Heir to Light | Fablehaven AU

XI - let him rot

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The deep lines on King Dalgorel's forehead engaged in perfect formation to create the irate facial expression trained on Seth. Veins rippled on the king's forearms as he held his embellished sword to Seth's neck.

Out of the corner of Seth's eye, he tracked Garreth's movement as the prince took a step forward. He froze when his father cast a glance backward. No, come on, Garreth. Seth's plan had quite literally fizzled to a swordpoint.

"Father." The prince took a deep breath and straightened his posture. "This isn't right."

Oh, so Garreth was on the right side? Good job, Kendra. Now, if only Eve would come save him from this sword.

"Silence, Garreth." The king eyed Seth up and down. Every time Seth inhaled, the sword scratched his skin.

"Please, King Dalgorel." Kendra twisted in the guards' grasp. "I promise, we will–"

"For the love of everything sacred, properly muffle the witch!"

Seth slightly tilted his head to the right to see more behind him. The sword scraped his neck. At the king's command, one of the guards wrapped his hand around Kendra's mouth. She thrashed and the guard adjusted his stance to accommodate. She slipped through his hand's grasp, but the other guard silenced her with a backhand and grabbed her. The muffling guard removed his hand for a moment so she could spit out the blood running down her face, before replacing it over her mouth.

The prince flinched—a mortal sin. Garreth's eyes were locked onto Kendra, but hers were blinking heavily and unfocused. It was shock, and, possibly, side effects of the crystals. Ronodin, the traitorous bastard, had told Seth anecdotal tales of sickness due to suppressed magic.

"Father, please—"

"Garreth, that...is...enough!" Dalgorel's voice reverberated throughout the high walls. "If you are too weak, too enamored with the witch to see that the right decision is execution, you will never be king."

"It is not weakness to be humane, you are being cruel."

The king lowered his sword and just for a moment, Seth believed Garreth was going to save him with his words, but then the king raised the sword higher until it rested above Seth's head and swung down. Garreth lunged, and the background blurred.

The blade gleamed in the stained glass colors of blue, purple, green, and yellow and all Seth could imagine was how red, how bloody, it was about to be.

The guard's gloved hand muffled Kendra's sob.

The stained glass reflections coalesced into cold steel as the sword rushed towards Seth's eyes only to stop to hover above his nose. If he stuck his tongue out, he could taste it. During an unseasonably cold winter in Fablehaven, the court was able to acquire the novelty of an ice statue for a festival. Unfortunately, due to the satyrs' dare, the statue had to be wheeled out with Seth stuck to it into his bedroom until it melted. The same childish urge rose for a split second in Seth before panic took over.

His terror-filled tunnel vision widened just enough to catalogue the blockade impeding his imminent death—Garreth and the prince's blade flush against the king's neck. Yes! Garreth wasn't a prick! Good. That was good. What was also insane is that that could have just been the end of Seth's entire life. But, that was okay, it was probably only a slight delay.

Glancing between the royals at hand, Seth steadfastly refused to move an inch.

So, this was how it was going to end. King Dalgorel's sword at his throat, and Garreth's at his father's.