Page 39 of King Foretold
“I got this.” I wave my hand and summon two earthenware teacups from my room in the Sunset Pavilion. He’s not the only one who picked up some practical magic. “If these tiny cups work for tea, they’ll work for coffee.”
“Good thinking.” His expression turns suspiciously bland as he lifts the carafe. “I asked Rachel to add plenty of cream and sugar, just the way you like it.”
This time I do gasp and slap my hand over the cup. I don’t care if the hot coffee scalds my hand. “Don’t youdarepour a drop of that atrocity in here.”
“Relax.” Ethan smiles at me with such affection that I almost smile back. “Rachel knows you drink your coffee black. She would’ve boxed my ear if I asked for cream and sugar in it.”
“Asshole.” I watch him pour the nectar of the gods into my cup. I take a reverent sip, then groan, “Fuck me.Now I can die happy.”
“At least finish your steak before you die,” he says drily.
I pretend to ignore him and drink more coffee, then I turn my attention to my steak and eggs. Is thereanythingas satisfying as popping the yolk on a sunny-side up egg? I slice a generous strip of steak and dip it into the yolk, my mouth salivating for the perfect bite.
“Mmm.” For a moment, there is nothing but me and the meal I secretly feared I’d never have again. Then I pick a safe topic to discuss. “How is Rachel doing?”
“Running a tight ship as always.” Ethan glances up from his dish. “She misses you.”
“I do too,” I admit quietly. “Where did you tell her I was?”
“That you enrolled in a specialty academy with a demanding schedule.”
“Vague, yet true.” I nod, impressed. “Good one.”
“Thanks.” Ethan raises his teacup in a playful toast, then takes a sip of his coffee. He immediately puts it down with a grimace.
I tuck my chin to hide my smile. He has a sweet tooth that I find adorable. I wish I could get him some sugar for his coffee, but I don’t have free access to the kitchens at the cadet barracks. There’s so little I can call my own in this realm.In any realm for that matter.
The melancholy thought sneaks up on me and rattles me, and the steak turns to dust in my mouth. I wish I could call Ethan mine. Even if there is no place in all the worlds for me, he could be my home, and that would be enough. Too bad even that much isn’t possible.
The Sign
The King of Mountains flipped over the table laden with food and threw a porcelain bowl across the room. It shattered against the wall, and the jagged pieces rained down over the three cowering court ladies. But none of them moved, other than to tremble in fear, as they knelt with their foreheads pressed to the floor.
“You bitches expect me to eat this trash you served me?” he snarled. “You dare insult your king?”
“N ... never, Your Majesty. We w ... would never,” the oldest of the gungnyeos stuttered without raising her head.
The king gripped her low bun and jerked her head up. “Now you contradict me?”
“Please, Your M ... Majesty.” She sobbed. “I beg your forgiveness.”
The sheer terror in her eyes appeased the king for the briefest second, but his lust for suffering roared back to life when a younger court lady whimpered from the floor. He shoved away the old gungnyeo, who cried out as she fell atop the shattered porcelain bowl. The king salivated at the sight of her blood and picked up a sharp, pointed piece as he turned to the other gungnyeo.
He held her chin in a punishing grip and forced her to look at him. He saw her fear in the whites around her pupils and calmly pressed the tip of the broken porcelain into her exposed throat. When her eyes nearly rolled back, he laughed.
“It would be an honor for you to die at the hands of your king, would it not?” The king licked his lips as a crimson drop of blood rolled down the court lady’s pale neck. “Would you like for me to take your pathetic, worthless life?”
He forgot that even animals fought for their lives when they were cornered. So when the young gungnyeo thrashed against him and the sharp porcelain slipped in his hand, he instinctively tightened his grip on his crude weapon. The king hissed, wincing in pain. Annoyed at the interruption to his playtime, he glanced down at his hand.
“No.” With a beastly scream, he brought down the broken porcelain on the gungnyeo’s throat and threw her twitching body aside. “Out. Get out of my sight. Now.”
The two remaining court ladies each grabbed an arm of the dying female and scrambled out of the room, dragging her behind them. He was too distraught to take pleasure in the streak of blood left on the floor. His hand stayed clenched at his side for a long while. He had to be mistaken. It had to be that lowly gungnyeo’s blood on him. Even so, he shook with dread as he opened his hand and stared down at his palm.
The King of Mountains wanted to unsee the sign—the sign that the Kingdom of Mountains had accepted his son as its true king—but the blood continued to well from a gash that should never have been.
Chapter Eleven
Ethan and I sit with our backs against the wooden railing of the pagoda and look out at the serene lily pond. The only thing saving me from a food coma is the pot of coffee I drank. Even so, my body feels heavy and relaxed, and I yawn into my hand.
