Page 25 of A Kingdom of Monsters

Idris smiled again. “I haven’t ventured far into the city itself, but the castle is comfortable. Though, I suppose anything is better than where you found me.”

I cleared my throat, a slight wave of discomfort washing over me. “That was actually what I wanted to discuss.”

He held up a hand to stop me, frowning apologetically. “If you’ve come to ask more about what I recall from prior to my imprisonment, I’m sorry to tell you that nothing has jogged my memory.”

“No, it’s not that,” I said quickly. “Not precisely at any rate. My mother seemed to think–”

He cocked his head at me, his smile still firmly fixed in place yet for some reason a small shiver traveled down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the damp wind.

“Your mother is the one who tried to kill you in the dungeons, correct?”

“Well yes. She was a flawed person, but–”

“Then why would you take stock in anything she said? She was human, was she not? Doesn’t it seem more likely that she lied?”

I narrowed my eyes in annoyance. He hadn’t even let me finish my question before he was denying the credibility of my mother’s story. Did that mean he had more information than he wanted to share, or was this simply the Fae’s tendency to write off humans as untrustworthy?

Seeming to sense my frustration, Idris changed tact. His smile returned, and he put an almost fatherly hand on my shoulder. “I apologize. I should be more sensitive to your recent loss.”

“I just wish I knew who killed her?”

He seemed taken aback. “You think someone else killed her? Someone other than yourself, of course.”

I scowled openly this time. “I didn’t kill her, and yes, I do. Either that or she did it herself, because there’s no chance that she dropped dead of natural causes in the few minutes between when I left her and when Scion and Ambrose found her body.”

He looked troubled–perhaps sympathetic, but it was hard to tell as I did not know him well. “Is it always so dreary here?” he asked abruptly, changing the subject so fast it gave me whiplash.

I frowned. “I thought you said you enjoyed the rain?”

“No, you misunderstand,” he waved me off. “I mean dreary within the castle. All any of you seem to do is stay locked up in that old study, or train as if you’re at war.”

I opened my mouth to tell him we were at war, then closed it again shaking my head. I supposed we really weren’t—not any more, at any rate. It had been Ambrose and his rebellion who had for so long necessitated a strong army presence in the capital, but now that there was an uneasy truce between him and the rest of the family there was little need to prepare for another attack. Furthermore, the realm of Underneath, which had maintained a constant threat for many years, was no longer a concern now that Bael had won the throne.

One could argue that Aftermath still posed a threat, with its Wilde magic and afflicted monsters, but that wasn’t a war so to speak.

I supposed Idris was right—we were constantly vigilant for a threat that had no physical form.

“It’s complicated,” I said vaguely. “And I do not think we are behaving as if there’s a war coming. I’m merely training to use my magic better.”

“But what for?” he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“For…I don’t know, what do you mean?”

“You have exclusively combative magic, do you not? What is the point of your abilities if not to fight?”

I had no answer for that.

Again, he was correct, but I was not the only one whom that applied to. Neither Bael nor Scion had the sort of magic that could do much else besides killing, yet they’d trained since birth to master their powers. Was I not doing the same?

“I suppose I’m not exactly sure what you’re getting at,” I said finally.

“I’m merely noting that I’ve never encountered a royal court that engaged in such little revelry.”

“How many royal courts have you encountered?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He waved me off. “It was a figure of speech. I only meant, do you not host parties? Throw balls?”

“Er…well I don’t, no.”

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