Wanderess

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY

He had mulled over every possible outcome for the scenarios running through his head.

What the fair Princess had asked of him. To take advantage of his Birthright.

How could she ask that of him.

It was like him asking her to use her transport gift to bring his grandfathers army to her doorstep. It was the same betrayal of country, of family.

Family.

That word didn't sit well with him for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on.

His Kings words from his Mindscape flashed through his head.

He wasn't worthy.

The mere thought of his father not being worthy for anything baffled Adrian more than words. He was the Prince's hero. Until he was cruelly ripped from him by murdering Angels.

They act all high and mighty, he thought, but they're no better than us. At least we have the dignity to own up to our wrongdoings and own them entirely.

Another memory from his adventure into his own mind flashed before his eyes. If his memory of the painting could be shown so easily, shouldn't his thoughts be the same? He had thought for a moment that maybe his father's death had something to do with the King; but dismissed it almost immediately. Only...

If his thoughts are displayed in the open in his mindscape, then surely the King would have heard his thoughts. But he said nothing to counteract them.

Dots were connecting themselves in his head, connecting a puzzle he did not wish to finish.

When he spoke of his father to Fayre, she seemed to have no idea what he was talking about, and being the Princess- about to be Queen, she was bound to know the ins and the outs of Palace life.

So... if the Angels had murdered his father- the Crown Prince at the time...wouldn't they be boasting about it for years? Wouldn't it become a campfire legend all children would hear? Or gossip the Palace staff just couldn't shy from? Yet, the Princess knew nothing.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

The puzzle was complete. Tears pricked Adrian's eyes.

It could be. No- he refused to believe it. He couldn't believe it.

The King might be a tyrannical monster, but he was the only family the young Prince had left. He wouldn't kill his own son- or have something to do with his death.

Clearly, he was just grasping at straws, but the Prince of Darkness couldn't contain the creeping feeling of dread clawing its way up his stomach, into his heart.

He needed the truth.

****

"Is it true?" He didn't bother knocking, he didn't bother being announced or waiting to be allowed to speak. He demanded answers.

Barging into to throne room wasn't the best idea in hindsight, but the rage and sadness drowning Adrian couldn't be contained.

He needed the truth.

The King looked up from the platter of assorted meats, bread and cheeses in his lap. He was picking at his food, not eating, but his greasy hand said enough that he wasn't starving.

"Leave us," he ordered all from the room- they obliged.

With a simple wave of his fat-covered fingers, the doors behind his slammed shut, another one of his gifts.