Curse of Blades (Blades #1)

Chapter 25

[Note: This was originally included in Curse of Blades: Book 3, but as of July 28th, 2021, I began combining the 3 Curse of Blades books into a single one.]

"You must do this, or your parents will die."

The dark-clad figure loomed over the girl. It spoke with the deep voice of a man, but for all she could tell it could very well be a creature from a nightmare. A horrible stench of blood assaulted her nose the moment she stepped outside from the kitchens, and neither the moon nor the lantern by the door did anything to illuminate the figure's shadowed face.

And he spoke with such an air of doom that she could barely breathe, even if the smell of him hadn't been gagging her.

"Do you understand?" it demanded.

She nodded frantically. It made a strange, impatient sound and she hastened to assure the creature with her voice. "Y-Yes," she stuttered. "I understand."

The figure almost seemed to laugh. "Good," it declared, then stepped away and vanished into the night.

The lantern beside the door sputtered out. She grabbed frantically for the handle and practically fell back inside the castle at Ryal. Her hands trembled as she threw the lock and hurried back to the kitchen. The thought of cooking made her stomach churn, but she needed the company of her fellow servants.

Not that she could tell them anything. She had been doomed to choose treason or murder.

***

Wildas dreaded speaking to his father. Grand King Deandre would no longer be able to pressure him to find spouses now that he had finally made his own choices, but Deandre would be happier for himself than for his son. It needed to be done, though, he knew.

So he left Coulta's chamber shortly before dawn, stopping at his own room to bathe and put on clean clothes. Rohan joined him in the passageway to the Grand King's office and remained silent for once. The door stood open, welcoming the advisers who would attend the daily meeting. Since Ashnil's failed assassination attempt, the meetings had been taking place over breakfast in the office, instead of later in the morning. Inside they found Grand King Deandre, Queen Yvona, Prince-General Pavle of the Navy, and Prince-General Ruairi of the Army already there.

Wildas nodded to his uncles and his mother, then approached his father's desk. He bowed his head and said quietly, "I'd like to speak to you privately."

Deandre rose from his desk. "With me, then."

Wildas followed him into the adjoining bedchamber, which was significantly larger than his own. The rising sun did nothing to add warmth to the cavernous room with its dead hearth fire. Deandre closed the door and motioned for Wildas to speak.

"I've made my choice."

Deandre actually looked mildly surprised. "That was faster than I expected."

Wildas met his gaze levelly. "You don't want to know who they are?"

Deandre smiled. "I think I know. The three who saved your life, of course. Who else would you choose in such a short time?"

That was certainly a good question. "You approve, then?"

Deandre reached out and clasped his son's shoulder, a completely uncharacteristic move. "Yes. Come, let's announce it."

The room was filled with the usual members of Deandre's court when they returned to the office, including Second King Shelton, who gave Wildas a knowing look and patted Yvona's knee when she gave them all a curious glance. Servants were just entering with trays of breakfast for everyone, and Wildas remained standing with his father until everyone had been served and the servants had left. Wildas looked longingly at the tray that had been left at his seat, despite the fact that his stomach was tight with anxiety. Why was he so nervous?