ways, their eyes darting to the King.

  “Trust my word when I say the evil will be eliminated or banished to the darkest reaches of Hell, but innocents and the faithful will be welcomed with open arms,” said Nathaniel.

  Gerard’s gaze became stony. “How are you going to do it, Your Majesty?”

  “There’s little anyone can do at this precise time, but we’ve another twenty-nine days before they pose serious risk again. At the least it gives us time to prepare and protect.”

  “Sounds like an advert for condoms,” said Evan. The entire Council stared and he felt the iciness of anxiety spread through his system.

  Sir Alvarez emitted a low chuckle, blue eyes shining boyishly. Evan could tell Sir Alvarez would fit in well at this modern court.

  Nath was the second to crack, then Will and then Evan himself. Nobody else looked impressed but it felt good to laugh even if he’d made himself look exceptionally stupid.

  Gerard pursed his lips, glaring at Nathaniel.

  “All joking aside, we’re to plan our next course of action. Where are the lost comrades?” said Nath, surveying the Council members.

  “They’ll be here any minute. The medics will check them over and they’ll be brought straight to you, Your Majesty,” said Sir Alvarez.

  “Good.”

  “What about our next movement?” Gerard demanded.

  Nath glanced at him and ran his fingers through his hair. “We will recall as many soldiers as we can spare and prepare for an attack in two months. This attack will be full-scale and won’t cease until the city is reclaimed, London will be salvaged and the Dead Country shall revert to Wales once more.”

  They were all staring at the King with marked respect and astonishment. Gerard glittered with flames and Will looked close to worried. Evan knew this was a game. Nath was handing out Monopoly money as he counted his real notes in their private chamber every evening. He had to remain calm and do as Nath requested, observe for signs of fragility, and keep the truth under guard.

  A knock at the door announced their comrades looking exhausted and tattered but otherwise in great spirits. Evan was on his feet at once.

  “We’re fine, Your Majesty, we’re lucky to be here alive,” said Narelia, eyes wide. “When we woke we couldn’t remember a thing; we could barely walk.”

  Nath’s eyes were full of concern as he invited them to sit about the fireplace and sent for their breakfast.

  “Officer Callum you should rest,” said Evan.

  “These old bones have seen me through many a battle, and now a second war,” he said, eyes sparkling brilliantly. “I’m not one to worry about, Your Majesty.”

  ∞∞∞

  By lunchtime Evan had declared Nathaniel bedridden for a minimum of six hours when he was reading through a stack of papers and his face hit the desk. Evan healed his bruised nose and personally saw him tucked into bed. He was exhausted, hungry and a thousand things to do swam before his eyes, so he headed to his office to be accosted individually by every member of the Privy Council. Messengers delivered more news of public disturbances and the PNT clinics were becoming overrun with survivors of the attacks fearing lycanthropy.

  He tried to ignore the teetering stack of dog shit newspapers and magazines pointing fingers and blaming the King for the werewolves, the rise of the rebellion and even accusing him of underhandedly helping the warlocks form a dark reign. That’s why he let Edinburgh fall, that’s why he’s so happy to integrate the monsters and that’s why he refused to follow in Elijah’s footsteps and rule with an iron fist and a cheery smile.

  When the door knocked again shortly before four, Evan groaned and forced himself to sit upright. What now?

  “Hey, Ev? I think you sent me the wrong note,” she said holding a singed spellogram he’d posted to Cass on his five minute lunch break hours ago.

  He sighed. “Sorry. I’m so fucking tired today I mixed you up.”

  “No worries, but take my advice, bro, don’t waste time on people that don’t give a damn about who they hurt,” she said, sliding into the chair opposite.

  Evan noticed she was actually starting to look pregnant and he smiled, somewhat with sympathy. He couldn’t imagine how hard this was and here she was trying to make the best of it. “Just thought I’d try one last time to see if she’d come back to uni or just have a chat. She was the first friend I made here.”

  Kalani’s smiled sweetly and said, “I hear there’re a handful of students planning to return.”

  Evan looked up. “You’re having a laugh.”

  “No! They think it’s safer in the palace and being in the King’s good graces will protect their families.”

  “It’s not untrue. Nath cares deeply for the public and especially his allies,” Evan said softly. Light cascaded through his windows casting rain ripples all over his office like a shroom trip. “It’s a shame people don’t see the kindness in him.”

  “Every media outlet I read or watch has something to say about him and it’s usually critical,” said Kalani, playing with a micro telescope on the edge of his desk. “But they don’t know him like you do, or see how he treats people every day. They call him a monster, a disappointment and a pervert.”

  Evan rolled his eyes. “He can’t even be a normal nineteen-year-old for five minutes without someone criticising him and saying he should be chained to his desk day and night.”

  “And not shagging you.”

  He coloured up and averted his eyes. “Until this war is won the people won’t let up and move on, and if he fails then he’s not only failed his country and family, but all werewolves and their chance of ever living humane lives.”

  Kalani’s smile was sad and she flicked the telescope watching it spin nauseating circles. “I’m amazed at how well you cope with this. You used to struggle to get out of bed in the morning and now you’re helping run a country.”

  “I have a feeling there’s a but in this and not just any kind of but, but a huge one,” said Evan.

  “I’m scared for you, Ev. You went on a mission; you could have died and that would be it. I’d no longer be a twin and you’d be just a name in a book.”

  Evan sighed, shoulders sagging. The rain shower had become a storm and he moved round to hug his sister. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly.

  She hugged back. “It’s scary how things change.”

  “We’re not kids any more, Kalani,” said Evan.

  “We’re not,” she laughed and he laughed too. “It’s so weird to think of us as adults. I got my job and you got your invite; we didn’t think things would be so different back then and it was only a year ago.”

  “Then you moved out.”

  “Then you married a Prince.”

  They laughed again.

  “I’d better get going. I’ve got work to do for th
e team so I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye, K.”

  Chapter 25

  Will

  “Your apartments are beautiful,” said Dante as Will took him through to his private parlour on Friday evening. He stopped to take in Will’s gleaming marble surfaces and gilded paintings with more worth than a five bedroom house.

  The fire crackled a startling shade of amber and the window was ajar permitting a whiff of fresh rainstorm. Will pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit. It’d been a long time since he’d taken a guy to dinner, that guy being Nath. “Preference on your drink?”

  “Wine is perfect, thank you.”

  Will popped the cork with a flick of his finger and poured two level glasses of vintage elf-brewed velvet. “This to your taste?”

  Dante sampled it, twisting the crystal glass this way and that watching beams of light dance about the room. “Delicious. Rich but not overpowering. I like your taste.”

  “Classic and just a little spicy,” said Will.

  Christopher, one of his personal servants, served dinner on delicate china while Will took it upon himself to light the dozens of candles dotted about the room one by one with a brilliant pop. Christopher then left with a bow and they were alone.

  Dante’s smile sent tingles through the pit of his belly.

  “Mam’s been testing my Spanish. Says it’s been years since she spoke it herself.”

  Dante’s surprise was evident. “But of course you’ll be good, you have an excellent teacher.”

  Will laughed and drank some more. Conversation turned to Dante’s new studies and tutors and how he hoped to make a name for himself, detached from his father’s.

  “And what are you to do?”

  “I wasn’t originally planning on joining the Privy Council as an official member, but life has a funny way of choosing paths for ya. Turns out I’m not half bad at it and I really enjoy it. The money is good, even though I don’t need it,” he said smoothly.

  Dante laughed. “It would be an insult to call your family’s businesses an empire.”

 

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