Page 12 of Impaled by His Omega Prince (Reluctant Fae Princes #2)
Lumic
It seemed that since his return, he couldn’t find enough rest to sate his body. He yawned as much as he breathed, and his stomach had turned from his weeks with sour water and spoiled food.
Stamel sat in shackles before him and their father, his expression pitiable and twisted with feigned remorse.
“Why, brother?” Lumic stared his older brother down, taking in the disheveled mess of him, still a sight better than what Lumic had looked like when he returned.
“Your ambition to take the crown from me. I see it in your eyes, brother. You sabotage me to Father, speak ill of me. He looks to you for the crown more every day, and here we are with him, skipping Ingred straight for you. Father hates alphas so much he wouldn’t even give Da a place in court!” Stamel’s eyes, so similar to Kershai’s, a dusty sort of blue, held sick rage within. None of Kershai’s kindness.
“Your father has never asked me for a place in court. He has never had those ambitions. He did not fight in wars or study his thalms. Kershai was the third son of a land baron and had no inheritance or connections. The only reason my father allowed our union was that his thalms were unusually high, as evidenced by all three of you, though the law knows why you never harnessed it. Twenty-eight and you barely can light a fire.” King Pallosar sighed raggedly.
“But you think him beneath you.” Stamel gritted his teeth and bit back tears.
“Because he is beneath me. He never had station or education. I chose him because I love him. Your father is my mate, and I twined my soul with him. I wish you would see that. He may be beneath me in station, but he is equal in my heart.” King Pallosar rubbed his temples and glanced from Stamel to Lumic.
“Lumic, what are we to do with him? His transgressions against you were unforgivable.” King Pallosar sneered.
“He’s my brother, and as rotten as he is, that is true.” Lumic took a cleansing breath, fighting the low buzz of a headache gnawing away at his skull. “If I say I forgive him and let him go, can he take the crown and let me go back to trying to reclaim Summer’s Keep? I’ve dreamed of that castle and little corner of the kingdom since I was a springling.”
King Pallosar scoffed and Stamel stared, mouth twisted into a moue of distaste.
“I cannot be objective! I am not neutral. I nether like Stamel nor want the crown!” Lumic slouched and rolled his eyes back, sighing heavily. “Have Da weigh in.”
King Pallosar sighed and rose from his seat. “I’ll be back. I had hoped to keep him out of this.”
Stamel sneered, but Lumic only rested his head on his hand and sighed. “What gave you the impression I wanted the crown?”
“Father said you’d be the better choice.”
“And yet I am not the heir apparent, and tradition is the law unless you commit treason.” Lumic swallowed hard, fighting back a wash of drool before reaching to his side, a cup of tea waiting for him.
It tasted foul on his tongue, and he sneered, placing it back upon the table. “Attendant, would you please bring some honey?”
A servant nearby nodded and excused themselves, leaving Lumic to stare his brother down.
“And seriously. Fifty vati? That’s it? I’m worth at least a hundred.” Lumic grunted and Stamel gave him the fickle fingers.
When their fathers returned, Kershai, a hulking kitten of an alpha, stared at Stamel with a baleful sort of disappointment. “Melmel…”
Stamel, upon the moniker, showed his first true sign of remorse. “Father Kershai—I can explain.”
“I’m sure you can.” The disappointment grew in Kershai’s eyes as he strode forward, reaching his hands over the back of the ornate chair Lumic slouched in, warm, thick hands rubbing gently. “But why would you want to see your brother dead? Do you not know how hard I wept when that body came in? For the moments we saw Lumic’s armor and clothes…I wanted to be dead in his stead, Stamel. Do you understand?”
Stamel, wilting under his alpha father’s gaze, nodded, shedding his own tears, but whether they were the tears of a rockviper, venomous and forced, or genuine, Lumic couldn’t tell.
“If I didn’t think you’d try your hand again, I may have let you off with a stripping of title…” King Pallosar tugged at his hair and glanced over to Kershai, who migrated over to rub his shoulders sweetly. “My love, what should we do?”
“I think asking Lumic to decide is cruel beyond reason, my sweetvine.” Kershai leaned down to kiss the top of Pallosar’s head and stared mournfully at Stamel. “I taught you better. I understand your frustration, but I am not royalty by blood. I do not understand or have the mind for leadership. I’m afraid I hold your father back at times. It is not his word that hinders me.”
“So, our options are to strip him of his wings, to execute him, banish him, or strip him of title and let him live his days as a salaried member of the estate.” King Pallosar raised a hand to rest over Kershai’s and closed his eyes after taking one look at Stamel’s face. Lumic looked at it and winced at the pain he saw. Sympathy—or something like it—welled in Lumic’s heart. The concept of losing family, even terrible family, made something in him ache.
“Da, Father,” Lumic addressed his omega and alpha father in turn. “I have a suggestion.”
Pallosar raised a brow and gestured for Lumic to continue as Stamel paled. Lumic drew his pause out a little longer to make his brother squirm. “Marriage.”
Pallosar’s brow wrinkled. “Marriage?”
“Find some omega or female regency and ship him off to be another kingdom’s problem. Perhaps Queen Kiera of Drashil would appreciate something young and stupid?” Lumic avoided staring at his brother, who had a complex sort of expression—disgust, relief, apprehension.
“Not sure if you’ve been kept up to date, but after Prince Nemiah took care of Behran, he took the Liaberos omega prince as his mate and they’ve stepped upon the throne since you’ve been gone on your crusade.” Pallosar waved his hand dismissively, but his expression didn’t say he hated the idea. “But this is a fine idea. You’ll stay in the dungeons until such time as we deem fit to introduce you to potential partners. I love you, son, and it pains me to do this. I am very grateful that you failed to kill Lumic, because if you had—there wouldn’t have been a discussion, traitor.”
Kershai and the guards moved forward to take and escort Stamel back to the dungeons.
“Are you feeling better this morning, Lu?” Pallosar reached over to rest a hand on Lumic’s arm.
“Not very.” He sighed as an attendant came by to add honey to his tea, offering it to Pallosar as well. “Does the nightflower taste bitter to you, Father?”
Being omega himself, and not quite beyond his childbearing years, King Pallosar shook his head. “It never tastes good, but it’s no different than normal. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been so long without.”
Lumic nodded and followed as his father rose. “Come, boy. I’ve some interested alphas for you to meet.”
They gathered their cups of tea and sipped the last dregs before heading to another room where Lumic would stare at yet another alpha that missed the mark in so many ways.
They were not submissive or attentive, their wings like doves, not the dwarven canary that came to mind, or the draconian illix horns that cast a silhouette in his mind of an alpha that never returned.
“Any word back on the search for the Liaberian alpha?” Lumic kept his tone neutral.
Pallosar’s step faltered before he glanced over his shoulder. “None. Because I wish to thank him.”
Lumic swallowed the pain in his chest. The first alpha he’d ever wanted to give his heart to and he was gone so fast.
“Come. There’ll be others.” His father swept Lumic in with a warm and comforting arm before escorting him out of their dining hall, their goal a receiving room outside of the courts. There, undoubtedly, there would be more foul tea.