Threads of Fate

Chapter 6 ~ Accusations True and False

    When morning dawned, Azael was still making himself scarce around the palace, but for more reasons than one this time. He had gone back to his own room seconds before Tissaia left Kaius's to avoid his presence being detected. If she'd been paying attention, she no doubt would've caught the lingering traces of his scent, but it seemed her worry was great enough to keep her from paying too much attention.

    Truthfully, he'd been more worried about Talarion picking up on it, but he'd heard the male leave just before sunrise, and there had been no unexpected intrusion into his own chambers, so he guessed himself in the clear. Azael was still keeping his distance from all three of them though. He'd been trailing them in equal turns all day, but they barely interacted with one another and certainly said nothing about what had occurred.

    His investigation had been cut short when he was finally tracked down by Gaelen and brought to his father's private council room. Azael hadn't bothered to curse his friend. As a Commander of the Cahirim, Gaelen had duties to uphold, and an order from the King had to be obeyed.

    Of course, that hadn't stopped him from shutting the door in Gaelen's face, preventing the male from accompanying him inside. This was between him and his father, no one else. Azael stood at the opposite end of the table, his arms folded together while he waited for his father to address him. King Mavron was leaning back in his chair, one elbow propped up on its arm so he could rest his face in his palm.

    "I heard what caused you to lash out," the King said at last. "So, she left the ball with the Phoenix, did she?" Azael remained silent while his father appraised him with a scrutinous gaze. "Servants reported she was in his chambers for several hours after the ball, as well as her brother."

    "Their friendship is well known," Azael replied. "It's not a crime for them to be seen together."

    "She was alone with him for an hour before her brother arrived." Azael swallowed, fighting down the sharp stabbing in his gut. "I don't know if anything happened, but the implications are there." King Mavron cocked his head. "It's not the first time I've heard her called a whore you know."

    Azael swallowed the warning snarl that threatened to break from his throat. "There is no proof."

    The King arched a brow. "So you do want to marry her, regardless of the rumors?"

    That caught him off guard. "I..."

    "Because the majority of my advisors suggest it's time to end this betrothal. It's been centuries and still, neither of you will agree to set a date. She is being portrayed as a high reaching whore and you as a fool."

    "We are neither of those things," Azael spat.

    "Then answer the question, Boy. Are you going to marry her?"

    "I...I can't."

    "Then we'll call it off and find someone else."

    Azael shook his head. "No, Father. The problem isn't her. I just can't marry her. I can't marry anyone."

    "Why?" The answer was there, on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't speak it. He never had. Not since the terrible warning had been delivered to him so many years ago. "Why?" The King demanded again.

    "I just can't. Not her, or any female."

    "You would prefer a male instead?"

    "No, that's not it at all."

    "Then what?" His father's voice was cold and unforgiving.

    Not a single part of Azael believed he was asking from a desire to help, or even to understand. No, if he revealed the truth, he already knew what his father would do. He would flaunt it to all of Asterria to prove that he wasn't the Cadhael's curse. He would clear his own name of all guilt. Claim that Orilight wouldn't shine for him because he had fathered such a son. A son destined to doom his own family. His kingdom.