The Princess and the Warlock

Chapitre Neuf

At the castle, I only ever witnessed one execution. I knew they happened quite frequently, mostly because Father had me confined me to my bedroom when they occurred. Public executions were for the most heinous crimes, but many were done in secret, away from the prying eye, in a courtyard located in the middle of the castle. Father oversaw all of them, but I never understood why he wasted his time until I snuck out of a window to see one.

I had hid behind a pillar and a potted plant on the second floor balcony, peering into the courtyard while holding my breath. It wasn't a good view—the rows of guards did well at shielding whomever was going to be executed—but I had a clear view of my father sitting in a throne they'd brought out. There was a cruel expression on his face, with eyes the color of steel. The row of guards moved just enough so I could see the man. Average, middle-aged, with his hands bound in front of him, the man stared down the king with an unflinching gaze.

And when a guard stepped forward with his sword unsheathed, he stood still.

I peeked through the leaves of the plant and watched as the guard sliced the man's head clean off with his sword, watching how it bounced along the ground a moment after, like a ball. In the seconds before I leaned over and vomited into the potted plant, I caught my father's expression.

Pure glee.

The expression on Dane in the moments he stabbed Pete Patton was exactly like my father's--filled with glee--but not in the same way. He stared at the sword protruding from his chest with a wild grin on his face, eyes still glowing, looking like a child opening a dozen presents. Exhilaration.

Dane caught Pete as he fell forward, and even from where I was sitting I could hear his gasps for air, could see his surprised, alarmed expression. "Kaius!" My hiss echoed in my ears. "What in hell?" People around me gasped and exclaimed in surprise, but not a soul began to scream. I could feel one building in my throat, searching for the blood to seep through on Pete's shirt. Blood dripped off of the tip of the blade; Pete's blood.

And Kaius—he smiled. He actually smiled. With teeth! Beautiful, perfect white teeth, offsetting the dark color of his skin in a dazzling way that made me momentarily forget about where we were. The smile—though striking—was so out of place in this moment that my world spun. "Weren't you the one who said this wasn't real?"

And it wasn't—right? No one asked me to be quiet—we were talking pretty loudly—in fact, no one even glanced my way. But it was quite obvious from the expression on Pete's face that he was not expecting this, any more than the audience was. "But he just stabbed him."

"Have you not heard anything I've told you?" Kaius said kindly, sitting calmly in his seat. "Dane is a warlock, Amora. That's his stage name, sure, but he also is one. I'm sure he could chop the guy's head off and he'd be fine."

"We'll bring you right down here," Dane said to the volunteer gently, guiding him to his knees. "Good, good. You feeling okay? Any pain, Pete?"

Pete, though looking obviously perplexed, shook his head no.

"Great. You look great." Dane took a few steps away from the man he just impaled, looking out into the audience. "I'm going to need one more volunteer."

Surprisingly, no one raised their hands.

But Dane simply smiled, waving a hand at the people who were sitting. "I'm just kidding." He shrugged off his tuxedo jacket, folding it over his arms. "Who in their right mind would volunteer now, am I right?"

I felt Kaius' fingers brush against my own, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Amora, relax. I wouldn't bring you to an execution." He leaned back in his seat, turning his attention away from me. "Have a little faith."