VILLAIN

Chapter 20

 "Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked for what felt like the billionth time that morning.

Seacrest Palace loomed ominously in front of our group, its beauty overshadowed by its mass. It seemed to me like we were walking straight into a giant stronghold, and I wasn't too confident that we were going to emerge as nonchalant as most of us were now. The mermaids gaped at the building with awe, their curious ignorance once again proving itself as they stared and stared at the castle. Tiger Lily looked on with mild interest, her big eyes assessing every detail, and Oscar, of course, didn't look the slightest bit concerned that he was about to bring a Peasant warrior, his illegitimate brother, three mermaids, and a Villain into his home. The only person who shared my wariness was Max, whose right hand reached for the hilt of his sword, only to realize it wasn't there and curl into a shaky fist. I got the impression his trepidation was for an entirely different reason, but I couldn't help taking comfort in the fact that I wasn't the only one worried about this venture.

Oscar shrugged in response to my question, approaching the palace doors. "It will be fine, I assure you. All we're doing is heading up to my room to fetch the fairy and your belongings."

I chewed on my lip, anxiety knotting in my stomach. I didn't like this. I didn't like this one bit. There was just something about the king of Seacrest that made my skin crawl – something about the way he looked at me. It wasn't unlike the looks Max had given me towards the beginning of our journey, but it was somehow quite different at the same time. Where Max's eyes had just been prideful and angry when they rested on me, his father's seemed almost...hungry – as though he was a lion preparing to devour me. I shivered.

"Don't worry," Oscar assured me as he pulled open the huge doors, correctly assuming the reason for my nervousness. "It'll be quick. I doubt we'll even see my father."

But no sooner had the words left his mouth than we did exactly that. King Douglas descended upon us, a sickening, fake smile plastered on his face.

"Oscar, my boy," he greeted, clapping his son on the back stiffly.

Then he turned his attention to our misfit crew. It might've been my overactive imagination, but it seemed like his eyes rested on me with their hungry gleam longer than on any of the others.

"And what have you brought to our humble abode?" he asked, the false humility making my neck muscles tense.

Oscar smiled easily, turning to introduce us. But behind his calm exterior, I could've sworn I saw a hint of anxiousness.

"These, father, are my friends. We are just passing by to retrieve their luggage," he told the king.

King Douglas watched us calculatingly. "Are you sure I cannot offer them something to eat? Perhaps some more...suitable clothing to change into?"

Max's jaw clenched, and again I saw him reach for his nonexistent sword. "That won't be –"

"I insist, I insist!" the king interrupted, ushering us inside.

A butler and maid scurried in from where they'd been standing, offering quick bows and curtsies to Prince Oscar and the king and then waiting for further instructions. The butler was tall and thin, with blondish hair and an immaculate black suit. The maid wore a strict black dress and white apron, her stout form cinched in tightly. Her graying hair was tied back in a severe bun, and her face was wrinkled with frown lines.

"Frederick – take my son and this...boy to Oscar's chamber. Bertrand will meet you there. Then go tell the chef to whip up something for our guests. And Gertrude – escort the ladies to the guest chambers," King Douglas ordered.