Page 13 of In The Dark
The poundingat my door startles me awake, forcing me to jolt upright. My heart thrums wildly in my chest, adrenaline pumping as I calm my breathing.
“Isa Valedara!”
The incessant banging pulls me to the door in utter confusion, hair a mess and strung in all directions. Opening it in nothing but a sheer slip, I find Theron standing on the other side and appearing annoyed. Like I just spit in his breakfast.
Like always.
Out of all the personal guards he has, I particularly hate that one. Pompous and cruel, but the king seems to like him for some reason. I’ve had my fair share of Theron’s wrath a few times due to my mouth, but I know better than to open it now.
“Yes?” I attempt to hide the sneer creeping up my face, but I’m not convinced it’s working.
“You’re needed at a briefing with the king.”
“I’ll be right out.” The door slams in his face.
It’s a little after sunrise, casting the open land in a soft orange glow. Perhaps King Elion wants an update on the mission from last night.
I quickly dress, securing my weapons at my thighs and ribs, hair woven into two braids going down the sides of my head. Then I throw on my hooded cloak.
In the span of a couple of minutes, I’m out the door, shuffling down the stairs only to find Ezra waiting for me again. He must have already been awake, but I frown at the sight of him.
When the king calls for a briefing or a summons, it’s usually only one of us. Most of the time, it’s an update on our most recent mission, but Ezra’s here.
“What’s going on?” I clasp the top of my cloak as we begin our walk to the throne room.
He’s dressed in black, hair catching in the morning light, giving it a warm tone. He’s cut short on the sides again and claims that he doesn’t like it when it’s in his face, but I always try to convince him to grow it out.
He’s armed in a black leather harness, his silver sword secured on his back. Then his eyes graze mine, and he gives me a small smile.
“Something important, I guess. He’s called for both of us. Do you know what it’s about?” he asks.
“I’m assuming he wants an update about how my mission went last night,” I say, throwing him a sideways glance.
“That would be important. How did it go?”
“As good as killing anyone goes. Do you want filthy details or a summary?” I exhale with a smirk, knowing damn well that I don’t want to repeat last night’s events if I can help it.
“I think I can fill in my own details, thanks.” He glares but it’s lighthearted, and I’m thankful he doesn’t force me to relive it.
Striding down the front of the castle, shaded by the floor above, we walk in silence the rest of the way. We enter the grand hallway that leads to the throne room when two of the king’s personal guards immediately open the doors for us. We stroll through, meeting the king, who’s already sitting on his throne looking utterly pissed.This can’t be good.
I refrain from glancing at Ezra as we finally come to a stop at the base of his obnoxious chair—throne.It’s tall and made of a dark steel. He claims that it’s the rarest steel in Elderheim, so rare he’s required to sit on it.
Theron stands behind his right shoulder when King Elion’s stare blazes into me, his jaw set with anger. Fury pours out of him in waves of power, something I’ve only seen him use one other time.
It shocked me even then, seeing whips of golden white light lash out like extra hands, pouring out of him like fog. And as bright as the sun. Stunning yet terrifying.
“Your Majesty,” we say in unison, bowing at the waist.
His deep voice echoes through the chamber. “I called a briefing for both of you this morning. Do you know why? No? Good, I’ll tell you,” he growls, not waiting for either of us to answer.
King Elion is a large, angry, stern male, fit to be a king with his emerald-golden crown resting on his head. With silver hair and a long, full beard, he looks to be in his fifties, although I know he’s much older than that, around 375. Aging begins to slow when Fae, Aetheri, or Shadovar reach maturity around the age of twenty-eight. We call it the Stilling, and though Halflings age slowly, our lifespan is about half of theirs.
King Elion glares at me with his deep amber-colored eyes, like mine but darker. And angrier.
“At first, I wanted an update on Isa’s mission last night. Then I received an update from Helga first thing this morning.” He pauses long enough to hold up a leaf as proof, showing us the message. “About how her son was killed and was left in one of the back rooms. Luckily for you, she thinks it was the Fae male she gave us information on. Isa’s mission.”
The blood drains from my face as my heart skips. The son? He was a guard. I was certain of it. The room suddenly feels too small as I remain frozen by his words. Air escapes me as theweight of them settles in my chest, and a chill snakes down my spine. I didn’t just kill an aggressive male who got too handsy with me.