Page 23 of Royal Lies

"Then wake me up the normal way. Ugh! Whatever, now I can't sleep." Storming up from my makeshift sleeping bag, which was just a dirty old fur blanket made from the werehounds we fought, I made my way over to the edge of the cave we decided to rest in. It was better than sleeping in the snow I suppose. Scowling, I wondered why he was even sleeping so close to me in the first place. His little sleeping bag was at least five feet away last I checked. Now it was like right next to mine. Just as I was about to ask him that, another mind-boggling thumping started in my head.

"Remember the star over there. It's a Griffin, just like you, my little sweet pea." He'd told me. His burnish orange eyes turned towards me, so unlike mine. How I wished I looked more like him and the queen. His smiling gaze was warm and comforting, such a contrast to the cold unfeeling man who was my father. I wantedthisman to be my father, the man that was practically my father. I mean he was married to my aunt. How could I not remember her? She saved me, rescued me from being left an orphan. If I needed to remember anyone, it was her. She was the person I should remember, she was the person I needed to remember, not some deadbeat dad.

Cold, then darkness.

Yanking my eyes open I peered up at the gray hues of my tent.

Man, why the hell do I feel like I was so not rested?I mean like wow, am I tired and cold. Fucking chilly as hell. Maybe because we were in the Winter Wonderlands, duh, it's supposed to be cold.

I laughed to myself at my stupidity. Turning I frowned at the bedraggled man before me, his prim tone the only proper thing about him as he looked like someone nearly beat him to an inch of his life. As if he's been-

Oh hell no!

"Did you go out hunting without me? Eli! Come on, that's so unfair!" Hands on my waist tried my best scowling Eli impression. Rolling his eyes, he tossed the werehound before me.

"I'm going to go take a quick nap," Ignoring my outcries Eli turned heading towards his sleeping back five feet away from mine before he passed out, so unlike him. Huh, odd, ok well fuck him he went hunting without me, no fair. I'm so going to tease the hell out of him later for his not-so-proper attitude of ignoring a lady not to mention sleeping only five feet away from me. He should’ve at least found another cave or slept way deeper in the cave, like dear old Luna.

Hold on am I a lady?Let me check.....

Pulling the elastics of my pants away from my body for a minute to check if I indeed had the necessary components to be a lady.

Yep, I'm a lady!

Chapter 9

Eli

I won't lie, the past was difficult to recall, but even if it were, I wouldn't have it any other way. Throughout my childhood, present or past, my parents were never loving. They never coddled me as a parent should even when I did do something praiseworthy. They didn't care for me as a parent should. The only parents I had were the countless nannies and butlers both my mother and father sent my way. No, I wasn't a bad kid, at least I hoped not. I tried not to be in their way.

It wasn't that they were bad parents, they didn't hit me. Sure they scolded me for some minor mistakes but, Ideservedit. Although I tried to mind their space, I sometimes disobeyed that simple rule.

I tried drawing. I loved: drawing, designing, and sketching. But my mother hated it. She'd lecture me about not wasting our time with such foolish things as showing her my sketches. How I was squandering my time by doodling nonsense.

She told me she had better things to do than stare at some mindless paintings. And shedid, she had a whole village to protect and guard, to manage and provide for. So I stopped bothering her with those mindless tasks.

But even then I couldn't be a good son, at least not the one she wanted. I hid them, my drawings because I just couldn't stop. In a way, I suppose the flowing twists and floral decoration on each dress I created was my escape.

A way to forget that I could never be the girl my mother always wanted and the true son my father desired. Instead, I was the only useless boy in a village of lionesses and a bastard pup in a den of wolves.

I didn't have to think about the present. I only had to focus on the patterns sketching themselves in my mind, lingering until they were placed on paper. Drawing was the only thing I was good at.

I wasn’t the smartest boy. I wasn't even the bravest. I got picked on by the other village children for being a boy with such little skill. I couldn't pick up a sword, not until my father had taken me in. Even then I was still useless. I didn't know any strategic maneuvering on a battlefield like my younger half-siblings did. All I could do was yield a sword and that was after many days and nights bruising my own hands training.

In my past life, when my village was attacked, I wasn't rescued by a girl with hair as bright as the sun. Instead, I was taken into slavery only to escape my second night in captivity, fleeing into the streets of the cold lands of the Wolf Court. I still remember those days when I had no idea when I was going to eat my next loaf of moldy bread. Or where I could hide from the heavy snowfalls. I struggled to find alleyways with less infected fae.

After many moons of livingofftrash andwithtrash, I was finally discovered by my father, who had sensed me in his territory. It was also around the time, I suppose, that my magic finally developed.

My magic had awoken earlier than most due to the stress and trauma from the hunters. I had used my undeveloped ice gift to break out of my cage. Those thieves must not have known that I had any magic so they only bound my wrists in rope and not the magic confining cuffs. With my father, I took up swords and magic, quickly picking up the skill. I seemed to at least be able to please my father with this ability. But the fact remained that I was his bastard son, and nothing could change that fact. The throne wouldneverbe mine.

Still, I got to spend time with him. He never smiled even in the past, never patted me on the head when I conquered an especially difficult move, never gave me a single indication I was his son, even when the entire kingdom was gossiping about it. No, I was simply his apprentice, training to support him and his son in the future, not that Flynn ever wanted to be king, his fascination was on something else, or rathersomeoneelse as I soon came to realize.

Even though I was never recognized I was glad my father took me in. I was glad because no one else did.

No one else wanted theboycub, especially not an urchin living on the streets. My father took a chance on his bastard son who in all regards heshouldhave killed. Because in the Wolf Court bastards were nothing. They were scum who shouldn't have even been inanyfamily. They wereillegitimate, a symbol of a man'sinfidelity. Ataintto a family lineage. Astainthat needed to be wiped clean.

So I wasglad, I washappy, I was complacent? with my life, for I have others, others to care for, my siblings, though one hated me, I still loved her, she was my blood, my family. I had Everetta to care for too, to watch over. Even in this life, we found one another, she saved me from slavery in this life, even without all her memories intact. I should be glad. Ishould be satisfiedwith what I have, yet- yet I am not. I am angry. I am sad. And I still grieve the loss of my mother in all my lives. I understand that she wasn't the most present mother but she still gave birth to me which meant she must have loved me, in her own way.

Not everyone got to live as lavishly as I did in the past, what with me being an illegitimate child. Not everyone was saved from slavery as I was in this life. And Iameternally grateful. But I couldn't help but question, if only I had morecontrolof my life would I have been able to live a better life?

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