Chapter 42

With the sound of Kaira’s sobbing ringing in our ears, we turned and made our way to the palace court. Liam walked with his hands clasped behind his back and I could see his shoulders were tight with tension. I wanted to reach out and grab his hand, but knew that protocol forbade such an action.

As if sensing my thoughts, Liam stopped and turned around, facing me. He reached a hand toward me and with a slight frown on my face, I gave him my hand. He pulled me to him until we were just inches apart and I had to strain my head back to look up into his moonlit eyes.

He had a small smile playing across his lips, but there was a serious look to his eyes. “You will no longer stand behind me, Xia Wind Song. Come, walk beside me as we are meant to do.”

He turned and tugged at my hand, but I resisted. “Liam, we have enough troubles. I should stay behind you as protocol states-”

He growled, his wolf coming through his voice as he interrupted me. “I don’t give a damn about protocol. You are my wife.”

Tears filled my eyes once more as the implication of his words struck me. He reached up a hand and gently caressed my cheek as he leaned down and rested his forehead against mine.

“More than that, I love you, Xia Wind Song. I care not that I am a crown prince or that you were once a slave. I care not for the trappings of nobility or for these ridiculous traditions. I only care that you are by my side for the rest of our lives.”

He straightened up and once again reached for my hand. I laid my hand in his, enjoying the feel of his warmth as his hand engulfed mine and we turned as one and continued down the path toward the palace, our guards and attendants trailing behind us in orderly lines.

As the palace came into view, I started to tremble, fear coursing through me and the acid in my stomach churning. Liam gave me a reassuring smile and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back, unable to speak for the lump of dread sticking in my throat.

As we neared the palace, I was struck by the beauty of the walls that surrounded the official courtyard where royal events took place. The walls were made of a wood so dark and highly polished, it was like looking at the black waters of a still lake at night. Every inch was intricately carved in magical runes, which Liam had explained was a last defense meant to protect the king should the walls of the citadel be breached.

Perfectly centered in the wall was a gate, significantly smaller than the one at the Eastern Gate, but more magnificent as it was also covered in runes as well as swirling lines of silver that had been embedded into the wood. With that amount of silver, I instinctively knew that only the most powerful of Kin would be able to touch that door.

Two guards stood to each side of the gate, moon staffs in hand and their postures rigid. They made no move to open the gate as we approached and just as I was wondering if we would be denied entrance, one of the guards bowed to Liam and said, “By order of Tae Beun, your guards are not permitted to enter and you must relinquish your sword, Tae Han.”

A snarl of anger that was full of his wolf erupted from Liam. The guards didn’t even flinch. Liam may have been the crown prince, but their master was the king and his word was absolute.

I could feel Liam shaking with anger as we stood there in the summer sun. A moment passed, then another, before he unbuckled his belt and flung it to the ground in disgust.

Then Liam let go of my hand and he grabbed two silver bars embedded into the wood and pulled the gate doors open.

I nearly gasped as I heard the sizzle of silver against Liam’s hands. This was not a thin silver coating or silver mixed with other metals to strengthen it. It was silver in its most untainted form and it was clearly meant to prevent any lesser Kin from opening the doors.

After Liam’s initial tug at the silver handles, he stepped back and once more took my hand in his as the doors swung silently open on a whisper of magic.

I took a shaky breath and following Liam’s lead, we walked hand-in-hand through the gates and onto a platform where the sight before me made me stare in awe.

The courtyard, as well as the platform we stood upon, was made of an ebony stone flecked throughout with bits of sparkling quartz. The stone and quartz shone brightly in the summer sun, almost blindingly so and I struggled not to squint against the reflected light.

The platform ran along three sides of the perimeter and sat atop a series of steps that led down into a square and there were guards holding moon staffs positioned every eight feet along the entire length of the platform.

On the palace side of the courtyard, the platform gave way to a dais that held an empty throne at its center which appeared to be carved from obsidian and was filigreed with delicate lines of silver. A smaller, less ornate chair without any silver adornments stood to one side and slightly behind what was clearly the king’s seat; I surmised that it must be the queen’s throne.

At the back of the dais fluttered eight vertical banners of black silk, each embroidered with a single, giant snarling wolf’s head in silver thread, the sigil of Liam’s clan and the same as the embroidery at his collar and mine. At the front of the dais, eight stairs led down to a second, smaller dais, followed by another set of eight stairs down to the courtyard. Liam had explained previously that the second dais was where he would normally sit during court functions. The second dais was currently barren, which Liam had expected since he would be required to prostrate himself before Tae Beun.

On one end of the dais stood an alabaster life-sized statue of Selene and Leto, one of the goddess’ hands held aloft with a sword while the other hand rested on the shoulder of the giant wolf, Leto, beside her. The sword and her sigil crown were both made of moonstone and glowed though the statue was enveloped in the shadows of the overhang above the dais. Even from where we stood, I could see that her eyes were made of gemstones, one of a brilliant scarlet and the other of deepest night, while Leto had one matching red eye and her other eye was closed beneath a scar.

The resemblance of the statue to the goddess I’d seen in that long ago vision made me shiver and I wondered fleetingly if the artist who’d sculpted the statue thousands of years ago had actually seen Selene with their own eyes.

Liam mistook my shiver for one of fear rather than of disquiet and gave my hand another squeeze as he led me down into the square. As we descended, I took in the rows upon rows of magistrates and other court officials. They were all facing in the direction of the throne, so I wasn’t yet able to see if their faces held any expressions at all. Some spoke in quiet whispers to each other, but overall, the courtyard was quiet as those assembled waited for the king’s arrival.

Once we reached the floor of the courtyard, Liam and I proceeded to walk down the center aisle, flanked by the rows of people dressed in either court attire or palace uniforms, standing patiently beneath the blazing summer sun. The few people who had been quietly chatting before now hushed as we passed by and I could see faces turning toward me from the corner of my eye. I resolutely kept my eyes forward, not wanting to see if any of those anonymous faces held contempt or fear or hatred.

At the end of the aisle rested a solitary pillow of crimson silk; I presumed this was where Liam was supposed to kneel before his father.

Instead of kneeling though, Liam kicked the pillow to the side and stood in the spot the pillow had been, his hand still clasping mine. I flicked my eyes sideways at him, nervous about this message he was sending. He kept his eyes forward but gave my hand yet another firm squeeze. I took a deep breath to try and calm my racing heart and shifted my eyes toward the dais as I gripped Liam’s hand more tightly.

The minutes ticked by as we waited for the king and queen to appear and a few people started quiet conversations again. My ears caught a few grumbles as the sun beat down on everyone, the heat making even the most tolerant and patient Kin break out in sweats. Even as I thought it, I could feel a trickle of sweat work down my spine. I had to resist the urge to wipe at my forehead.

After several more minutes, the sound of a gong finally came. Every voice stopped immediately and an eerie silence descended over the courtyard.

From one end of the dais, the king and queen entered, flanked by the king’s personal guard, the Argent Eight, who were fanned out in a vee formation and they were followed by a legion of guards and slaves. The Argent Eight were the elite of the king’s personal guard and if their helmets were the pure silver they appeared to be from where I stood, their power levels were indeed formidable.

I followed the Tae Beun’s movement with my eyes, astonished at the resemblance between the king and his son. This was Liam in another thirty years, with the same powerful build and the same moonlit eyes, albeit with a few wrinkles and perhaps an inch or two shorter than Liam.

From the way he moved and the way that his clothes hung on him, I had to guess that he was still fit and trim, though he was well into his middle years. His black silk robes were covered top to bottom in the clan sigil and I had no doubt that the embroidery was made of silver, a deliberate display of power much like the Argent Eight’s helmets were as only the strongest wolves could bear constant contact with silver.

And though he wore no crown, there was no mistaking the fact that he was king. His power rolled off of him in waves, a steady reminder to all within the courtyard that he was the most powerful person present.

The queen, while dressed elegantly in flowing layers of vermillion silk, displayed no signs of silver on her person. Her jewelry and hairpieces appeared to be of gold and precious gemstones. Combined with the fact that there was no silver filigree on her throne, I had to guess that she was not an Adept.

While lovely and graceful, there was a hardness to the queen’s eyes, something of cold calculation and cruelty deep within them, or perhaps that was my imagination at play given the circumstances and the story Liam had told me about her.

As the king and queen seated themselves on their respective thrones, the king’s attention fastened onto Liam. Immediately, I bent my head in a bow and cast my eyes down, not wanting to make eye contact with the single most powerful Kin in the world. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I tried to quell the icy fear that coursed through my veins.

In my peripheral vision, I saw that Liam also had his head bowed down and he tightened his grip on my trembling fingers. Seconds went by, thirty, sixty, ninety. Finally, the king spoke and his first words sent my already racing heart into a beat like a hummingbird’s wings.

“I should exile you.”