Page 63 of A Kingdom of Broken Bonds

“Anthea,” he greets without a hint of warmth in his cold eyes and inexpressive features. I should know better than to expect him to be anything else, but the short exchange is more painful after everything that happened.

“Lady Anthea, thank you for coming so quickly,” the king says, pulling our attention to him at the head of the room. Lifting a hand, he lazily waves it towards my father. “As you can see, we have an emissary from Trador, and he would not speak his message until you were present.”

Surprised, I raise my brows and look at my father. His court manners are impeccable, so for him to refuse to speak to the king until I was here is both unusual and alarming.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. This message concerns the lady, and I am short on time and cannot delay.” My father’s well-spoken voice is familiar and brings up unpleasant feelings. I only used to hear it when I was not doing as well as he hoped I would. Praise was a hard thing to obtain from him.

“Our mighty King Trador has sent me as his emissary to give you this message. As you are aware, there is a disease spreading among the vampires. Our land is being ravaged and torn apart by our own people.” He pauses as his grand voice takes on a tight edge. The well-being of our people has always been a top priority for my father, so he must be taking this hard. “As you have failed to provide any help or return our bride to us as requested, I am here to take her back to Trador. We believe she is the key to fixing all of this. The way you and your son have treated her is appalling, and as such, a great insult to Trador as a nation. Now, we are dying in large numbers, and you are refusing assistance. If you try to stop me from taking Lady Anthea back to Trador, then we shall take it as an act of war.”

Stunned silence fills the throne room, the weight of my father’s words falling heavy over us all. The king will be declaring war if Drathlor refuses to allow me to leave. It sounds as though they believe I can help with the disease. I want to fall to my knees and beg the king to allow it. This is my chance to properly help. Even if there is nothing I can do about the prophecy, there has to be something I can do about the destruction of my homeland.

The whole room seems to hold its breath as it waits for the king to reply, his queen looking aghast by the sudden nature of this new threat. This is a serious situation, one that could easily dissolve into all-out war, exactly what we are trying to avoid with the prophecy. The king is being forced into a decision without any time to deliberate. While it is a clever strategy, as it gives him no time to find a way out of this, I am also worried about the repercussions of forcing a male like him into conceding.

The tension is so thick I could almost cut through it with my dagger, and from the awkward shuffling of the guards stationed around the room, I know I am not the only one who feels it. The king shifts his eyes from my father to me, scanning me from head to toe before returning his hard stare to the emissary.

“I do not take kindly to being threatened in my own throne room.” The power he infuses into his voice rattles my bones, forcing many of those witnessing this to their knees. From the corner of my eye, I notice Geoff on one knee, his head bent, and I see my father struggling against the power directed at him.

“Due to the recent circumstances of this new disease among the vampires, and the unfortunate events involving my son, I shall allow Lady Anthea to return to Trador for a month.” The way he accentuates the final word tells me that even delaying my return by a single day would have severe consequences. “Then,” he continues after a heavy pause, “she is expected to return here. This is extended as an act of friendship.” His voice is as sharp as a knife, the last word drawn out to make his point. He does not want a war, but he is not happy about being pushed into this decision.

My father bows his head, and without a further word, he takes this as a dismissal and gestures for me to follow him as he turns and strides towards the doors.

Stunned, I look at the king. His expression is enough of a threat that he does not need to repeat his words. I have a month, and then I am expected back. I do not even want to contemplate the repercussions of disobeying. I curtsy deeply and see Eli bow in my periphery, and then I turn to join my father who is almost out of the door.

Chapter Twenty-Five

As soon as we leave the throne room, I jog down the corridor to catch up with my father, Eli keeping pace with me. I have so many questions, my fear hardening me as I prepare for whatever is necessary of me. This is no time for uncertainty or anxiety. The distant sounds of Geoff huffing behind us tell me he’s trying to catch up, but I do not slow, needing to learn the truth of what is happening.

Trador is a proud nation, but we do not act in haste. This—whatever this is—is completely out of character. The beat of my heart is so rapid that it aches, feeling as though it is going to pound its way through my ribcage. Although dread fills me, I have been prepared to deal with a crisis within my land. First, though, I need to know how bad the situation is.

Finally reaching my father’s side, I place a hand on his arm to slow him down. “Father—”

He shakes off my touch, his stride not faltering in the least as he powers forward as though nothing just transpired. He does at least deign to glance at me, shaking his head.

“We are being listened to. Wait until we are outside.” Short and sharp, his words are an order he clearly expects to be obeyed.

I am a little surprised that we are not going back to our suites to discuss what is going on, and it is only as we leave the castle and start moving towards the stable block that I realise he means to leave immediately. It is not a short journey from Trador to Drathlor City, so he must be in need of a rest, yet he is already striding towards his large dark horse.

“Wait, you are leaving now?”

I know nothing of his plan, why I’m leaving, or when he plans for me to travel back. Can he not spare a few minutes to discuss this with me before racing back to our king? I try not to pay attention to the fact that this might be hinting at just how bad the situation in our homeland is.

Striding straight up to his horse, which is being fed by Felix, my father adjusts the saddle and stirrups, preparing to mount. “No,” he bites out, the word tight as he glances at me with raised brows. “We are leaving now. We need you in Trador immediately. This would not be happening if Drath had not refused your requests to return to us.”

I understand the frustration in his voice, as it is the same I felt when the king told me of his decision. What takes me aback, though, is the fact that they were willing to threaten war against King Drath if I was not allowed to return to Trador.

“Father, what is happening in Trador that our king is willing to declare war over?” It is a question, but I ask it with the authority of one of the brides, demanding he answer simply with my tone.

He checks his saddle bags. “I will explain on the way, but our people are losing their minds. A disease has overtaken us, making us lose control. Rabid vampire attacks are tearing our society apart, and the humans are terrified of us. They have even begun hunting our kind.” He shakes his head with disgust. “Humans hunting us. It is an affront and an insult.”

My father’s attitude towards humans is, unfortunately, in line with most of what the born vampires also believe. They are a necessary source of food and labour that we require to live the quality of life we do, but in that sense, they are thought of as little more than cattle. The changed once started off life as humans, and they are also looked down upon by most of the nobility, which is made up of born vampires. I have always believed otherwise, my friendship and now relationship with Felix is proof of that.

Hearing that the humans are beginning to hunt us is disturbing. While we may be far more powerful, they are much greater in number.

Finished arranging his saddle, he turns to address me. “Our seers believe that you are directly connected to healing us of this affliction, and we need you before things escalate further.”

His expression is neutral as usual, yet I swear I see something glimmer in his eyes that looks like uncertainty. He may be trying to hide it, but he is concerned about what is happening. I do not bother to wonder if his concern is about me and what I might be expected to do in my role—I know better than that.

I nod, my mind already spinning with everything I need to do before I can leave. He is clearly in a hurry, but there are some things that cannot be left, Finnik being one of those.

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