Ruler of Angels | The Royal Legacies Series

| 𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊 |

𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊 |𝖛| 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖇𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝖔𝖗 𝖆 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖋𝖚𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖙

"Felimid?"

"What is it now, Vaeril?"

The human barely got any sleep once again. It was expected though. Being in a new place surrounded by strangers made him this way, it wasn't something new. When he was younger and his family moved around, it was the same.

It took him weeks to settle into the place and in due time they'd be moving again because of his dad. Not that he particularly hated the man, he just didn't respect him anymore. For all he knew the man was dead.

Leaving his mom was the worst decision he ever made. Yet, he knew he also did them a good thing by taking his problems somewhere else.

"Are you ready to go?"

The human sighs to himself and ties his belt a little tighter before he exits the guest room, "I suppose. I will go out through the back. No one will expect me there..."

"Thronal is going with you."

The mercenary stops, "What?"

Vaeril nods, "He'll prove useful. I trust him completely."

"No offense but I don't care if you trust him," the king's eyes lower in defiance, "He seems to be a nice guy, don't get me wrong. He's not an assassin. He's royal. People will notice him a mile away. I don't feel like dying."

"I didn't think of that..."

Felimid groans, "If you make him look different then I can see the possibility in sneaking him in as well. If these guys have a hit on you, Thronal is likely a part of it. He's just the stepping stone to get to you."

"Okay. I can see your point. I'll head to the tailors..."

The mercenary sighs, "No. Hold on. Tell him to come here. I'll have to look through his closet but I can probably set him up to look more like he's a killer."

Vaeril chuckles, "Alright. I'll go get him then."

He moves to the hall and motions for a maid, she walks over and smiles. The human watches as the woman bows and leaves, "Imagine having people to do your jobs for you."

The king looks back and raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean by that?"

Felimid shakes his head, "Nothing. I'll head to Thronal's chambers and start sorting through his closet."

The elf nods but says nothing as the darker man walks past him and starts to speed down the hall, "He's an odd one, isn't he?"

Alova suddenly coming up startles him, "He is."

"If you don't mind, Alova, I must go and see Thronal."

"Do you think it'll work, Vaeril?"

The king shrugs, "If anyone could do it, I assume he would be the one to do it."

Nodding before leaving, Alova heads down the opposite hall, leaving the king to stand there for a minute before thinking about where his advisor was.

On the other side, Felimid was putting different clothes into separate, yet neat, piles on top of the advisor's bed. It was almost impossible to find anything that would be dark enough. Or less royal looking for that matter.

Opening the drawers this time, he sees some black shirts, "Does this man not wear anything dark?"

Sorting through the four shirts offered to him, he just picks the one that has nothing on it, not bothering looking at the others. Thronal comes into the room, "I hope you plan to put my things back."