Chapter Six

Benedict

I didn’t bother dressing up to meet King Erias. In fact, the few times I had bothered to dress formally had ever only been for Wren. This occasion was hardly more important than her. My natural form was decoration enough, my wings, scales, and claws on display proudly as I kept my chest bare. I wore the crown the witches had forged for me, and only because it was the partner to Wren’s. I wore it as a reminder to stay grounded and focused on winning Aldur to our side so I could retrieve her. If the witches saw it as a token of alliance, then even better.

Astrid was beside me, dressed in a stunning white robe that sparkled like the dawn shining off the sea. Spike stood in front of both of us, nearly unrecognizable in a tunic and shiny leather boots, his hair and beard trimmed and styled. He wore the coat of arms of his family on his chest like a shield.

The King of Aldur didn’t stand when we approached his throne. Spike dropped to one knee as a subject, and Astrid only inclined her head. I stood proudly before him, a king in my own right who bowed to no one. The king’s eyes narrowed.

Spike began, “Majesty, may I present—”

“I know who they are.”

My eyes slid away from King Erias, already done with assessing his character. He was a weak man who would only do what was in his best interests; nothing like the kings who had come before him. We had to convince him that supporting us was lucrative for him since appealing to his good nature would clearly be a waste of time. I instead glanced at the figures on either side of him.

A woman sat on his left, a pale shadow with long, blonde hair and shockingly blue eyes. One look at her told me everything I needed to know about him. Queen Nian stared dully ahead of us, smiling and nodding but not really seeing us. Her vacant expression looking back. Perhaps she only seemed so insignificant when compared to the raging sun that stood at the king’s right.

Princess Kali was a beautiful woman, capturing the beauty of her mother but also harnessing the fierce, demanding air of her father. Her eyes were a darker blue mixed with green that reminded me of the sea. Her red lips twitched as she noticed me watching her, and I glanced away. I didn’t like the hungry grin she shot me.

“I knew your circumstances were dire, but we could have at least lent you a tunic,” Erias scoffed.

I flashed my fangs at Erias, noting with pleasure the slight paling of his face. I was a warrior in my prime, a creature with magick and strength. He needed to be reminded of that, even if all the court women (and men) were openly gawking at me. I lifted my chin, staring him down.

“Wings make tunics . . . uncomfortable,” I replied.