Chapter 2: The King's Arrival

“Treason? Really?”

Aster sighed into his drink. “Yes, Eddie. Treason.”

Eddrick Umbra, Aster’s best friend and confidant, blew one of his chestnut-brown corkscrew curls out of his face in response. His skin was about the same shade in the dim light of the tavern corner the two loitered in. He clicked his tongue as he looked into the disappointing emptiness at the bottom of his own cup.

“What won’t they call treason these days?” Eddie mused. “Talk about any other monarch? Treason. Mention his thugs’ war crimes? Treason. Now a teenage girl refusing his advances is treason too!”

“Lower your voice,” Aster hissed at him. “The walls have ears.”

Eddie snorted. “Please, like anyone here would turn on me.” His lips curved up into a smirk. “I’ve picked up whispers on practically everyone from here to the capital.”

Aster huffed a laugh as he went to sip his ale. “Is that what you’re calling it? ‘Picking up whispers’?”

“You’d be surprised at the sheer power of pillow talk, my friend.” Eddie winked at him before waving down the barmaid. “People will spill their darkest shadows on their own if it’s done right.”

Aster rolled his eyes. “And what happens when you settle down?”

Eddie shrugged, his smile reflecting in tired violet eyes. “I suppose if I find the right mate, I’ll ford that stream when my path crosses it.”

“If only I could be as carefree as you, my old friend,” Aster chuckled softly. “My family is falling to pieces. Mother won’t talk to us as much since Father died, and now she’s all but selling Anna off…”

“And your long-lost childhood paramour went to war and never came back,” Eddie teased.

The smile vanished from Aster’s face. His eyes cast into his drink, and he tried to quell the feeling of sorrow that he was far too familiar with.

He was only thirteen when the war began. He hadn’t even presented yet. But Jace, his friend, had presented as an Alpha that year. When the former King drafted all able-bodied Alphas to defend the crown, Jace was happy to defend their home.

His last words echoed still in Aster’s head: “When I come home, I’ll be a hero. And you’d better be here.”

Two long years the war raged, but even after the news came that the fighting was over and the Usurper Darreth Vireylon stole the throne, Aster was stuck waiting for nearly an entire winter for Jace’s return. When it finally set in that he never would, the gods themselves couldn’t have gotten Aster out of bed for over a month afterwards. Even when he finally let the rains of spring kiss his cheeks again, the feeling of deep-seated grief never left him. He just learned to live around it, even if he felt like a piece of him was missing.

When Eddie nudged him out of his thoughts, the dagger remained piercing his heart. The smile he put on was hollow and held no warmth.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Eddie said with a sheepish smile. “I know I shouldn’t tease, especially when I’ve never had a family myself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aster said, carefully stepping around his sorrow to a new topic. “You’ve been a part of our family since you came to work for my mother. You’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had.”

Eddie’s sheepish smile stretched into one of genuine gratitude. “Who’d have thought it, huh? Scoundrel like me.”

Aster leaned back as the barmaid presented the two of them with fresh ales. Glad for a pause in the conversation, he allowed his thoughts to wander away from the pain in his chest while he willed it to ebb. He didn’t come out with his friend to speak about his own grief, he came to ask him what to do about his sister’s unwilling betrothal.

“That’s why I came to you,” Aster said once the barmaid had gone. “I don’t know what to do, Ed. I can’t let my baby sister be carted off by that man, and I certainly don’t want my mother to be executed for treason, we wouldn’t survive without her.”

Eddie clicked his tongue. Aster could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Why does the King want her anyway? Of all the eligible Omegas in the realm, why her?”

Aster shrugged, waving his pint as if trying to swat an answer out of the air. “I don’t know. Mother said he was quite taken with her at the Spring Festival. She is quite beautiful.”

“Yes, but no offense, she isn’t the only beautiful Omega out there. There must be some reason why he wants her.” Eddie gained a familiar glint in his eye, one Aster recognized. “I’ll have to find out why.”

“There’s only three days before he’s planned to arrive,” Aster warned. “Whatever you’re going to do, it’ll have to be quick.”

Eddie smirked at him, raising his cup to his lips. “Oh, it won’t be.”

Aster laughed and shook his head, shoving his friend with his elbow. “Scoundrel!”

Eddie laughed. “You love me for it!”

***

Aster had barely been able to sleep the past three nights. He spent hours pouring over old tomes in the library by candlelight, scouring for any semblance of a plan to no avail. When he was too tired to read properly and the words began swimming across his vision, he lay in his bed, listening to the hushed sobs of his sister in the next room. He couldn’t offer her any comfort that wouldn’t be a pretty lie, and it broke his heart.

If he did manage to sleep, it was restless and full of nightmares. Horrible feelings of dread plagued him as he desperately tried to hold onto Annalyse, only for her to be ripped away from him by a demon in a crown. Or he was tortured by heavy limbs and a mouth that wouldn’t open as he desperately tried to chase after her.

The morning of the dreaded day came. Gray clouds covered the sky, as if the gods themselves couldn’t watch this heinous affair. The bland light of the morning assaulted Aster’s tired eyes, and he got up to bathe and dress. He still hadn’t heard from Eddie, and he uttered bitterly that he thought his friend was joking when he said it wouldn’t be quick.

Upon exiting his quarters, Aster found his sister in the hall outside their rooms, pacing. It seemed sleep avoided her as well, as no powder could cover the dark circles that hung under her beautiful gray eyes. Her hair had been meticulously curled into loose ringlets, and her nails polished. Still, despite being a vision of loveliness and innocence, Aster could imagine the beautiful silken dress she wore felt more like a funeral shroud.

He intercepted her path, taking her hands. He wasn’t sure at all what to say to her. He wanted to offer some sort of comfort or reassurance. But there was nothing he could say that would likely help her now. All he could do was be at her side.

Annalyse didn’t speak. She only wrapped her arm through her brother’s elbow, clinging to him like he was her last lifeline. Like if she held him tight enough, no one would ever be able to pull her away. The two siblings walked the hall together, neither rushing their gait.

Annalyse’s grip tightened on Aster’s arm as they reached the top of the stairs. “When will it be?”

Aster shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m sure the steward will ring the sentry bell once they’ve been sighted on the road.”

Annalyse paused a while, and seemed to shrink into herself. When she did speak again, her voice was no more than that of a frightened child. “I’m afraid, brother…”

Aster released her arm to pull her into a tight hug. “I know, Anna…” He could only pray silently that Eddie would come back with an answer before the King arrived.

Too late. The toll of the sentry bell at the edge of their ancestral property announced the arrival of the royal caravan. Annalyse choked out a sob, and Aster held her tighter.

“Stay strong, little sister,” he whispered. “I will protect you, whatever it takes.”

“Promise?” She whispered.

“Promise.”

After a moment to compose herself, she straightened back up and took hold of Aster’s arm again. The two made their way down the steps to the grand foyer, where their mother met them. She was dressed in her best, just as they were. But when she smiled, Aster swore he saw a tear in her eye. He refused to smile back at her, only held his head high as the three of them exited the manor.

The house staff had already lined up outside, and a quick glance among them told Aster that Eddie wasn’t even here. Where could he be? They were out of time!

The King’s banner men rode in first, carrying the colors of House Vireylon: the black figure of a rearing stallion, enclosed in a dark green ouroboros—the serpent eating its own tail—on a field of bright yellow. Behind the banner men rode the King’s guards, heavy black armor clanking as their horses trotted along the path. Then came the King’s carriage: a gaudily gilded box of painted wood, followed by more guards. The Tyrant brought a good twenty people with him for this little visit.

“Some of them will have to sleep in the stables,” Aster grumbled, earning him a sharp look from his mother.

As the procession filed in and the carriage pulled up to their doorstep, Aster noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over to the garden fence beside the house, where he saw Eddie slip out of the gate and quickly join the ranks of servants. He locked eyes with Aster for a split second, and gave him the slightest of nods. What it meant, Aster could only guess, but he had a feeling it was good.

Aster snapped his head back to the procession as the royal herald stepped down from the carriage and announced: “Presenting His Majesty Darreth Vireylon, First of his name, Exalted Ruler of Devali and King of The Primal Throne!”

The Usurper, you mean. Aster bit his tongue and held his head high as the King himself stepped down from his carriage.

In all fairness, he wasn’t unfortunate-looking by any means. He stood tall, his strong shoulders somewhat hidden beneath a cloak of fur and velvet. Though he seemed to wear light traveling clothes underneath, he must have been roasting under that cloak. Winter was too long gone for him to be wearing such a thick garment, but Aster assumed it was for show. Tufts of dark hair stuck out from the thick gold crown that sat upon his brow, and a pair of hazel green eyes took in the sight of the family in front of him.

Aster’s mother and sister were the first to curtsey, and Aster took a second longer to bend in a respectful bow.

“Your Grace,” his mother greeted. “We are quite humbled to have you visit our ancestral halls.”

The King barely acknowledged her presence, keeping his gaze locked on the two siblings as he spoke. “I appreciate your agreement to host my men and I on such short notice, Lady Silvercrest. I had been meaning to visit your husband’s lands for some time now, but I am saddened to have heard of his passing.”

Aster grit his teeth and kept his eyes downcast. Was that why he wanted to court Anna?

“Forgive me, my King,” Diyanna said, standing tall but not neglecting to notice how the monarch stared at her children. “But my family name and titles have passed to my children through me. Their father, may the gods give him rest, was not the heir to the Silvercrest name and lands. I am.”

The King seemed surprised by this. “Is that so? I was not aware of that.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Diyanna moved closer to Annalyse, setting her hand on her back. “And these are my children. This is Annalyse.”

Annalyse bowed her head. “Your Grace.”

The King drew his eyes over her, and Aster had to suppress a disgusted grunt.

“And this is Aster.”

Aster kept his head held high as the King’s gaze turned on him. He only slightly nodded in recognition. “Your Grace.”

“I didn’t realize you had a son,” the King said.

“I was not at the Spring Festival, Your Grace,” Aster said flatly. He could feel his mother’s glare boring into the side of his face, but the King actually laughed in amusement.

“So I’ve been found out, eh? Are you aware of my proposal?”

The smirk on his face turned Aster’s stomach, but he would rather it be directed at him than at Annalyse. He leveled his gaze at the taller man, and the smell of cinnamon and musk washed over him—it was almost suffocating. He kept his breaths shallow as seconds passed between them.

“I am, My Lord.” Aster finally replied.

“Then tell me, Aster,” the King said. “What do you think of my intent to court your sister?”

Aster glanced nervously at his mother. What kind of question was that for him to ask in front of all these people? Was he trying to embarrass him? Was this a test? Would the consequences be worse if he lied to placate the King, or if he told the truth and risked treason?

“May I speak plainly, My King?”

The King raised an eyebrow, but his mouth still curved up in an amused smile. “You may.”

After another glance at his mortified mother, Aster squared his shoulders and responded with possibly the stupidest thing he’d ever said:

“I would prefer you court me, Your Grace.”