Page 58 of Night’s Fall (The Four Realms #1)
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T here was nothing informal about the way we promenaded to the throne room (for your information, that room was down and just beyond the majestic sweep of the stairs, situated at the back of the grand foyer at the main entrance of the Palace , and unfortunately, in these circumstances, not too far of a hike).
The king led with the queen on his arm.
Aleksei, with my hand in his elbow, came next.
Aleece trailed behind.
I saw Allain loitering outside the tall double doors to the throne room.
However, before we entered, when it felt like my lungs had forgotten how to breathe and each step was an effort at endurance—this meaning Aleksei tensed more and more at my side, my beast was jittery, and his was pitching aggressively—the king stopped.
He turned.
He left the queen where she was and came to us.
He put his hand on my shoulder and looked in my eyes.
“They were never your family, Laura . From your birth, you were destined to be with us. Before we enter that room, understand this, dear.”
Great.
Now I was also fighting tears.
Safe to say, the king didn’t give good first impressions, but he was totally growing on me.
I couldn’t do anything but nod.
Aleksei drew me closer.
King Fillion looked to his son and then returned to his wife.
The king’s words helped my lungs to breathe, and my legs to be stronger beneath me.
This was a good thing when we walked into the enormous, intimidating but nearly empty throne room.
It was painted daffodil yellow.
Straight ahead, there was a line of massive rectangular windows dressed with extravagant goldenrod curtains replete with silk fringes. They exposed a view of the colorful but austere beauty of the formal gardens of the courtyard.
To the left, against the wall, there was a dais dressed in plush, amethyst carpet, which shone stark against the bright yellow all around.
Atop this, were two thrones with royal-purple velvet upholstery.
The larger one was framed in gilt fashioned to look like scales with spikes jutting out dramatically, the smaller one, the same gilt, but this was fashioned as feathers.
Adorning the back and sides of the dais, there were sumptuous velvet curtains of amethyst and gold, pulled back with thick silk cords ending in tassels.
And there were two gold chairs situated ten feet in front of the dais, in which my parents were sitting.
My heart squeezed as I watched them come to their feet.
My father bowed. My mother curtsied.
And neither of them did it correctly.
Something about that penetrated my anxiety, calmed me and made me feel…
Well, dang.
It made me feel like I belonged.
The king and queen strode to their thrones ( King Fillion , spikes, Queen Calisa , feathers), sat, and Aleksei , Aleece and I arranged ourselves standing around them. Aleece on the queen’s side. Aleksei on the king’s, with me at his. He had his hand curled firm on the dent in my waist.
“You may sit,” the king said.
My parents did this, both of their gazes darting around, taking in the show before them and adjusting to it when they thought they’d only be dealing with the king and Aleksei .
It was then, I understood why Queen Calisa set it up like this.
This was not only a statement of family; it was a statement of status. It was a show of power.
It was intimidation.
It was putting my parents in their place.
Struggling to keep my expression neutral, I took them in.
It was clear they spent money on maintenance. They , like the king and queen, looked much younger than their years.
I had my mother’s coloring, my hair honeyed like hers and unlike my father’s dark blond. I had my father’s body, proportionate with long legs (my mother was petite).
And seeing them after this long, I was struck with what I felt.
No.
With how little of any emotion there was.
Neither of them met my gaze.
No one said anything for so long, it started to feel weird, and then the king spoke.
“You do not wish to hail your daughter?” he asked.
My father’s gaze darted to me, and he said, “ We wish to…we had hoped…”
He stopped talking, raised his hand as if to adjust his collar, dropped it and said no more.
It struck me he appeared nervous, which was not something I’d seen him be in all the time I knew him.
My mother shot him a look of pure disgust (and that was very familiar), before she said to me, “ You’re named after her.”
My spine went rigid as I understood exactly what she was saying.
Aleksei’s fingers dug into my waist, and he clipped, “ Unless given leave, you will not address Laura directly.”
Mom’s lips parted in astonishment.
“Explain this statement,” the king demanded.
“I had a mate, your majesty,” Dad said. “ She passed.”
“This is not unknown to me,” the king replied.
“He named our daughter after his dead female,” Mom spat.
And that was exactly what I understood she was saying.
Oh my gods .
Why on earth would he do that?
King Fillion turned to me and asked gently, “ Did you know this, dear?”
I shook my head.
“The point of you sharing this?” Aleksei all but barked.
“The point—” Dad began.
“Every time I saw her, or talked to her, or spoke her name,” Mom cut in to say, “ I was reminded that I was not her . I was not the one he wanted. And every time he ”—she snapped her head to the side to indicate my father—“did it, he was reminded she was dead.”
“And this explains why you broke her wrist, her ribs, and assaulted her beast?” Aleksei asked.
I heard Aleece’s sharp gasp.
I watched my father grimace.
“He thinks, now that she has a mate, she’ll get it,” Mom said.
“She’ll understand emotionally and physically abusing a child because she’s found her mate?” Aleksei didn’t hide his angry incredulity.
“Consider if you lost him,” Dad urged me.
My beast curled into herself, probably because Dad was around, but also at the thought of losing Aleksei .
Aleksei’s beast, feeling this, pulsated adamantly.
“What did I say about addressing my mate?” Aleksei bit.
“She’s my daughter,” Dad returned.
“No, sir, she is mine,” the king retorted.
I jolted.
Dad visibly did too.
Mom’s eyes narrowed.
“Tread carefully from here, understanding this,” the king warned.
“Yes, your majesty,” Dad acquiesced ( Dad ! Acquiescing !). “ Please , let me assure you, it is agony, losing your mate. Ask your son.”
“I would be inconsolable if I lost my queen,” the king replied. “ And , of course, angry at the gods for taking her from me. But I would not take the anger of my loss out on a single being, especially one of my children.”
“With respect, sire, you cannot say that without having experienced the loss, and without having?—”
“Your mate,” Mom finished for him. “ It’s all about his mate .”
“Be quiet, Cetra ,” Dad whispered harshly.
Here we go.
“I didn’t even want to be here, Tern ,” Mom hissed.
Yep.
Here we go.
“If you two intend to start bickering,” the queen warned, “you can do so on your way home. Now explain. What is your purpose here?”
“I’ve had time to think on it, thirteen years of it, and I simply want Laura to understand,” Dad said.
“Our daughter is the True Bride ,” Mom said at the same time.
Queen Calisa chose to focus on Mom .
“This has not escaped us,” she drawled.
“We are her parents,” Mom asserted.
“This is debatable, but I have no interest in debating it,” the queen returned. “ Though I would like you to explain why you said it.”
“We received the no contact order,” Dad informed them.
“Yes, it is procedure for you to be notified when a no contact is filed against you. And yet, here you are,” the king said.
“We didn’t know Laura would be here,” Dad replied.
“We won’t be calling the constabulary, rest assured,” the king told him. “ However , whether you knew or not, you contacted her mate’s family. This is not illegal, but it is dishonorable.”
“This is also not bringing the matter forward,” Queen Calisa put in.
“We are the parents of the True Bride ,” Mom reiterated.
“I have no understanding of why you persist in asserting that,” the queen retorted.
Mom squared her shoulders. “ We have a place in?—”
“Don’t fucking finish that.” Now Aleksei was absolutely barking at them.
I saw Mom’s face pale at his tone, and I turned to look at my mate.
Those veins had popped out, and his eyes glowed purple.
“Honey,” I whispered.
“We wish to inform you we’re filing an intent for reconciliation,” Dad announced, but although it was an announcement, you could hear he was nervous.
And again, I jolted.
“Laura?” the king called me.
I looked to him.
He raised his brows.
I shook my head.
He turned to my parents. “ Denied .”
I could tell it took a lot out of Dad to assert, “ With respect, yet again, your majesty, you do not have the authority to deny our request. When an intent for reconciliation is filed, we’re guaranteed at least one meeting with our daughter, attended by an adjudicator, before the question of a no contact order is considered valid… or rejected.”
He was correct, but they could not be sitting there, doing this, thinking I would reconcile with them when they only came forward because they thought they could get something out of it.
“Allain!” the queen called.
Allain immediately came through the doors.
“Get the Minister of Law and Justice on a comm,” she demanded.
“Your majesty,” he said and pulled out his Palm .
“If you try to go around this, pull strings, we’ll talk to—” Mom began to threaten.
But I cut her off.
“What do you want?” I asked.
With no hesitation, pure and unadulterated Mom , she bitterly fired back, “ Oh , can we talk directly to you now?”
“What do you want?” I repeated.
“You’re our daughter,” she snapped.
“Wait, did we enjoy roast pork by candlelight all the while exchanging presents last Dead Winter and I’ve forgotten?” I queried.
“You left us, we did not leave you,” Mom returned.
“You didn’t ask me back,” I reminded her. “ In fact, I heard nothing from you at all for thirteen years.”