Page 10 of A Book of Royals and Deities

“Sounds like a job for the Sun king,” Ziven growls. “Where the fuck is Daegan?”

“Not been seen since the city, and Mazzis would piss himself if I asked him to do this. That leaves you, my king.” Calix waves at the door. “Time to do the thing you’re well known for being great at, talking.”

“Even I know he is being sarcastic right now,” Kyrell mutters.

“I’ll be at your side,” I offer Ziven. “Show them you’re not Daegan because you actually care. You stopped when Daegan wouldn’t have done. You won’t leave them to die. Tell them who you are and what it means to be a fae. Give them hope, and they will bow to you. We have been slaves for our entire lives, and there has never been a leader who is on our side before.”

“Fuck you, get Story to do the speech,” Calix suggests with a cough. “She is good at it.”

Ziven sighs and looks down at his clothes. “First, we get changed. They want a king, then I’m walking out there with a crown, and so are you.”

Chapter Six

Page Six?—

The Twilight Dynasty bred their dragons in the pits of fire, and the deities bled fire into their veins, which can only be seen in their magic and the shade of their hair.

The deserts are as vast and endless as the heat. Even though I was born here, this weather is too much. Guilt gnaws in my chest as I look at the fae worker next to me. He is a thin fae. I can see the outline of his bones sticking out of his cheeks, and his hair is all but gone from the top of his head. He’s walking next to my horse as a lead, a rope tied to his waist so I don’t use the horse to run away. His feet are covered in blisters, and he has no shoes. His skin is burnt nearly everywhere in shades of red and blisters so bad it’s hard to look at him. The smell is haunting too.

All I want to do is reach for him, to tell him to go and get in the shade, that he doesn’t need to walk next to my horse. But I knowif I do speak to him, if I say a word, the king will kill him for speaking to me. He is possessive of his favourite, and it’s another cage of his for me.

A dark shade is above me, keeping me constantly cooled, but the lotions on my skin stop any burns from the scorching sun. Here in the Lightsun lands, the sun feels like it never sets, and even the sandy ground is so bright it could resemble sunlight to anyone who looked upon it. Creatures like giant yellow scorpions and huge red snakes slither around the sand into holes, and many have attacked the working fae who are walking around with no shoes on. If they fall in the desert, the king’s order is to just leave them to the creatures of the sun for food. I hate it.

I glance over at the king’s carriage behind me, where he prefers to sit in complete darkness and mostly alone. I join him occasionally when he wants to feed, or fuck, or whatever he wants from me. But I prefer to be out here in the sunlight. There’s a sense of freedom, and I don’t feel as strangled by stifling heat.

I lift my metal drink container and open it, sipping on the warm water before looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to me. Thankfully, no one is. I slip the bottle down the side of me by my leg and gently kick the fae worker’s arm to get his attention. He jumps and looks over before quickly facing forward. His hand soon wraps around the water, and he drinks some, hidden by his cloak. I can’t give him much help other than this.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice broken. I don’t have the words to tell him not to thank me. The guilt I feel over the fact he is like me and he might die leading my horse is stifling. Eventually I get the water back when I’m sure no one is facingme. Bruises line my spine from how rough the king was with me yesterday, but I look at working fae, knowing damn well I have it easier than they do.

After six more days of travel, where the sands all look the same and there is nothing to look at on the horizon, a mountain district finally comes into view. Massive sheer walls surround the mountains for miles, and there is a single dirt road in and out. Bodies with sun birds picking at them hang next to skeletons outside the wall, a few feet between each one, and my stomach twists in disgust. The bodies move in the warm breeze, and an awful stench comes off them that I can’t help but smell. I don’t have to ask why they are hung outside. They’re hung there to make sure that the workers don’t try to form a rebellion and escape, because this is their fate. No one escapes here.

There must be hundreds, if not more, skeletons lining the thick walls of stone that are so high I can’t see into the village. The metal spiked gates are held open as we go in, the watchtowers on either side full of bowing vampyres. I feel eyes on me, and I turn back, finding Prince Emyr watching me with Princess Caelina at his side. Both of them are on white horses, like they are pure, and it feels like a total joke. I turn back to forward, knowing they are both watching me.

The rest of the royal family didn’t come except for the queen and Princess Caelina, the youngest princess. I don’t know her very well, but I’m sure she’s just like the rest of them. The queen keeps her close, takes her everywhere she goes, and they usually live in the snowy lands of the east where I’ve only been once. The king doesn’t like it there. I much prefer snow over sand. If it comes to picking favourites between your children, I’m certain that Caelina is the queen’s. However, Prince Emyr is definitelythe king’s. He lets them get away with too much to be anything less.

The fae workers help us off the horses before taking them to the stables, and I bow my head as the king gets out of his carriage. While I wait in silence and the vampyres here gush over the king being in their presence, I watch the village. Everything is bleak here. The houses are made of aged, weathered grey stone that stink of damp and rot. The people come out in their grey cloaks, marking them as workers for the mountains. Few of them lift their head and look our way, not daring to make eye contact. Some children peep out of their houses, though, their innocent faces snapping my heart in half.

In some ways, life’s better for children in the breeding camps. The children there at least get the freedom of the forests and are mostly left unbothered by vampyres, and they’re fed well, as the breeding fae are allowed to hunt for themselves. Here, if children are born, they’re called accidental or mistakes, and they stay here until they’re fourteen to be sorted. They are left alone all day with rationed food, sometimes all night while their parents work until they die.

Big towering mountains stand behind the village, casting a deep shadow that keeps it cooler here. The mountains are covered in yellow-almost-greenish sand from top to bottom, except for the enormous cave entrance dug out in the centre. They’re huge, absolutely gigantic, and this mountain range appears to stretch for thousands of miles.

Finally, the king is done with the chatter, and I walk behind him, my head bowed, my red cloak covering my face. He gets on to a cart, the prince sitting opposite him, and everyone else, including the queen and princess, is led to the royal quarters on the other side of the village. The queen’s red eyes meet mine fora second, and I internally wince. The queen is beautiful, but in the way a child vampyre can be before they rip your neck out for your blood. She is paler than the king, and her silver hair glitters in the braided bun on her head, where a silver tiara sits. She smooths her hands down her black gown, which must be hot to wear in this heat, before taking her daughter’s hand and leaving. Her daughter looks just like her but is less poisoned with hate. Prince Emyr clears his throat and snatches my attention. “What are we going to see, father?”

I’m hoping he’ll leave me behind and forget I’m here. My bag is handed to a working fae, and I glance at it for a second, knowing the book is hidden within a dress inside. If anyone looks, I’m dead. It doesn’t happen very often, but if I pray to the deities enough, maybe they will bless me with luck on this trip.

“Ava, here.” The king pats the seat next to him on the cart, and I smile like it’s exactly what I wanted. The deities are not all-giving this day, it seems. Reluctantly, I climb on next to him and press myself to his side. His hand latches around my thigh like a snake biting, his nails digging into my skin, branding, marking, owning. He calls it love; I call it chains. I rest my head on his shoulder, giving in to what he wants, because the other option is death. Pretending has become like a well-stretched muscle for me, and I don’t even notice anymore.

The prince watches from the other side, quiet and contemplating. His father is intelligent, and that intelligence has definitely gone to his child. Prince Emyr scares me, and he always has done. His obsession with Story Dehana was interesting, though. She clearly didn’t care for his abuse, and I wish I could have been more honest with her about how I felt. I don’t love the king. How could I? I kept Story’s secret about her mother, and I will take that to my grave.

The cart moves fast, two chestnut brown camels tugging it along from the front. The king taps his other hand on his leg. “I’ve been spending years here, hundreds of years, creating something to keep the vampyres alive. You were not born when dragons reigned the skies and the fae ruled without any competition. No one could stand against them. There were five ruling families. Each one of them was powerful but, well, the Sun and Moon were known most. The Dawn Dynasty, where I came from, was weak. I was the king of the Dawn Dynasty, a young king of a small land. I wanted a way to live forever, and I wanted a way to make sure that we would never be threatened.”

My heart pounds as I listen while he continues his story. “The Dawn Dynasty did not have dragons that could fly or fight. We did not ride them because the deities had cursed us with weakness. We were the only dynasty that didn’t ride, and that made us considerably weak to the others. The Twilight Dynasty were very small in number, but they had the biggest dragons, making them the most formidable. I married the princess of the Twilight Dynasty, but she could not bear me children. She betrayed me in the end.”

Prince Emyr frowns. “I know your history, father.”

“I turned my second wife, and she has borne me very many children, as you well know. Yet my first wife has caused endless amounts of trouble that I cannot forget.” He looks at me and then turns away before I can read his expression. “You know I was the first vampyre, but you do not know how.” Sometimes it’s good to be almost invisible. I’m the king’s whore, his blood slave, and I might as well not have ears for all he cares when he speaks around me. Someday I might have all of the information to be a useful weapon against him.

“The magical book I once had…” the king carries on as we continue rolling in the cart, “there were two of them. One book mirrors the other. In the book that I had, I read everything in it and learnt the ways of dark magic. I learnt how to change myself into a vampyre and live forever like this.”

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