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THE KING of Averotho was not a kind man.

How could he be, when he had been groomed to become the sort of king who would tear down the world to make his father's inventions become a reality? How could he be, when his own father had used and traded dark magic until it killed, killed, killed?

No, Kaeberon was not kind. He hadn't been alive for centuries because he had a soft heart. He had survived centuries because he cut down anyone and everyone who stood against him and everything Averotho stood for.

The Queen of Anlithamy would be no different, he was sure. When he stared at himself in the mirror in his bedchamber, he saw the face of a ruthless man. He saw the face of someone who would conquer Anlithamy.

There was a knock at his door, and then it was being pushed open. Only one person would choose to come in uninvited, and so Kaeberon did not turn to greet the visitor. "Erowillric. Are our guests ready?"

King Kaeberon had groomed his own child, much like his father had done with him. He had trained Erowillric in all things political, physical, and magical. Including how to handle the technology that would soon rule all of the fae realm.

His son was his shadow, his miniature. He had no doubts in his mind where Erowillric's loyalty lay.

And yet, his son had been strange as of late. Not quite the ruthless prince he was raising.

"They are waiting, father."

"And? You did bring them to the study last night, did you not? Soften the hearts of our little enemies, did you?"

Erowillric had many tells. The clenching of his jaw was one of them. "I did. I shared our plans, like you wished. I wouldn't really agree that her heart is softened, but she knows."

The king placed his heavy crown on his head. "Spit it out, Erowillric. I can tell you want to say something."

"I think you're moving too fast. Andorra is young, but she could be an ally. Give her a few decades, and she'll know more about what she's doing. Forcing her hand is only going to make her less agreeable."

The King stood. He had a political advisor, and his son was not one. He truthfully did not care to listen to what his son had to suggest when it came to ruling. Not until Erowillric was older, more experienced, more cutthroat. When Kaeberon looked at his son, he saw someone who could do great things, but he also saw a child.

Young. Rash. Irresponsible. "You like her. That doesn't change what has to be decided today. The moment she sees herself as an equal is the moment we allow Anlithamy to think they could win in a war against us. No, keeping her meek and pliable is important. Showing her a taste of fear is important. I will not be changing my mind, Erowillric."

Ero said nothing else. How could he, when his father was like this? He was used to how his father moved and acted. Still, he tried again. "There's no need to move. If you give me more time, she'll come around to it. Anlithamy thinks we're cutting people open for their powers-"

The king shrugged. "And we once did do that. But she'll soon see that bowing down to us is for the best interest of everyone. Let Anlithamy think a simple life is best. They are fools for not advancing with our technology."

Ero bit back his retort. He bowed to his father instead, forcing himself not to think about last night. Forcing himself not to think about the way Andorra's face looked when he'd chosen not to answer her question. Do you want to be my friend because of me, or because of Oberon?

He forced himself to not think of the Queen's guard at all.

He followed his father to the Grand Room. When they opened the door, Andorra and her guard were already sitting in there at the large table, waiting patiently. Ero let his eyes slide over Andorra for a moment, taking in her anger, and then looked over at Oberon. The guard tilted his chin up in a challenge.

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