By the time she made it back to the castle, it was getting close to dawn and only the servants were about. They paid little attention to her. Given the oddities of those in the castle, it was best to keep your attention to yourself. Once she was sure she was safe, she dropped the glamour back to the human version of herself. She was at least somewhat known there; they wouldn't think it that odd that she was around.
Taking the square of fabric she had purchased, she draped it over her head like a shawl, and tried to smooth out the creases of her skirt before she slipped inside the front doors of the castle. She paused when she spotted the two vampires from the nightmare dinner.
They seemed just as surprised to see her as she was to see them, and they did not try to greet her. They simply watched her for a long moment while she decided what to do. She offered them a faint smile and slipped away, relieved when they did not try to follow her. As attractive as they were, vampires creeped her out. They were so still and quiet and there was the added issue of her blood being highly addictive.
It was not just her blood; it was fae blood that they would become addicted to with even a single drop. It was said to be the magic that the blood possessed, something the vampires themselves lacked. They were only modified humans.
They were given incredible strength and stamina that made them ageless and enhanced their physical attributes. They never needed to sleep, never needed to eat, and were, in essence, perfect. But they had no magic and when they got a first taste of it, that was the end of their freedom, they would be trapped for the rest of eternity being unable to sustain their bodies on human blood. They would only be able to drink from that same fae.
Heading back to her rooms, she took a long bath and settled herself on the balcony to watch the sunrise over the city, her skin and mind buzzing with the energy of her kill.
She had killed for Epharis without really stopping to think about what that might mean for her and her life in the city.
She was now the royal assassin to the Prince Epharis of Ayathian. The thought made her lips turn down into a frown before she let out a slow breath. Well, if she was going to do anything in that city, it might as well be something she was good at.
***
The news of the dead lord spread like wildfire through the court and it seemed as though everyone was aware of it by lunch time. When she arrived in the throne room, Epharis was nowhere to be seen. She was not bothered, it meant she did not have to deal with him, and any time without his presence was a good time.
Loitering in the hall on her own, she watched a small group of young men as they eyed her. They tried to get closer without making it obvious. Their attempts to flirt silently with her from several paces away made her want to laugh. Then something else caught her eye. Someone with dark skin and black hair moved through the crowd, talking with a small number of other mythical beings who seemed pleased to see him.
Seeing her, he made a beeline for her. He was beside her before she could decide if she wanted to run away or punch him.
"My Lord," she said coolly, looking him over in his smart black suit and tall boots.
"Lady Etani, I see you have enchanted my brother with your fae magic," he said in an accusatory, almost angry voice.
"I have no intentions of enchanting anyone, least of all your brother. I am grateful for his kindness; however, I have no interest in a mate." Her eyes met his calmly while he glowered at her and she could not help but think that she had insulted him in some way.
"In this world, it is not always the choice of the woman," he growled, unreasonably angry at her.
What did that mean? 'It was not always the choice of the woman?' Of course it was her choice; she was not going to let a man touch her whom she did not want to touch her.
As she pondered the oddity of the human world and its rules, the drow stalked away. She was left alone once more, fascinated by him. He was so easy to anger and then he would simply leave.
Dismissing the strange drow, her attention was caught by a flurry of movement near the throne as a group of men barged their way forward, the one in the lead looking particularly furious.
"You had him killed!" the leading man screamed, and the crowd parted to give him access to the throne. "It's always the same with you monsters! You kill what you cannot control!" The man was short, with a round belly and very little hair. He was dressed in rich blue fabrics and had a round, very red face.
Heading in the direction of the screaming man, she slipped through the crowd until she came to a stop a few feet behind him. She was captivated by the accusations, and amused by the fact that he was accusing the wrong brother.
"I had no reason to kill Lord Carriger. He brought in many resources to the city on which we rely." The tired-looking king replied, slouching in his oversized throne and looking moody.
"Liar! You only want to put more of your freaks in power!" The balding man bellowed. "You and your monsters do not belong in this world! You should all be exterminated!"
A shock went through the crowd and the king's brows drew together. Etani's gaze lowered, watching as the man reached to his belt for a long knife. It did not matter if he was going to use it or not, he had made threats and was now armed; he was dangerous and irrational.
She moved forward without thinking about it. People screamed as the guards attempted to shove them aside in an effort to defend the king. Alaric had not moved, his eyes lifted at her movement and locked on her. He was unafraid of the human, but curious about her.
Three steps put her behind the man, and she drove her heel into the back of the man's knee, dropping him with a cry of pain. Reaching out, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist that held the knife while her free hand went up around his throat. With one foot pressing down on the back of his calf, she kept him easily on his knees and she jerked his head up straight, her nails a very prominent threat to him.
It had taken only a second. The man yelled in pain as her nails left a trickle of blood rolling down his flesh.
Without a word, she lifted her gaze to the king, her expression impassive. The question hung between them, neither needing to speak in order to communicate.
The man blubbered below her, the knife clattering to the floor and he pleaded for his life, begging her and the king for his release.
"Why should I spare you?" the king asked slowly, finally tearing his eyes from Etani's to look down at the man. The man had not come alone, but it seemed that none of his companions were overly keen to try to help him. "You threatened the crown, a crime punishable by death. Not only that, but you also threatened a large number of my people." His voice was calm, almost bored.
"Your Majesty, please! I never intended for this to get out of hand!" he squealed.
"But I am a monster, am I not? Do I not deserve to be killed?"
The man gasped as the nails bit deeper and blood began to trickle freely, staining the front of his shirt.
"An example will be made of you. No zealots are welcome in my city," he said calmly and his eyes lifted to meet hers, his head dipping once in a nod.
She did not hesitate for a second. In an instant she moved, her body turning to face the opposite direction. Her foot stamped down again on his leg to make him howl in agony; arching herself back, her arms reached over her shoulder and she grasped the head of the man. Leaning forward again and straining her back against the movement, the man's body was pulled tight, his back arching over hers and his neck seemed to stretch impossibly far, and then her nails dug in. Giving a jerk the head ripped free and blood splashed the floor and her clothing.
Turning back to hear the body thump to the marble floor, she grasped the head by the straggling hairs that clung to his scalp, holding it out to the king.
The king remained silent, staring down at the bloody sight before him. The bloodied woman who had killed on command without so much as a blink. She felt the blood running down the side of her face and neck, soaking her hair and the shoulder of her dress.
The room was so silent that the sound of blood dripping from the stump of the man's neck down into the pool that spread around him was incredibly loud.
***
The king turned his head away, the sight before him displeasing him. A second later, the head hit the ground with a thump. The traitors were not worth his attention; they belonged in the dirt. Servants hustled to clean away the mess, and she left the hall to get cleaned up. Not a single courtier spoke for the rest of the day. Most were not human, and it was not uncommon for a death to happen in a place like this, but it was rarely that quick and the scene had left them all rattled.
She was glad that at the time, she had appeared as a human and not her full self, but she made a mental note to have a new host created. She needed a different face to show when she was not ripping humans in half for the pleasure of the court.
Slipping back into her room, Etani had clay ordered through Sasha with the stipulation that it be delivered to the cold room in the kitchens. It was several hours before the delivery notification reached her rooms, and she had used the time to bathe under the waterfall.
She flopped onto the couch, lounging while she watched Sasha sewing up the damage that had been done to her dress. She had ripped the seam tying it around her waist. It was hypnotising to watch the girl's fingers working, the tear becoming nothing at all. Sasha was quick to give instruction about how the stitching on the torn seam was different than the stitches used to repair any other part of the fabric.
A knock came at the door and both women looked up suspiciously. Etani was wary since Epharis still had not turned up, but she doubted that the lich would knock.
Sasha moved quickly for the door. After a moment, she returned with a distressed expression on her face.
"My Lady, it is requested that you join his Majesty for dinner," she said slowly, her face anxious.
"I would be delighted," Etani responded, curious but not surprised that he would want to see her after what had happened.
Within half an hour, Sasha had dressed her.
She stepped out into the hall, clad in a modest black gown that cut across her chest in a straight line and trailed the floor, hiding her still bare feet. It was pretty, but it was still too big for her liking, with layers of frothy black scratchy material underneath, and fat, round sleeves that hung off her shoulders.
Following along in the wake of the guard, she considered what he might have to say to her, and what she was going to say to him. She was chewing on her tongue by the time they crossed to the opposite side of the castle where she was ushered through a tall, unusually wide door.
She had expected to find a private dining room, but she was momentarily thrown off guard by the sight of a large sitting room that looked fairly similar to her own.
In a flash of panic, she realised that he had invited her to his private suite. She froze in the doorway. She was in the king's rooms.
"Come in," a low voice said. The king was not wearing his armour this time and even without it he was tall and incredibly broad, with massive shoulders and legs. Wearing a simple shirt, pants and boots, he looked strange to her, shrunken almost.
He was less like a walking fort and more like a man.
The man was incredibly muscled and toned, with arms that bulged and biceps that were bigger than her waist, enormous thighs and a chest that most women would have drooled over. His hair reached just past his shoulders and had been tied back at the nape of his neck. Several strands had escaped and fell down around his face.
Turning around to her, he held two large goblets of red liquid. He made a slight motion to one of the two overlarge couches. She obeyed quickly, crossing the room and sitting down where he had indicated, her mind reeling on what he could possibly want from her.
The scars that covered his exposed skin enhanced his masculine appeal, brows pulled low over those incredible eyes that she could easily have gotten lost in. He looked rather grim, crossing to the couch opposite hers, and offering her the goblet.
Accepting it, she cupped it carefully between both hands, feeling a little silly. Her hands were tiny compared to his, and the goblet had been made for him, leaving her feeling like a child trying to hold an adult's drink for them.
"Your Majesty…" She stared warily, but she stopped as he gave a wave of his hand, downing a good half of the goblet in one gulp.
Swallowing slowly, the goblet hung from his hand between his knees as he leant forward, resting his elbow on his thigh to study her.
"You are not human," he said simply.
"Neither are you," she replied, earning a cold and calculating smile from the man.
"My brother has a hold over you," he said, another statement of fact. She decided not to answer, simply watching him. "What does he have on you?" he asked finally when she made it clear she was not going to reply.
Lifting the goblet to her lips, she sniffed it warily for a second before she took a careful sip, buying herself time to come up with an answer. The rich wine left her tongue feeling numb.
She did not drink, not ever, and she did not much like it.
"Your brother is a clever man. He knows how to capture creatures and how to keep them alive until they are no longer useful," she said carefully, giving in to the tense silence when he refused to let her ignore the question. "How did you know I was in the dungeon?"
"One of the guards told a story of a woman being kept there by the prince. He was experimenting on her and yet she was still alive for weeks while he tried to figure out what she was. He spoke of her being opened from navel to throat, with her innards being strewn out on the table before her." His eyes drifted down the length of her torso and then back up to her face.
She did not reply; instead, she stared back at him and pretended to take another sip. She was not keen on the sensation it caused at the back of her mind. It was like someone had set a fire, and was trying to heat her body up for slow roasting.
"He spoke of her trying to escape, and then of the prince cursing her. Sacrificing a guard in order to curse her."
Swallowing hard, she set the goblet down on the table between them. She lifted her eyes to him as he downed the last of his wine and stood. He moved away from her to refill his drink.
"What was the curse?" he asked, his back to her but she could see a very slight tremor in his hands.
"That I should not be permitted to live if he is killed, and that we would be bound for eternity," she said slowly, shifting the goblet slightly further away from the edge of the table before leaning back and resting her hands in her lap.
The man had stomped his way back to the couch and sat down heavily, glowering at her as he rolled the goblet between his fingers.
"What about the deal?" he pressed, but he had only barely finished speaking before there came a polite knock at the door.
A guard opened the door for a young woman. She wore the same black servant's dress that the others wore. She set down a large covered tray on the table between the two of them, and then hurried back out of the door, her face down. The guard was quick to close the door behind her, returning them to their privacy.
"What are you?" Etani asked, her eyes lingering on the door for a moment before turning back to him.
"I am the son of a titan and the Mother-Goddess Tiamat," he said with a strong note of pride in his voice.
The statement left her mind frozen. She tried again and again to process the information. It was not at all what she had expected. Sure, he was a huge man, but the son of a titan?
Her eyes dragged down his form slowly, taking in all the bulging muscles and his height, those golden eyes and the fact that he seemed to simply radiate strength and power. It was not entirely impossible, if his mother had been of average size. The thought made her very aware that he was likely even more powerful than his outward appearance would suggest.
He had been watching her while she tried to wrap her brain around the information, an amused smile on his face at her confusion.
"Not a common mix, no," he said, almost as though he had read her lagging mind.
"Your brother is a lich," she said, her tone suggesting the two made no sense. Lich had to be human, did they not? Was it possible for a mythical, or half-mythical being to become a lich?
"Lich are not born, they are made. He is my half-brother to different mothers. She was human and died in childbirth, my brother was greedy and wanted to be the strongest, and, in the end, he thought that being a lich would give him that." His tone was almost oozing disgust. "I will admit, he was not wrong that it would make him stronger."
Her gaze turned from him to the window, birds flying in the distance as the sun began to dip down towards the horizon and it gave her time to take in the information he had provided.
"Now, you tell me what you are," he said finally.
Turning back to him, she considered the question and what she was. She could not deny that being honest with the man was in her best interest. Given he had been so open with her, she could not come up with a valid reason to lie to him.
"I am one of the fae," she said simply.
It was not a lie, but it was not the whole truth either.
He seemed just as dumbfounded by her statement as she had been by his, and she waited patiently while he took in the information.
"My brother captured you?" he asked, his eyes dipping down slightly to the silver chain about her throat.
"He got lucky," she replied coldly.
"Indeed, he did. How did that come about?" Regardless of how casual his tone was and how passing the question seemed on the outside, she could not help but notice that his muscles had tensed as though he were excited by something. He reached for the tray.
"I was feeding and distracted when he came upon me. He used some strange magic to subdue me." She was careful, not wanting to inform him that the gold chain was what had captured her, just in case it gave the man ideas.
He lifted the cover off the platter, offering the tray to her first. It was covered with a layer of toasted bread with little strips of spiced chicken and lettuce. Accepting one, she bit into it and chewed. The chicken tasted rather pleasant.
He had been watching her with a clear fascination. She doubted he was done questioning her, but she was patient and she remained silent, returning his stare as she swallowed the bite.
It tasted quite good, but it would do very little for her. She could gain no nutrients from it, and eventually it would simply dissolve in her belly.
Taking a second piece, she settled back into the couch and looked around his sumptuous room. It was decorated in dark colours, the woods all stained deep tones. While it came off as a little brooding, it was quite aesthetically pleasing. Against the wall in a corner was a sword that was taller than she was, resting comfortably in a cradle designed for it.
"Why did you come to my defence?" he asked suddenly, having already eaten several of the little snacks.
Chewing slowly on the second half of hers, she examined the sword for a moment longer before she turned back to him.
"I do not know, really," she said, her mind going back over the scene while his frown grew. "I acted on impulse, to protect the crown. I do not know you, but I do know that your brother should never be king. You must not be permitted to die until you have an heir." She spoke bluntly and the man's head tilted as though she had said something odd.
"How do you know I have no heir?" he asked curiously.
Her brows lifted slightly but when he did not say anything, she motioned to the room around them. Remembering she had the snack in her hand, she took a bite out of it. She could not tell what the spices were, but they were delicious. Swallowing, she looked back at him.
"You either have an illegitimate child you have not recognised, or you have none. You are unmarried, you lack a ring. Your rooms are very distinctly masculine, suggesting you have no mistress or fiancée. There is only one throne, and there is no indication that a woman has ever come into these rooms unless it's to be gone again in a matter of hours." His brows lifted and so she elaborated. "No combs, no perfume, no softening of your appearance or the appearance of your rooms, there are no women's shoes, and no woman living here would be thrilled by the colour scheme long term." Dropping her eyes to the piece of toast, she touched her finger to the sauce and touched it to the tip of her tongue before she spoke. "You are very clearly a bachelor, same as the prince, and if I'm not mistaken, you have both been in that state for some time."