Crown of Blood

TRIX

The cold never left.

Trix knew he could function normally, but he could also feel the seed planted inside him by Lucille the moment he'd tried to draw some out of the energy from Kat. It was even more invasive than his brush with Wolfbane had been. Had Trix known what lay dormant inside Kat, he would've never touched her.

But in that moment, when she had aimed all her magic at Jinx, it felt like he didn't have much of a choice.

Cage had helped him escape his own mind and had reduced the threat to something minimal. Yet, it was most obviously still there. Trix felt it in the way his hands froze, even if he wore gloves.

"Yer a weird one, ain't ya?" One-Legged Pete chewed on tobacco while sitting on a crate outside an apothecary in the poorer side of town.

Trix sat on the ground, his back against the wall, surveying the crowd. He just hummed at the affirmation, the words not important enough to warrant him coming out of his own head.

"With yer gloves and yer creepy eyes."

"What are you getting at, you old baboon?" Trix mumbled. He still wore his eye patch, and this time, his green eye was free to observe his surroundings.

"I heard yeh've been going around town spreading rumors." Old Pete spit out his tobacco and took another mouthful to chew.

Trix had known the man since he was nothing but an urchin on the streets of Valona. He was one of the few people who was kind enough to throw leftover food his way. That did not mean that they were friends, but Pete still knew his way on the streets and after being gone for so long, Trinx needed the connection.

"I haven't been spreading rumors. I've been listening to them."

"Ah, naw. I heards yeh claim that this imposter on the throne is the rightful king. That's dangerous, it is."

"I don't know if you're aware, but he apparently is the rightful king."

"He ain't wearing no crown without a coronation."

"There will be a coronation." The words only intensified the chill inside him, as if the news didn't please the lost piece of soul still residing within his being.

"Hah! I'll believe that when I sees it!"

Pete had always been a moron like that, so Trix didn't see a point in setting him straight. Instead, he focused on that slither of cold, trying to see if he could at least poke it.

"Watcha wearing gloves for?" Pete snorted after a few minutes of silence.

"This place is filthy." The answer came easy, he'd used it a million times before.

"They seem to be fine leather, tho."

"Try to take anything off me, you old goat, and I'll leave you floating belly down in the sewers."

Pete laughed, the sound ragged and breathy. "Yeh always had balls bigger than yer head."

Except this time he could truly back it up, unlike when he used to be a poor defenseless child. "Want to test me?"

"Nah." The old man continued to chew on his tobacco, looking out into the street as well.

People seemed less harassed than they had a mere week ago. Trix had no idea what Cage had been thinking, striding out of the palace with no guards, but his speech and the truth of his legacy had spread like wildfire among the people who weren't there to witness it. Surprisingly enough, the poorer subjects were most inclined to hope that something would finally change.

They even ignored General Harkiss' soldiers who lately filled the streets. But they weren't harassing the poor, not anymore. Instead, they were rushing from one training ground to the next, barely sparing anyone a glance. The people liked that, and rumors started flying that the king had finally humbled the proud general.