The Blood King - Chapter Eleven (Patreon)

Nymira

I often awaken before everyone in this castle. It’s my internal clock. Peyra and I were always up long before sunrise, ensuring we got as far as we needed to without being spotted. But now, I lie in a bed, in the dark, alone. And the feeling of being alone weighs on me.

It’s crippling.

I close my eyes, letting my tears silently fall. I won’t let these strangers see me cry. I won’t let them see me weak. But when I am alone like this, I cannot stop myself. I pull in a shuddering breath, sitting up in the bed. For nights, I have been tossing and turning in it, my heart jumping each time I roll over for fear I will be swallowed. I spent most of my life sleeping in a wagon or on the ground. This “hospitality” is more unnerving than it is helpful.

Everything about this place is foreign to me. But nothing is more foreign than the king who refuses to let me see his face. I am suddenly reminded of his physique from behind as he left me in those gardens. The way he moved—the way he spoke. I’ve never felt more intimidated in my life. But I can never let him know how much he intimidates me. To do so would be suicide, as he has made it very clear how he feels about my existence.

It is dependent upon his mood.

I pull in a deep breath to relax myself as the need to escape this room overcomes me. Lying here in the darkness only deepens the sadness that I feel. I can tell by the way that my eyes have adjusted that my strength has almost returned. And while it is a temporary joy for me, I am cautious about the lack of control that might come with it. It is what started all of this in the first place.

I quickly throw back the blankets, shifting over the edge of the bed to stand. If I remain in bed any longer, I will go crazy. I make sure to wipe my eyes before making my way to the door, hesitating as I reach for the knob. I continue to study the door, curious if the guards who usually stand watch are there this early. And whether they would consider my desire to leave the room an escape attempt. After what happened in the gardens, I need to be more cautious of my actions, especially when they are perceived as hostile almost immediately.

I slowly place my hand on the latch, pressing until I hear the ‘click’ before pushing open the door. I expect to be rushed with swords at my face with demands as to where I am going, but to my shock, the hall is empty.

“Ha!” I laugh, looking in both directions to ensure my eyes are not deceiving me. The hall is empty of the guards. The sconces are still lit, but other than that, no servants at least roam nearby. I’ve been left completely alone.

I take a small step into the hall, testing whether or not this is real. But nothing happens, so I take another step. And before I know it, I am moving away from the bedroom I’ve been staying in before I go insane.

The halls remain silent. I hear none of the usual sounds that accompany the castle. No servants working, and none of the king’s men moving either. I’m curious if this is a test—if everyone was removed to see what I would do. But I am not desperate enough to attempt an escape after my encounter with the king yesterday.

He is clearly an Ancient, Caius’s explanation as to why he didn’t stop me from jumping weighing on me. Yet this king has no problems restraining me when he feels it is necessary. Has the war among Ancient’s finally come to an end? Is that why the humans felt they could bring an ancient as an offering? Because the war is no more, and humans want favor from its victors?

I shake my head as the thought crosses my mind. It can’t be. Peyra would have heard something while she was in the markets. She wouldn’t have kept me hidden if she knew we could go in search of my people—unless her oath prevented her from doing so. She died before she could reveal anything to me beyond the oath that she took, making me wonder if she herself may not have been human.

I tense, pulling myself from my thoughts when I realize I’ve wandered into a foreign part of the castle. The hallway has opened up, the ceiling is high and vaulted at an angle that places different shapes in its architecture. As I come into the opening, I notice the wooden banister that leads to the winding stairs. And the glass windows that surround the opening.

I make sure to scan my surroundings before stepping closer to the glass, taking in our surroundings. The kingdom looked so big on the way in, but it looks even more massive from the center. It spans in each direction, the little lights that have been lit on each home signifying a life. I feel a tinge of bitterness in my chest at the lives that live beyond these walls—beyond the forests, unbothered by this war.

Meanwhile, I spent my entire life in hiding.

“It’s disgusting, isn’t it?” I tense, ready to turn around at the sound of the voice when it stops me.

“Ah-ah-ah…you know the rule,” the king says.

His voice ripples off the domed ceiling, crawling over my flesh with dominance. I force myself to fight the shiver threatening me. He is being intimidating on purpose, and I’ve already sworn that I will not show weakness in his presence.

“What are you referring to?” I ask, placing my hands against the wooden ledge as I focus on the homes in the distance. I hear his slow footsteps approach. The closer they get, the warmer my skin feels. I’ve come to associate this feeling with his presence, even though we’ve only spoken a few times briefly.

“The rate at which they’ve grown,” he says as his presence settles behind me.

His reflection slowly appears in the glass, but it only appears as a shadow, with no clear vision of his face. There isn’t enough light for him to reflect properly, the sunset maybe an hour away.

“They…you mean humans?” I ask.

He’s silent, as if thinking about his answer.

“Yes.” With his answer comes a devastating aura. It’s heavy, weighing me down. My fingers tremble, and I feel a chill settling in my chest as my body recognizes a threat. But I force it down, gripping the banister for strength.

“And yet you rule over them by inhabiting their king’s castle,” I say.

He chuckles. “Rule over them? What makes you think I rule them?” he asks.

“The men who brought me here as an offering—”

“Acted of their own accord. I do not rule these creatures. They only pray that my inhabiting this place means I will not turn my wrath upon them,” he says.

His words hint at more about who he is. He is someone powerful and has no reservations about revealing that to me. He is also someone who took over this kingdom with no intention of ruling it, leaving these people in a terrifying state of limbo. I could see it in their expressions as I was carted towards the castle with my hands bound. None of them knew what my presence would mean for their futures.

“Maybe so. But your inhabiting this place has also made them think that capturing me and killing someone close to me would appease you,” I say.

He chuckles. “Maybe it does.”

Anger pools in my blood, and I’m turning to face him before I can remember the rule he is hellbent on having.

“How dare you—ngh!” My body is wrenched at an uncomfortable angle as he grips my wrist, twisting my arm behind my back. Before I know it, my face is flush against the wall and I feel the heated press of him against my back as he holds me firm. The room is suddenly much warmer, the heat almost scorching as I struggle. His hand presses against my face, holding me down, and I can only stare at the empty hallway I was just walking through as his lips hover near my ears.

“Remember the rule…,” he growls.

His voice is accompanied by low vibrations that ripple over the walls, while his hands heat up against my face. I gasp, tears springing into my eyes as my body panics. It’s too much—too hot. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, biting until blood draws. Anything to not reveal to him how scared I am. I hold my whimpers, and I still my body. But when a single tear rolls down my cheek, he releases me.

My legs can’t hold me up from his sudden departure, and I collapse. My ears ring from the blood rushing through them as my vision blurs, and as I try to focus on my fingers, I realize that I can’t. My heart is beating too fast, my body reacting instinctively to the powerful presence.

Silence settles over us as I catch my breath, wiping the blood from my bottom lip. He doesn’t move—doesn’t speak. It allows me to hear more than just his breathing. It allows me to hear his heart as my strength slowly continues its return.

It beats steadily.

“She raised me. She was the only person in this world to risk her life for me. She didn’t deserve to die the way she did. Her death should not please you. You have no idea, the type of person she was,” I hiss.

“But I do. She was a traitor to us all. She harbored an Ikniri. The worst of the Ancients. The ones who have been outlawed from this world because of their misdeeds. If she took you in, knowing what your people did to this world, her death didn’t come soon enough,” he says.

His words sting. But I swallow my tears. I swallow the pain, laughing.

“And what are you doing now, Your Majesty? Are you not harboring someone who has been outlawed from this world? Do you now deserve the same fate?” I ask.

He’s silent. “I am offering you mercy—”

“That is exactly what she did!” I shout, my fist smashing into the marbled floor. It cracks slightly beneath my strength.

“Kill me now and be done with it. I have no care for your hateful words when you know nothing! You know nothing of my life…of what I’ve lost. You have no right to call this mercy; it is torture. She is the only one who has ever offered me mercy. You are just enjoying my suffering,” I hiss.

The tears burn—they sting, blurring my vision. But I will not let them fall. I keep my eyes focused on my fist, my fingertips turning white from how tight I grip my fist. My heart jumps when I notice the underside of my fist, right in the crack that I made.

Ice has formed.

I tense, pulling my fist away when suddenly a dark smog surrounds me. I don’t have a chance to hold my breath, my lungs inhaling it instantly as I gasp. It burns, but it also makes me feel heavy and sluggish. My head pounds, and I can barely hold myself up as my eyes roll back, and I am left unconscious.

* * * * *

Cassian

The Ikniri remains unconscious in my arms as I carry her back to her room. Her body temperature is much cooler than it was on her first day here, but still is much too close to that of a human’s than her own kind.

I try to keep my eyes ahead as I carry her, but the harder I try, the harder it is to remain steadfast in that decision. I release an irritated breath, looking down at her. Her hair is wild from sleep, falling into her face. But not enough to cover the snowy color of her brows and lashes.

Her lips are full, and slightly parted as she breathes deeply, easily succumbing to my hedon. One of the first things her people teach their young is how to ward off all attacks of each Ancient. Especially hedon. She wasn’t even aware of its presence. She is the sad remnant of her once-proud people.

It brings me joy to see.

Maybe she was right. Maybe I am giving in to the desire to see her suffer. But just as I think it, I recall the opposition of her mind and body as I held her down. Her body showed no signs of fear. Even her scent remained unchanged as I taunted her with the rise of my body heat. I focus my attention on the smear of blood on her bottom lip, making me smile.

She is stubborn. She will not bend the knee or show weakness. She may not have been raised among her kind, but she is an Ikniri in spirit.

I look away from her face to her bare arms. It’s unnerving seeing an Ikniri without any markings. It’s never been heard of for any Ancient. Our markings are a piece of our existence. We are not Ancients without them.

I look up as the rush of footsteps approaches.

My men who were to stand guard round the corner with panicked expressions on their faces, halting as soon as they see me.

“Y-your Majesty—”

I silence them with a look, ignoring their bows as I pass by with the Ikniri in my arms. They know they have made a huge mistake in leaving her unattended. Luckily, I came across her before anyone else could. My mind shifts to the moment I discovered her on the stairs. Even if she has no markings, she is still clearly an Ikniri. Standing there with her hair that rivals the color of the moon splayed wildly around her, looking through the glass windows with her transparent nightgown on…she has no idea of the customs of the world, let alone her own.

It does disturb me that my initial reaction wasn’t to attack, but to stare.

I note that Caius is waiting at her door as I round the corner, his eyes widening when he sees her with me. He quickly bows.

“I told them not to leave her door—”

“It does not matter. She has proven time and time again that she is not a threat. She is merely a frightened child in a woman’s body,” I say in irritation.

Caius remains silent as he follows me into the room. I lay her gently on the bed, unable to tear my gaze away from her for some reason. A thin layer of frost has appeared on her lashes, reminding me of the tears she cried for the woman who raised her.

“Have we burned the clothes she came in with yet?” I ask.

“No, we are still trying to determine the location of the residue left behind,” he says.

“When you finish, give her back the cloak,” I say.

Caius is silent for a moment.

“Cassian—”

“Just do as I say.”