Page 70 of Royal Lies

Plus, all her suitors were rebels to the crown. They had betrayed my royal family in one way or another.

Hmm, now that I think about it, it might have been to make my brothereven morejealous than simply just dating a randomfae off the streets. Getting together with one of his enemies would really tick my dear elder brother off.

"Anyway, we're here. Welcome to the underground market." Akasuki gestured to the stairs leading to the basement of some slum building.

We both gazed at the little auction they had in the black market.

Now it was time to get that gift for my dear Everetta. My little apology for being so late coming back to her.

Chapter 21

Lucarious

I could still remember her.

Her kind gaze, the soft lifting of her lips as she stroked my cheeks. "Shh, it's alright; Mommy will always be here for you." I closed my eyes, beaming back at her. My naive, ignorant self truly worshiped her. I had no clue as to what her words meant that night. Pulling the covers up to my chin like she always taught me, I nodded, “Mommy, can you tell me about the little prince again? I really liked that story."

Her somber galaxy-colored eyes gazed back down at me as she pressed her lips together, “Sure, anything for my little Son of Ra." Lowering down onto my mattress, my mother made herself comfortable on the side of my bed. The gold on her kalasiris gleamed from the moon’s beams. The soft black silk cushions folded in against her weight. Clutching the edges of my covers close to my chin in my chubby little hands I eagerly awaited for the bedtime story.

"Once upon a time, there was a boy, who had a loving family. His farm was so beautiful, filled with fresh daisies, lotuses, and chrysanthemums. His family loved him. They adored him and gave him everything he ever wanted. One day, the king came for him. He wanted him to marry his daughter, for the boy, the son of a farmer and peasant lady, had a special ability, one the king had just found out. That ability had the power to change the entire realm if he wished to use it, one that was coveted by so many fae that they would die for it. You see, the boy could see the future. He had predicted the outcomes of wars. He was very useful to the king. Knowing this, the boy chose to go with the king for protection and for his family, so that they could live a better life."

"I never understood that," Pressing down on my lower lip my brows scrunched close together.

"Why leweve? Didn't he wuv his famuie?” I pushed on, my mother never did explain that part to me.

I could read the hesitation in her eyes even then, as she cleared her throat. It was as if she was trying to choke back long-forgotten memories.

"They did, they loved him so much, and he them. But you see, sometimes you have to do things you don't want to so you can live, so you can help others. That's why the boy left. He was renowned as this great oracle, the first ever to grace the lands." My mother smiled wistfully, coming in close to tickling my stomach under the blankets. I had always been weak at that spot when I was young. Over the years, I'd learned to hold back my laughter to rain in my forced joy. But I’ll always laugh for her.

"Stop, it Mommy, that twickles." I giggled, something I would never show the boys. We always played together in the garden, back when I had thought they were really my friends. The second son of a duke, the firstborn of a baron, and the heir of a newly formed noble house. I was adored, and admired, with their false smiles and pretend laughter at my jokes.

My mother continued, “The boy was useful in a way, you see the king wasn't truly a king yet, but he wanted to be one. Which is why he needed the boy."

At the time I had only thought this story was just that, a story. Not that it was about her. She wasn't the princess though, no she was the boy, only the boy wasn't really a boy in the story just as the princess wasn't really a princess but a prince, a heartless, selfish, uncaring bastard. My dear mother had the uncanny and somewhat useless gift to lie. The only thing she was able to hide from my father. I only found out about it after discovering the truth behind the bedtime story.

"With the farmer boy in his hands, the king won many battles and then he won the war. The king, with all the power of an oracle in his hands, claimed a land that was never his to claim. In time the boy fell for the girl, the princess. He trusted the princess's honey words and sweet promises. He truly thought he loved her. When the king got the crown-" My mother sniffed pausing a little as if this story was sad, but I knew the ending. I heard it a million times before. It wasn't sad, but I came to realize it was all about perspective.

"The princess mawied the boy, and he became a pwince, and den he became a king becauwse the pwevious king had bewecome eww. So the princess had to towak the throne. Den she gave her husband the crown. Den he used his prwedictions and wuled evewything. Someday I wanna be thwat pwince, I'm gonna bewcome a king and ruleevewythingjust like the boy." I finished watching my mother's gaze harden a little, to my confusion. Clearing her throat my mother stood almost abruptly.

"Yes, of course, you arehisson." My mother bit out, a hint of sadness hidden in her tone as she turned her back to leave. At the time I didn't know why my mother had become irritated so suddenly. When I reached out to her, my tiny hands gripping onto the hem of her skirt she simply stared emptily back at me, “I'll bew au good king, I prowomis Mommy."

I could see it even then, even under the heavy makeup she wore. The small tint of purple just below her eye, under her arms, her left cheek.

I hated being calledhisson. I wanted her to call meherson, not that bastard's. Smiling tight-lipped she snatched her skirt from my grip as my hopeful gaze clouded over with a press of my own lips. "I'm sowy that I remind you of him, Mommy. But I'm nuwat going to be him! I prowomis.” I muttered as I stared at my reflection in the empty glass by my bed stand, no longer able to meet her gaze. My bright red curls and burning garnet eyes werethe mirror image of my so-called father’s. The man who'd beat my mother and me anytime he could because he could.

"Goodnight, Lucarious." She choked out, causing my small frame to tear up. My mother always called me by my name when she was upset with me. She'd call me her little Son of Ra when she wasn't. I wanted her to always call me her little Son of Ra.

Nodding, I quietly slipped under my covers and drifted to sleep.

The vision blacked out and I entered another time of my life.

I don't know how long I must have been asleep before guards had yanked me from my bed, my little arms wrestled against their meaty grip. My mother and I had still been close at the time it all started but my baby slurs had been beaten out of me. “It was unbecoming of a Phoenix Prince to still speak like a child”, so my father claimed.

"Let me go! Your fucking bastards. I'll have your throats slit if you don't release me. Don't you dare touch me!" I was repeating what I'd heard my father shout at one of his underlings. When he used it the man had released my father at once. Needless to say, that trick didn't work with a mere prince.

Things soon became more muddy when I saw my father at the entrance of the dungeon chambers. A large thick concrete table stood dead center in the room. Metal cuffs were anchored to the slab on each corner. I was soon chained to the said stone table. "Let me go!" I cried, nearly tearing my esophagus out as I spat my words at the bastard, my biological father.

I had thought this was just another one of his punishments for me. No matter what I did he always found a reason to punish me. Despite knowing this I still tried to reason with the man, "I didn't do shit today, you have no reason to punish me!" Like always my father showed no emotion, no nothing. It was only then I noticed my mother behind him. Her raven purple hair and galaxy eyes held mine before quickly looking away.

---