Page 129 of Somber Prince

“What did you say?”

“I said,” I repeated just as loud and clear as the first time, “you can keep every Joy Vessel of mine we’ll recover, except for one. Dawn is mine.”

Clinking with the chains that connected the rings on her fingers to the bangles around her wrists, the queen gripped the back of the chaise and pushed up, standing straight. A few beautiful but deadly golden bees rose into the air from the honeycomb panels with the queen’s move.

“How dare you question my judgement?” Her voice dropped threateningly low.

She didn’t ask who Dawn was or what made her so special to me. That didn’t matter. All that mattered to the queen was that I dared defy her.

“I’m not leaving Kalmena without her.” I stood my ground.

“You broke the law.” She headed my way, reciting my transgressions with every step. “You lost the Joy Vessels. Many of them escaped to their world, negating the effort it cost us to bring them here. Several are now dead. Others are stolen. They were your responsibility. Their loss is on you.”

I stood straighter as she approached. “I agree. They were my responsibility, and I am prepared to answer for their loss. I’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit. But Dawn will stay with me.”

She stopped two steps away, gazing up at me from under her veil as one would look at an object standing in their way.

“It’s no secret that I resented you from the day you were born,” she said. “All your life, I waited for you to prove me right in my resentment. You were a quiet, contemplative child, and I thought you must be timid and weak. But then, you fearlessly headed my army, won battles, and brought glory to the crown.” There was no praise in her voice, just the same old disappointment. “I thought that proved you must be a careless hothead, unable to govern. I sent you to Teneris, the city so overrun by disorder, poverty, and crime, I thought it’d eat you alive. But you turned it into one of the most prosperous cities of the kingdom. I waited for you to fail, but you managed to thrive at every turn. You have never been right for me, but I admitted, you might be right for the kingdom. Alzali spent years in Kalmena, trying to convince me otherwise. She’s good, but not as good as you.” She slowly drew in the stifling, sweet air. “And now you did it. You finally made a mistake that both Alzali and I have been waiting for. You proved you aren’t perfect. You let the Joy Vessels go.”

She strolled along the honeycomb panels, their golden glow piercing through the veil around her. Her bangles clinked as she raised her hand, letting a dangerous golden bee land on her finger.

“I should execute you,” she spoke to me, keeping her eyes on the bee. “Alzali could be my successor. The kingdom would have a queen, as it should, and no traditions would be broken. But…his blood is in your veins.” Her voice broke off. She dropped her hand, the bee flying away with a buzz.

The queen turned her head, glaring at me over her shoulder. “No matter how disappointed I was on the day you were born, I could never truly despise you. You are a part of him. And now, you’re all I have left of your father.” She flinched. “You look like him, sound like him, you even act like him sometimes… But you are not him. It’s like a cruel joke. A mockery. I can’t stomach looking at you. It makes me ill.”

She turned away again, unable to hold my gaze.

“You miss him,” I said softly.

She whipped around. “I loved him. I still do. Even after all these years. I never stopped.”

Hope fluttered its fragile wings inside my heart. “Then you should understand. I love Dawn. I can never part from her.”

The queen seemed speechless at my admission. Then she tilted her head back and laughed. It was a dry, mocking laughter without any mirth—the only kind of laughter that shadow fae could muster without the help of a Joy Vessel.

“What do you know about love, boy?” she scoffed.

The insult burned deep, blowing away caution. It was more than personal. She questioned the connection Dawn and I had built. The connection I now held sacred.

“More than you do, my queen. My love is stronger than yours ever was,” I snapped. Her mouth dropped open at my audacity, but I continued. “You were so afraid of losing Father, you smothered him, taking away his free will.”

I should’ve said it decades ago, instead of trying to be respectful of her mourning. Ever since Father died, the queen had allowed grief to consume her. She wore it proudly like the most splendid garment. Her grief had become her, blinding her to everything else. She never even realized how badly she hurt Father while he was still alive.

Her eyes narrowed. The look in them turned sharp like a blade.

“How dare you?—”

But I refused to stop now.

“Father was a seasoned warrior when you met him. He tracked through the desert, slept under the dunes, and weathered the day storms. He thrived outside in fresh air, and you locked him here, in your perfumed royal chambers. Every time I returned to the palace after a trip, he begged me to describe how the moon looked that night and what the air smelled like outside of these walls. You took away everything that brought him peace.”

“He loved me,” she protested.

“He did, as much as one can love their jailer. That’s why he gave up everything for you. But he was miserable. Believe me, he would’ve given up the crown for just one more mission outside of the palace walls.”

Her anger exploded.

“Kalmena was the only safe place for him! And you know it. I did everything to protect him, but death still found him. Even here, in the palace, despite my best efforts, it found him…” Her voice broke, and her chin trembled.

---