Blood Of My Blood

Chapter 1: Fancies To Digest

"Of all the irresponsible and foolish behaviour you've displayed over the years, this has to be your crowning achievement!" Queen Aisha barked furiously, tugging at Marrok's hair with a comb. She had a habit of doing that when she felt angry towards him, in an attempt to tame his red mop that he had inherited from her.

As expected, Marrok was in for a world of pain upon his return. It probably didn't help that he had been carried back unconscious in the arms of a guard. His mother, usually serene, had become a screaming banshee in her rage. His father, for his part, looked like he disapproved, but he had a mischievous glint in his eye that told Marrok that he had done something similar when he was his age.

"I thought we've warned you time and time again not to consort with Lord Abrasax," said the king.

Marrok stared down at his hands, and he felt his cheeks flush. It was always odd, when anyone addressed James by his formal title. "He's my friend. And this is the first time in a while that he offered to leave the palace. He was doing quite well, I like to think," he admitted.

Aisha slammed the comb down on a side table, much to Marrok's relief. The worst was over. "He's a delinquent! And, not to mention, the lowest of his house. You're to be twenty years old next April, Marrok, and we won't be here forever; it's about time that you've begun to build relations with the leaders of the High Houses."

"And to prove this point," his father added, "I have some good news for you."

Marrok leaned back in his chair, apprehensive. "Oh?"

"Lady Cynthia Delacourt has accepted a marriage proposal between you and her eldest daughter. The wedding has been scheduled in three months' time, and then you'll hopefully have a fine princess to keep you in line."

The prince smirked down at his lap. Of course, the king's insistence on a bride for his only son had been the main topic of conversation at court for a while now. Every house had put their best girls forward in the hopes of tying into the royal bloodline, but in the end, King Tybalt had set his eye on Jannali Delacourt, heir to the wealthiest house on Luna. Marrok suspected that he had chosen her because the royal family was facing financial troubles from his parents' excess spending, but he knew that neither of them would admit it either way. Such a rumour spread across Luna would put a great dent in the royal family's armour.

He had never met Lady Delacourt, but from what he had been told, she was quite the bore. She rarely attended galas or parties and was always silent at court functions. Come to think of it, Marrok had never even seen her, she was so unremarkable.

Marrok looked up to the king, forcing a smile. "Father, this is indeed great news. Another thing I won't have to worry about."

Aisha's anger vanished like a feather in the breeze, and she sighed. "Oh, my little boy is getting married! Dearest, I request that you appoint me head wedding planner, if you don't mind. I would like to ensure that everything is perfect."

"That would be splendid, Mother. Thank you," said Marrok. Aisha nodded graciously. It was the one thing Marrok respected about his mother—her passion for parties had formed a sort of bond between them.

The king called for his attendant to jot down the order before he forgot it himself. Aisha began to chat excitedly about the upcoming nuptials, and Marrok shrunk further in his seat, not even bothering to hide his indifference.

Ugly J loved bones.

It was the weirdest of things, having begun when she was just a child, keeping scraps from chicken at that night's dinner and killing small animals, their skeletons becoming shining additions to her collection. She loved running her razor-sharp nails along the white of the bones, hearing the lively scratch that came with it. They were like wood, but they also came from blood and flesh.