Kingdom's Vice Series: A Voyage of Vengeance ( #2 2015)

Chapter Thirty-Four: An Account From The Wind

Faeore has seen a great many things, but this is unexpected. She stands in the dimly lit hallway, watching in the shadows as her father's hand entangles itself with a woman's. She gasps in horror, quietly as the king and the anonymous maiden walk hand in hand towards the throneroom. Faeore keeps herself out of sight, and listens intently.

"My King," the woman begins, "how can I ever repay such a gesture? I know that loving another since your wife is not an easy task, let alone someone like me."

He retreats to his throne, "You need not address me so formally, Heida. I am your king, but I am also the man you intend to marry, am I not?"

She chuckles, "If my king commands it of me,"

"There is something about you," he begins, his baritone soothing the room into silence. "Something about your grief comforts me. But do not misunderstand me! What I mean is that your grief has revealed strength and perseverance beyond anything I have seen in my time. To wed someone like you would not be a burden, or an ill-match, as you may see it. Instead, it is a blessing to me and to the kingdom."

Faeore can hear her smiling. "You really mean that, Xertormei?"

"Every word,"

She laughs and the sound of their robes colliding in the light echoes in the hall. Faeore catches a glimpse of the woman in her father's arms, encased in them like a prisoner. Heida does not fight it, nor does she move when she stands there with him. She just collapses into his embrace.

"What about Faeore?" Heida asks, her question muffled by his robe.

"What about her?" the king asks, his lips running across the top of her hair. "She is old enough to know the truth, Heida, though I do fear that she will not take this lightly. Since her mother's passing, she has been sensitive to these things. I do not know whether she will find this news bearable."

Heida clutches him tighter and says, "I will be a mother to her now. She shall have two of them."

A scowl escapes Faeore's lips as she gives herself away, her figure now illuminated in the light of the throne room. Immediately, the king and his lover spring apart from one another, as if caught in the gardens acting out of turn.

"Faeore!" the king greets his daughter with surprise, straightening his robe and smoothing down his hair. "How long were you standing there?"

Faeore's eyes narrow and her voice sharpens, "Long enough." She crosses her arms. "You seem ever eager to move on from mother. Tell me, how long was it before you were going to tell me about this?"

The king reaches out towards her, to reason. "You would have found out, Faeore. Your visions, they—"

"They show me the things I do not want to see," she snaps, "Yet they come nonetheless!"

The king grows angry now, Heida lingering in his shadow. "You will do well to remember who you are and in whose house you hide!" he exclaims. "Heida will make a good Queen, in time."

Tears well in Faeore's eyes, a sight the king has long despised. "You're replacing me with her? You don't trust me enough to let me rule in your stead?"

Heida steps forward, "I have just as much a right as you to the throne, Lady Faeore. Your father had made his choice. We are to wed in two weeks' time! Not long at all. His crown shall be mine and together we will rule Alleria with all the grace and beauty the Light can offer!"

Faore throws off her robe and tosses it aside roughly. "You are a guest in my father's house, nothing more. If he loves you, I pray that some enchantment has bewitched him, for he would never love a wretch like you, not in a thousand years!"