Page 27 of Crowned A Traitor
“It’s not what you think,” he said, holding his injured side.
“Tell me what I think?” She said, not paying any attention to his injury. He would heal quickly from such a minor wound. Before he had a chance to lie, she reached out and grabbed his arm and Frendall tried to shake her from his mind.
“He isn’t your Father?” Klara asked, seeing another man in his mind, but the image was hazy. “Is he still alive?” Frendall shook his head, “We aren’t related, my Father wasn’t Human, but he isn’t the King.”
“Why lie?” She caught a glimpse of the Port of Malum and the West Caves.His Father must have been a smuggler.“You have seen enough,” he said, backing away.
Klara released her grip seeing the imprint her hand left on him. She didn’t even have time to ask before words poured from him.
“Abadan was his advisor! He couldn’t have it get out that she was fraternizing with undesirables.” He started to pace.
“And he also couldn’t risk losing a powerful ally,” Klara finished for him.
“He took me in.”
Klara knew her Father wouldn’t have wanted Abadan’s loyalty tested by the bond of a mother and a son, so he separated them.
“The branding you saw was from my last escape attempt. I made it to the Forest, even to the caves but some Ogres caught me.” Klara wanted to tell him to take a breath, but he didn’t stop.
“The plan all along has been for me to join the ranks.”
“Why send Abadan to Malum?”
“To punish her, keep her from me and who better to protect his Heir than his most powerful weapon. Plus, he had me to keep her in line, not that the High Queen has ever shown me a kindness.”
“Protect, wouldn’t be the first word that comes to mind,” Klara said. “There is nothing else you are keeping for me?”
Frendall hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Good.”
Now that Klara had her answers, she remembered her snacks.
“Where’s the pantry?” She asked as she walked through a set of doors where it used to be. She felt her stomach rumble, and Frendall followed her.
“Left,” Frendall said as she went to take a right, remembering that would lead her to the dungeon. Klara locked eyes with a Doomed boy who couldn’t have been older than ten. He dropped the tray he was carrying and scampered away down the hall. Klara picked up the tray and brought it back to the kitchen.
“You shouldn’t show them such leniency,” Frendall said. “They have all done something that landed them here.”
“What could that boy have done?”
“Butchered his baby sister in her sleep,” Frendall said, and her blood ran cold. He looked so innocent. “How long has he served?” She asked, and Frendall shrugged, “Maybe a hundred years.”
“I doubt he is the same now,” she said, and Frendall tilted his head.
“I would be driven to murder you if I had to serve the King for a hundred years.” Klara tried to ease the tension but Frendall frowned. The probability of them having to go against each other was too high to make such jokes.
“I thought you were looking for snacks,” Frendall changed the subject, and she looked away from him and continued on her way to the pantry.
The pantry opposite the kitchen was smaller than she remembered. The Doomed preparing ingredients for tomorrow’s dishes froze as they saw her. Before she had a chance to apologize for disturbing their work, they dismissed themselves.
“God, I forgot how much good stuff there is down here,” Klara said.
“Least we don’t worry about cavities.”
“Was that a joke?” She asked, and he rolled his eyes.
Klara looked at the walls lined with candies and foods from every Human country and every plane of existence, Human-produced or otherwise.
The wall furthest from her had a sliding glass door and lock. Behind the casing, Klara eyed the brightly coloured earthly treats. Lucifer had a taste for Human snacks, a trait they both shared.
