Page 75 of Wicked Thieves
“I asked if you would like to accompany me in deliveringthese tonics I concocted for the king. I was on my way to his chambers before you arrived, I’d hate to make him wait.”
The king. She was to see the king now after barely arriving to the castle. By the look on Aeric’s face he didn’t look all that pleased either but he hid his displeasure well.
Anelize nodded, practicing an air of calm by granting the physician a pleasant smile. “Of course.”
As they made to step out into the hall, Horia noticed that the captain began following them. Noticing the look he was giving him, Aeric supplied, “I was on my way to pay the king a visit, per his request. I’ve deprived him of my company long enough. You won’t mind if I accompany you now, do you, Horia?”
“N-not at all!” Horia chimed, though Anelize sensed there was some hesitancy on his part as he pushed forward, hurrying down the hall.
The king’s chambers were in the northern wing of the castle.
Two Watchmen were posted at the doors that led into the king’s rooms, and Anelize forced herself not to react when she realized she knew them. Idris and Adan stood like marble statues on either side, barely paying any of them mind as Horia pushed past the doors and revealed a large circular room with rich mahogany bookshelves embedded into the walls, filling the air with a rich leather smell that only belonged to the books filling them. The ivory ceiling where the shelves did not reach was painted in intricate patterns of branches with vibrant leaves and curling amaranths, their petals ruby red. To her left, a hearth hadbeen lit, warming the space as Aeric encouraged her to enter before him.
“You’re late, Horia,” a deep voice drawled from across the room where she noticed shadows danced along the tapestry of the wall behind him. The patterns black and white where she noticed flora of all kinds had been woven into the tapestry, along with a white deer in the center with an arrow protruding from its neck, its fur blood red where it ran down to the edge of the tapestry like a river.
Seated before it, in a leather wingback chair behind a desk, was none other than King Stefan Amaranth. He was dressed in the finery befitting someone of his title, dark clothes made from the finest fabric and a fur coat draped over his shoulders. His silver crown gleamed against the light in the fireplace as it sat proudly atop his short flaxen hair. His eyes were the same color as Prince Castian’s only they held no light, no warmth, no kindness.
He wasn’t a young man by any means but the honed features on his face, the outline of his brows, and almost bored expression he regarded the physician with gave the impression that he was incredibly dissatisfied by the former’s tardiness.
“M-my apologies your highness!” Horia quickly bowed to his king, motioning for Anelize to do the same. “It was not my intention to be late. You see, Captain Maren has just brought me a new assistant. It has been especially difficult tending to the Watchmen, with so many wounded yesterday.”
The king’s voice was smooth, almost detached in all feeling as he asked, “Captain Maren?”
“Yes, your highness,” Aeric said as he stepped forward and bowed.
“Have you come to report on these rebels that have been running amuck in my kingdom?”
“We are in the process of rounding up the remaining sympathizers in the city,” Aeric drawled, his mask and the cruel smile on his lips making him nearly unrecognizable.
And yet, she knew him.
Knew there was absolutely no pleasure in what he did. The game he played so perfectly.
“Good. I want no trouble to arise during the Senin. You know how important it is,” King Amaranth said, resting his chin atop his fist as he stared Aeric down with those depthless eyes. “The council has thought to ask me to postpone the celebration.”
For a brief moment, Anelize saw the way Aeric tensed at his words. The implication they meant for all of them.
“Is that what you wish to do, your highness?” Aeric asked.
“I see no difference between having the Senin this coming week or any other day. The rebels have dwindled considerably since you and your men have gradually wiped them from the map. Now they have been reduced to mere numbers while we have an army of Watchmen ready to slay them all at the slightest infraction. The raids the council recommended were proof of that, as I’m sure you know. If there was any cause for concern about the safety of my…treasures, then surely you would have been the first to announce it to me. Do I have cause for concern, Captain Maren?” the king challenged.
Aeric took his time in answering the king, looking as if he were truly weighing the king’s words. Playing the part as he appeared to contemplate the answer with the upmost consideration.
“The rebels, while no longer as strong as they have oncebeen, are still dangerous. Underestimating them would be exactly what they would want. They would take advantage of any opportunity to attack us. They do tend to linger in the shadows, after all. Be it today or on the night of the Senin, it matters not. The Watchmen have trained tirelessly for that day to arrive with great anticipation. Until then, we shall be ready.”
Satisfied with his answer, the king then said, “The Senin has never been postponed, not even on my father’s last year of life did he wish to be pushed aside and forgotten by the very subjects who venerated him after all he’d done for his kingdom before I came to rule. It is not a tradition I intend on breaking now. You may continue tending to your duties then, Captain.”
Being dismissed by the king, Aeric bowed once more and straightened. Casting her one quick glance that screamed for her to be careful before he strode out of the king’s chambers and closed the door behind them.
With Aeric gone, suddenly the room felt entirely too small, and she forced herself to ignore that gnawing feeling that some vital part of herself was missing. The feeling only lasted so long until King Amaranth shifted his gaze to Horia, a silent command it would seem, as the physician hurried over to the king’s side.
His hands trembling as he quickly reached for a steaming ceramic pot of water that had been left upon the desk beside a single cup sitting upon a saucer.
The king’s eyes met hers and his voice made the physician startle when he asked, “And what is your name, girl?”
“Anya, your highness.”
“Anya,” the king repeated her name in a slow caress that made every inch of her tense. Every word he spoke waspronounced carefully; every syllable and intonation granted the proper space they required to assert his dominance.
