Page 10 of A Kingdom of Broken Bonds

“Did you know anything about that?” Although I keep my voice low, there is more anger in my tone than I had intended and it takes me a moment to reign it in.

Geoff eyes me with displeasure. “The centaurs or the shadow stealer?”

“Both,” I grit out through clenched teeth. We’re supposed to be a team, and if I learn that he knew about the centaurs, I’m going to struggle to keep my composure. That sort of information is not something to keep from me. I need to know everything that involves the prophecy, especially as I’m about to fulfil my part of it. My head is pounding, and my fangs ache in my mouth, a sure sign that my body is priming itself to fight. I didn’t even drink the spiced blood in the glass at the tea party, something I’m now regretting since I’m going to need all the strength I can get to make it through today.

“I heard that the new bride from Barheer was powerful and older than the previous representatives, but I had no idea what she was. I’m surprised that the king allowed it, to be honest, since they are dangerous creatures to have around.” Clucking his tongue in disapproval, he shakes his head, keeping his gaze straight ahead. “Many have been put to death over the years. I was not aware that any of their kind remained.”

The power of the shadow stealers is addictive, and no matter how innocent they begin, their hunger for souls grows over time, until they tear through villages and towns, ravaging them and leaving the dead husks of their victims behind as a calling card. That sort of power made them good assassins, until they turned on their employers. Eventually it was decided they were too dangerous, which is why there aren’t many left.

Why has the king decided to allow her to be one of the brides? If she lost control and slaughtered half the castle, it would be devastating. However, having a shadow stealer on hand would be useful for the king, not to mention a huge deterrent for other lands to think about taking back control. He must have a way of controlling her.

I believe his explanation, but he’s not yet answered the most important question. “And the centaurs?”

As I look at him, I notice the small signs of tension in him, such as the tautness he carries in his jaw. His eyes flick around us, surreptitiously looking around to see who is within hearing distance. “There have been rumblings from them for quite a few years, but no one ever thought they would be stupid enough to break off from the king.”

While I can understand why he doesn’t want to talk about this now, what I don’t understand is why I was kept in the dark. Incredulous, I shake my head. “Why am I only just hearing about it now?”

“It was kept quiet to ensure that rebellions didn’t break out, especially since none of us thought the centaurs would do anything so rash.” The note of distaste is the only outward sign of Geoff’s feeling towards the centaurs’ actions. Clearing his throat, he turns his attention to me, taking in my appearance. “Are you ready for this meeting?”

I wonder what he would do if I suddenly told him I wasn’t ready and I didn’t want to do this—not that I would ever do that. This is about more than just me, it’s about the prosperity of my people. Still, I can’t help but wonder what his reaction would be.

Not long after Terra joined us, a messenger arrived with a missive from the king, requesting my presence immediately. No one offered me their best wishes or any form of luck, but the looks they gave me conveyed their understanding and silent support as I went to greet my fate.

“Of course, this is what I’ve trained for my whole life,” I reply smoothly, the words coming easily as I respond exactly as I’ve been taught over the years, not letting a hint of my apprehension show.

A meeting with the king can only mean one thing. I’m going to meet my mate for the first time. Geoff informed me on the carriage ride over that the first time we met would be supervised, and after that, there would be a time for us to meet alone and get to know one another.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little excited to meet my mate. I’ve seen the bond between true mates in the past and am excited to have a connection so pure between myself and another, knowing for certain that the other person is a hundred percent made for you.

“Good,” my advisor replies after a long moment, his look assessing. “Remember everything we taught you. I will be there if you need anything.”

This is uncharacteristically nice of him, and it helps to reassure me. He might be stern, but he’s been the only constant in my life. Not even my own father treats me with fondness.

I take a deep breath, feeling my lungs expand, and hold it for a second, clearing my mind. With a slow, smooth exhale, I allow all of my negative emotions to leave with the air I expel from my body.

I am ready for this.

As we’ve moved through the castle, I have noticed that there are less and less people in the hallways, indicating we’re getting closer to the king’s office. Guards appear as we turn into another corridor, and I know we’re here.

We stop outside of the heavily guarded door, and one of the guards goes inside to announce our arrival. I take a moment to glance around at the opulence surrounding me. Even without the six fully armed guards stationed outside, it would be impossible to mistake this wing of the castle as belonging to anyone other than royalty. The door is wooden and intricately carved with representations of each race, and it makes me wish I had more time to study the depictions. Rich woven rugs line the hallway, which is much larger and better lit than the other corridors I’ve traversed so far. Windows line the wall, allowing the pink light from the rising sun to illuminate the space.

After only a moment, the guard slips through the doors and bangs his staff on the ground, an action the others repeat. If one didn’t find the synchronised sound intimidating as it echoes in the hall, then the golden sparks that burst from the bottom of their staffs would be enough to put anyone on edge.

“The king is ready to see you,” the first guard announces, and with a wave of his hand, the huge double doors to the king’s office open independently.

Shaped like a semicircle,the king’s office is more like a miniature library, bookshelves covering every spare inch of the curved walls. Directly opposite the doors is a huge bay window, filling the room with light. The tiled floor is spotless, and the heavy drapes around the windows are neatly tied back with golden cords. In the centre of the room is a large desk with a throne-like chair behind it. My eyes pass over the stacks of books on the king’s desk, and I can’t help wondering what he’s reading.

Four large, plush chairs are set up in a semicircle facing the desk, one of which is already taken by one of the king’s advisors.

Of course, the only thing that is left is the king himself, who stands by the window, watching the sunrise.

“Your Majesty,” I greet, dropping into a deep curtsy as Geoff does the same from behind me. Protocol dictates that we hold our gestures of respect until the king acknowledges us, and I’ve heard rumours that he’s made some people wait for hours before allowing them to stand. However, while I hold my curtsy, I allow my eyes to flick up and take in the figure of the king.

No one is quite sure what race King Drath is. I’ve heard whispers that he’s a hybrid of several races, and that’s why he is so powerful. A lot of his kingdom is made up of the other races who have decided to leave their homelands behind.

He has a large build that is all muscle. His golden, mane-like hair travels down his back, and the only thing keeping it in order is the golden circlet he wears. There is a feline look to his face that I’ve never quite been able to place, and his almond-shaped eyes have a slitted pupil rather than a circular one. Sharply pointed ears poke from his hair, and the nails on his hands are more like claws. I have no doubt that he could gut me with one slash of his wrist. He appears to be middle-aged, but I have no idea what his true age is. The power he exudes would make me think he’s far older than he appears.

The king continues to stare out of the window, his eyes locked on something I’m unable to see from my angle. There’s a yearning in his expression that I doubt he meant for us to see, and with a sigh so quiet I almost don’t hear it, he pulls away from the window and faces us.

---