Page 85 of Queen of the Night
His gaze gleams with promised violence as he sits back and crosses an ankle over the opposite knee, the epitome of classy ease. But there’s scheming in his eyes—the very eyes I avoid for the pain they trigger.
“I’m not fit to be a queen,” I say honestly, risking that I’ll convince him and he’ll end up killing me.
“You are; you just don’t see it.” He searches my eyes. “Yet.”
I hear no noise from outside, and the deathstalker sleeping in the corner? I haven’t hearditeither, but I imagine it’ll wake soon, and I’d prefer to be gone.
In an effort to hurry things along, I blurt out, “You saidyouwere the heir to the throne.”
A smile curls one side of his lips. He’s handsome, but the darkness he carries and the fact that my core burns with hatred toward him for murdering Ikar makes his smile worthless to me.
“Why was it given to Ricard?” I’m more intrigued by the story than I should be.
“Our father thought Ricard was more worthy, but he never gave me a chance to truly prove myself.” His smile drops. “I attempted to retake the throne and was banished along with my many followers.”
“And then…?” I prompt.
“After years of war between us, Ricard approached Lucentia knowing that if she gave them lucent magic it would secure his position on the throne and stop the wars. She did. I, with no other resort but unwilling to give up hope, approached Gloam.” He spreads his hands wide. “And as you can see, he gave us gloam, magic of the shadows.”
I try to process the information, but he doesn’t wait for my mind to catch up.
“Before we could learn to truly manipulate the magic we’d been given in order to fight back, Ricard locked our people away behind a wall of lucent so thick we had no way out for hundreds of years. But suddenly, years ago, it began toweaken. We salivated like starving dogs, watching it wear thin, knowing that lucent magic was weakening.”
It’s quiet between the two of us for a moment.
Then he begins again, quietly this time. “The first time I stepped through that prison wall, through the weak lucent that no longer had power over me, I saw the land I’ve fought for…yearned for.” The distant look in his eyes makes it appear that he’s somewhere far away while still sitting before me. “I’ve traveled it these past few years, you know. Refamiliarized myself with every part of it…”
A bud of compassion sprouts, and I quickly rip its roots from my heart. His story is twisty, and I have difficulty sorting out the wrongs from the rights, but I refuse to let down my walls. Instead of wondering if these people may indeed have a right to our kingdom, I need to figure out his motives, what makes him tick, how far he’ll let me push him. I need to figure out the boundaries so I know which ones I can break.
I knowingly test his patience with another assumption.
“In our kingdom, gloam is only thriving because it’s like mold, eating away at what’s good.”
My comment has the opposite effect—a wide smile has his teeth gleaming in the shadows.
“That’s simply because no one there has the power to wield it. It only destroys when left to its own devices. Lucentia is the one who started this, you know. Gloam simply tried to make things fair. Gloam, when controlled, can build beauty as you’ve never seen. I’ll show you… soon. Not tonight, but soon.”
His way of seeing things has me feeling uncomfortable. That can’t be right, can it?
“So if our kingdom leaves lucent behind and begins to use gloam, all will be well?”
Have I just solved our problem?
He chuckles. “Only those gifted the magic of Gloam can use it.”
“You plan to kill an entire kingdom of people?” I ask with horror.
“Some may die, and it would be as they deserve for their treatment of my people all these years. But no, I’m much more merciful than that. Those who will peacefully comply will simply be without magic. Absents, as your people would call them. We will make adjustments to care for them.” He waves a hand as if it’ll be a simple matter. “At this point, lucent is so weak they should hardly have any difficulty adjusting.”
Those who peacefully comply? I think of the many people I know whose lives depend on their lucent magic, and those who loved Ikar as king. They wouldneveraccept this man as their ruler… which meansmanywould die.
Including Darvy and Rhosse.
He stands and extends a hand to me. “Come. It’s time I show you what my people have been subjected to at the hands of Ricard and his descendants.”
I stand on my own, keeping my distance. He smirks, unhurt by my rejection, and leads me out the door. The misty hallways are eerie, and we only pass one servant who quickly bows to both of us on his way toward the dining room we left earlier. It’s quiet and lonely, and I don’t like it.
We arrive at a large black door with an enormous lock along its edge, covered by gloam so dense I can hardly see through it… and is there sand on the floor? I rub the toe of my boot in it. Sure enough, I feel the grittiness scrape across the hard surface.
