Heart of Woe (The Dark Arcane Series: Book 2)

Chapter Two

Darius reclined back in the throne, crossing his ankles. He had to admit, he did not mind the feel of the throne at all.

His mother had insisted upon getting it once she'd taken power, and placed it beside her own but he couldn't have known how much it would feel right.

A prince is royalty, and should look like one, she'd said with that satisfied gleam in her dark golden eyes. Despite everything, he couldn't agree more.

Mayeve sat in a throne to his right, her red dress spilling over onto the dais, the ruffles looking like a string of rose petals strung together. She was talking to one of her advisors, a witch with a rune etched in the centre of her forehead.

Since the takeover, he'd had to get used to the sight of witches in the castle with their flashing yellow eyes and claws that he'd seen rip through metal, but it was still a struggle not to shout for the guards sometimes.

Even after all this time, the sight of his mother with that undercurrent of light beneath her skin had chills running up his spine and yet at the same time, it just made sense. What was this but one more betrayal in his life?

The witches were called the Divine, and from what he could tell, were like the witch version of holywomen. They all bore a rune on their faces, and talked of nothing but serving the Mothers at every hour of the day. They'd bring Her up at every court meeting without fail, and talk about whether what they were doing was really respective of Her flames. Suffice to say it did not take long before he bored of them.

Personally, he was more curious about the things he could actually see rather than gods. Let's the gods come down and have a conversation with him, then he'd be interested.

He let his gaze wander over the room. Whatever they were currently talking about couldn't have been important—if it was, his mother would have been informed in a private meeting, without him.

The great doors swung open and the guards announced, "The Crow has returned, Your Imperial Majesty, Your Royal Highness."

He watched Kade stride in, his pale face blank, with two guards behind him, holding a person in chains. He had the black Elite uniform on, that sometimes—when it caught the light—looked the darkest shade of red, like it had been soaked in blood. A sword hung at each side, long wicked blades with a gradual curve.

It made him sick to think what those blades had done in the past two years.

He didn't look Darius' way as he made his way down the room to the thrones, gaze fixed on the empress.

Mayeve quickly dismissed her advisor, shifting to get a better look at the captive. The grand golden crown on her head shone in the light, far brighter than it ever had on his father's head. He recalled how she'd told him with tears in her eyes of how his father had given her the crown just before he'd ran away, saying the pressure of ruling had been too much. Darius laughed at that memory now.

"Who do we have here?" she asked as Kade bowed low, a closed hand on his heart and the other behind his back.

The guards forced the prisoner to his knees. He had smooth black hair, though a little rumpled, and a small physique, like a bird. His eyes flew around the room as he knelt there, panting.

Darius almost felt sorry for him. There was no good end for this man in any scenario.

"A flint spy, Your Majesty. Caught trying to pretend to be a servant in the kitchens. They claim to have a message for you," Kade said lowly.

He couldn't read a single emotion on his face. He couldn't have felt comfortable with all these people watching, not to mention the man's life in his hands, but he looked nothing less than the man who sold them out to the Captain in the north, the traitor who spied on them and betrayed them. Equal parts unforgiving and unforgivable.