Page 14 of Crowned A Traitor
“Yes, well, they should have consulted me first before sending me a heartless daughter.”
“I thought it would be best coming from me,” Klara said.The Queens owe me big time, Klara kept the thought to herself.
“Stubborn like your old man,” Lucifer said, impressed by Klara’s show of strength. She could have offered the Queens up on a plate and killed three birds with one stone, but she needed someone to rule over Malum if she were to escape. The Queen’s demise would only accelerate her succession.
“They will answer for this. You should have had back up.” Lucifer clenched his jaw.
“Whatever you feel is necessary, but can I have that heart? Kind of dying over here.” Klara dropped to one knee as Lucifer and Frendall’s faces blurred together.
The King reached out to take Klara’s hand, but as he touched her skin, she couldn’t control her strength. Her Father’s Human appearance evaporated, and his scaled skin and black leathered wings appeared. He snatched his hand away as though she had burnt him.
“I’m sorry, I had no control,” Klara panted, knowing how he loathed his true form. Lucifer straightened his tie as he returned to his glamoured appearance. Business professional he liked to call it. Only the King’s red eyes and black fingernails gave away what lurked beneath the surface.
“Help her,” Lucifer ordered, and Frendall didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her waist. “Up you get,” he teased, lifting Klara back onto her feet, and she didn’t have the strength to remove his arm. Klara expected some scales to appear on him. Most Commanders had scales grafted to their skin for added protection, but there were none. Klara searched his face for any markers of his corrupted soul, but there was nothing, Frendall remained the same.
“My office,” the King said, leading the way as the Doomed opened the doors for them. “I send you away for your protection, and you return in such a state,” Lucifer preached to himself.
The hallways narrowed and widened as the serpent-like leviathans snapped at Klara from the murals.
“Is it the painting or are you just that happy to see me?” Frendall asked Klara as she pushed herself closer to him. “Why hasn’t my touch revealed anything?” Klara’s delirium caused her to think aloud. Frendall ignored her and continued his long strides, and she struggled to keep up as the King took the staircase two steps at a time.
“This would go faster if you would let me carry you?” Frendall said, and Klara shook her head.
“I might not have a heart, but I still have my dignity,” she exhaled as they reached the top of the staircase and the King entered his office.
“Least he didn’t notice my hair.” Klara struggled a smile.
“Still stubborn as ever,” Frendall said.
“Just call me Lucifer.”
“You are nothing like him,” Frendall said, holding her waist as she went to fall forward. Klara’s mouth dropped open as she looked at the open office door.
“Fancy your head on a spike?” Klara asked, wondering how a Commander could utter an insult only a few feet from the King’s door.
“I didn’t mean…” judging from his panicked expression Frendall hadn’t intended to express such an opinion. Klara’s touch might not have revealed any hidden physical traits, but it was revealing his inner thoughts.
Klara shoved him away, afraid he would say something that would get him executed.
“Don’t be ridiculous, we are almost there,” Frendall reached out to help her, but Klara shrugged him off and pulled herself along the jewel-encrusted walls.
“I can manage,” Klara said and avoided a portrait in case she fell into another dimension. Frendall walked beside her, “Enjoying the struggle?”
“Go to Hell.”
“Already here.”
“Glad you both could make it.” The King stood behind the desk in front of his red velvet armchair. World charts lined the walls, and Klara glanced at the soul counter that sat neatly above her Father’s portrait. The numbers were slowly increasing with every passing second.
“Move any slower, and you will be on that counter,” Frendall whispered in her ear. “Even dying she won’t accept help,” Frendall said to the King, and Lucifer exposed his white teeth.
“My daughter is a fighter. I expect nothing less.”
Klara slumped against the armchair opposite the desk, not daring to sit without permission.
“As much as I enjoy being talked about as if I’m not here,” she wheezed, “I would enjoy a new heart more.”
“It’s a pity she lacks patience,” Lucifer said as he walked alongside the shelves riddled with historical texts and grimoires. “I wonder why that is,” Klara replied.
