Page 44 of Their Demon

“Nothing, Father. I—I just gave her some of my food. I wasn’t going to eat it. Sh—she said she was starving. I was trying to be nice.”

His laughter boomed in the room, echoing off the walls and hitting me from every angle. Tears threatened to fall, but I knew that would only make him angrier. He hated it when I showed weakness.

“You stupid,stupidboy. Have I taught you nothing? Kings aren’tnice, Keir. Kings are strong and powerful. They do not give things away out of the kindness of their hearts. They make their subjects work hard for it. Did you stop to think that maybe she was hungry because she wasn’t doing her job? Hmmm?” He was standing so close to me, I had to look up at him. He was looming over me on purpose, trying to make me feel insignificant.

It was working.

My mouth had suddenly gone dry, my throat along with it. I started to open my mouth and offer more of an explanation.

The girl was just hungry. She was one of the servants’ children and looked weak and tired. I’d only wanted to help. She couldn’t have been much older than me, and the moment she told me she hadn’t eaten more than a slice of bread for the last four days, my stomach dropped, and my appetite faded. I immediately offered her my food, which she was weary about at first, but she gobbled it down in a hurry.

My father walked into the dining hall as she finished the last bite and had the guards drag her away crying as he stared daggers into me.

No words would form. The way he looked and talked to me told me he wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say anyway. What I had done was wrong in his eyes, and I would pay dearly for it.

He smirked at my inability to speak. “I am glad you see my point. Unfortunately, this cannot go unpunished, Keir. You understand.”

I nodded. He’d been itching to get his hands on me for years, but my mother was always around to protect me, saying I was just a child and that a stern lecture was enough to set me straight. She wasn’t here now, though. He’d sent her away for a ‘relaxing week’, saying he would use the time to bond with me. This was the first time I’d seen him since she left six days ago.

He pondered for a moment, his fingers rubbing his chin. “Now, what would be an appropriate punishment for such an offense? I feel betrayed, humiliated. My own flesh and blood, heir to the throne,gavefood away. I am disgusted anddisappointed. I thought I raised you better than that, and here you are, gallivanting about being charitable. Do you know how that would make me look if it got out that my son issensitive?” I shook my head. “I would look weak. No one would respect me. They’d probably rise up and try to overthrow me, thinking I am inadequate, like my insolent excuse for an heir!” I wiped his spit from my face, almost missing his eyes lighting up. “I have the perfect idea.” A chilling smile spread on his face.

No less than ten minutes later, I was on my knees to the left of his throne, facing the doors where the people of his kingdom would enter. Sharp shards of bone sliced into the thin layer of skin covering my kneecaps, cutting further every time I shifted my position.

“You’ll remain like this until the last peasant has left. Watch me with careful eyes, Keir. See how I treat them, how I respond to them. The way I act with them is how you should act with them. If you give them too much, they’ll take and take until there is nothing left. There is no room for compassion when you’re sitting on the throne.”

He was so cruel that day. Every person who came through those doors was denied their request. Most left crying, but some had to be dragged out as they begged and screamed. Even small requests, such as larger rations for families with more children, were denied. He cackled the entire time, especially when they wept.

“Their tears mean nothing. It’s all a show they put on to try and get what they want. It’s pathetic how greedy they can be.”

Once the last citizen left, I was allowed to stand. I fought with all my might not to cry out when I extended my legs. The pain caused by the cuts and bruises, accompanied by thetingling sleepiness from not moving for several hours, was excruciating.

I asked for a towel to clean myself up with, but he refused, saying he wasn’t finished with me yet. There was still a lesson to be taught.

He walked me back to my room, blood dripping down my shins as he talked more about what it took to be the king of Hell and that I had a long way to go until I was ready. He also said that one day, I would understand why he was so hard on me and even be grateful for it.

“Oh my Satan! Keir, what happened?” my mother shrieked as we reached the hall where my bedroom was.

She rushed to me and got down on her knees, inspecting the gashes and talking worriedly about how she shouldn’t have left for so long because she knew I would end up getting hurt.

“What are you doing back?” my father asked coldly. “You weren’t supposed to come home until tomorrow, Evelyn.”

She was busy cleaning the red drips from my shin with her beautiful, custom-made green dress. The splotches of my blood would surely stain her gown, but she didn’t seem concerned with that at all. Mother didn’t look up as she replied, “I wanted to come home tonight. I missed my boys. There was no sense in waiting until the morning to return, and I’m glad I made that choice.”

“You should have asked me first,” my father said through gritted teeth, displeased with my mother’s ability to make a choice of her own.

“Sorry, dear,” she spoke softly, picking up on his provoked state. “I just missed you.” She stood up and kissed his cheek, andhe seemed to soften a little—verylittle. “What happened to your knees, Keir?” she asked, turning back to me.

“Fath—”

“He was punished.” My mother gasped at my father’s explanation. “Don’t give me that look, woman. He has royal blood in him; he will heal without a scar. He deserved it, though. You are too soft on him, and it has made him soft. This won’t be a conversation. I am his father, and I will act as such. He is the heir, and he will act as such.” He turned on his heels and left us alone in the hall.

Mother fussed over me for another hour or so, helping me clean up and bandage my knees. She even held me in bed, brushing her fingers through my hair and telling me stories of her time on Earth until I fell asleep.

“Keir.”

“Father.”

He was waiting for me, his fingers laced together, elbows on his desk. I stood a few paces from him, staring, waiting.

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