31. BAEL

31

BAEL

UNDERNEATH

A breathtakingly beautiful woman knelt in front of me.

She'd approached slowly, her hips swaying and her dark curls bouncing around her shoulders, before lowering herself to the floor in front of my throne and bowing her head in reverence. "My lord," she murmured, her voice like honey.

Rising from my seat, I descended the stairs toward her with slow, deliberate steps, letting my gaze trail over her lovely features. I stopped in front of her, close enough to touch. "You may rise."

With a delicate gracefulness, she rose to her feet and took a step closer…

I swung my arm back with all my strength and smashed my fist into the side of her head.

Several courtiers gasped at the sound of the woman's skull cracking, and scrambled out of the way as she went flying backwards across the room. She landed in a heap on the stone floor, leaving the room in silence.

I squinted over at her. Hmm. That must have been thirty feet—possibly a new personal record. I should write that down.

"My lord!" A feeble voice stammered from somewhere to my right.

I held up a hand to halt him, my gaze still fixed on the woman. She looked dead, or at the very least knocked out, but I knew better.

The first time I'd had to fight one of these things I'd hesitated because it was female. Or at least, it looked female. The bruxa walked around looking like young, high fae women, but once angered they shifted back into their true form.

And that true form was disgusting.

Sure enough, across the room the thing that had once resembled a young fae woman leapt to its enormous webbed feet.

It towered nearly fifteen feet tall. Its body was gray and boney, and I could see its internal organs moving around beneath its paper-thin skin. It looked down at me with huge, milky-white eyes and snarled showing a mouth of brown fangs.

I snapped my own fangs together menacingly. Come on, let's get this over with,

Rising to the challenge, the thing charged running directly at me with enough force to bowl over a team of oxen. I waited until it was close, then I launched myself into the air and landed gracefully on four powerful paws. As I'd anticipated, the bruxa skidded to a halt, its weird milky white eyes going wide.

Not giving the beast a chance to recover, I lunged forward, raking at its hollow chest with my claws.

Within seconds the entire thing was over and I stalked back across the hall to lie on the carpet in front of my throne. That one was really too easy.

There seemed to be some sort of rumor going around Underneath that I'd make an easy kill. People were saying that I wasn't really Gancanaghs son. That I hadn't killed him, and that I was a weak seelie prince, sent here by the capital to turn Underneath into another high fae city.

Now, challenger after challenger was showing up at the court to try and take the crown.

On my first morning here I'd had to fight seven duels, one after another, until finally one of my father's former servants told everyone to go home and come back tomorrow. Every day since had been exactly the same.

Eighteen hours a day, I sat in the throne room and waited for monster after monster to try and kill me. I would kill them instead, sometimes two or three per hour, and then I'd get to sleep for a few hours before we did it all again.

I loved it.

If not for the fact that I couldn't see Lonnie, I would have never wanted to leave.

I let my eyes roll back into my head, searching. Every time I thought of Lonnie—which was more often than was probably healthy—I always felt the urge to search for her. When they'd all been in Inbetwixt it was easy enough to watch her, but now they'd moved, and I wasn't sure which city they'd decided to search next.

I let my eye search several streets in Overcast before blinking and returning to the task in front of me.

On the other side of the room, the waiting challengers were recovering from their shock over the Brexa. I could hear the murmuring as they egged each other on, choosing someone to face me next.

I was eying a sturdy looking troll with a large spiked club, thinking he might be a fun challenge, when the voice of my advisor rang out again.

"My lord!" This time, unwilling to be ignored, Draven darted out from behind the throne and stood directly in front of me.

Draven was a short, thin man who didn't look like he would be much in a fight. He reminded me a bit too much of Mordant, making me predisposed to hate him. Still, he still might prove useful. There were so many things about Underneath that I didn't know.

"I believe we should conclude for the day, your majesty," Draven said imploringly.

"Why?" I growled, before remembering he wouldn't understand me. I abruptly shifted back. "Why?"

He looked nervous, and averted his gaze from my lack of clothing before continuing. "I have a list you might like to go through."

"A list?" I didn't think I'd ever sounded so disgusted in my life.

"Yes. Of potential challengers. I'll gladly explain further once…" he trailed off, jerking his head meaningfully at the group milling around the edges of the hall.

"Once there's no audience?" I guessed.

"Precisely."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Send them away until tomorrow. I'm going to take a bath, I'm covered in guts."

He looked revolted, but bowed. "Yes lord."

Though I'd only suggested the idea to avoid Draven, I still returned to my chambers and took an extraordinarily long bath. Partly because I hadn't had the chance to bathe in far too long, and partly because I'd finally located Lonnie and wanted to watch her.

I soaked in the hot water as I watched her arriving in Nevermore. She climbed into some sleigh with Ambrose and I practically vibrated with anger at how cold and miserable she looked. Why wasn't Ambrose doing anything to help her? Who the fuck was that woman driving them?

My bath water churned, and I struggled to get my leaking magic back under control.

Then, thankfully, Scion appeared and took her back into the castle. At least someone gave a fuck if she froze to death.

I watched Lonnie for nearly an hour longer than I should have. First to make sure she was alright and that her injuries were healed. Then, because things turned more interesting.

Whatever conversation Lonnie and Scion were having had quickly gone from serious to heated. I raised my eyebrows, my pulse beginning to race as I watched Scion slap her bare cunt with the palm of his hand.

Was it fucked up to watch them? Absolutely. But I was so far beyond caring. Anyway, I reasoned with myself, it wasn't as if I hadn't seen it before.

I gripped my cock beneath the water, squeezing tightly as I watched her climb on top of him and begin to move. She rolled her hips, tits bouncing, her mouth parting in ecstasy. I wished I could be there. I wanted to suck on her pretty nipples and play with her clit while she got herself off on Scion's cock.

I lingered long enough to watch Lonnie come, then yanked myself back to the present. Unsure if I felt more or less relaxed than before, I got out of the bath and went to track down my advisor.

The halls of the palace of Underneath were just as long and winding as those in the obsidian palace. I wasn't yet familiar enough with the castle to quickly shadow walk from room to room, so I had to walk at a normal pace. It was a slow process, and it took me at least ten minutes to get anywhere.

Lost in thought, I wandered down the dimly lit hallway, unaware of my surroundings. Suddenly, a loud caw and the sound of flapping wings jolted me out of my reverie. I stumbled backwards as a large raven landed on my shoulder, its beady eyes staring directly into mine.

"Agh!" I yelled, flailing my arms to shake it off. "What the fuck! Get off me!"

Quill squawked in outrage, but his talons just dug deeper into my flesh, gripping my shoulder as if his life depended on it.

Which, it motherfucking did, because I was finally going to make good on my longstanding promise to kill the evil thing.

I'd never liked Scion's horrible bird even when I was a child. I was a cat, and therefore the bird and I were natural enemies. But that wasn't the problem. I was positive that it wasn't merely a bird as Scion claimed. It had some sort of malevolent presence. A dark soul trapped inside it that brought destruction wherever it went.

I grabbed for the birds neck, trying to choke it until it let go of me, but it pecked violently at my hand.

"Agh!" I yelled again, drawing my hand back quickly to escape the razor sharp beak.

I spun down the hallway, slamming into walls attempting to shake the thing loose—or better yet smash its head against the stone.

When that failed, I tried magic, but I couldn't get the aim right. I destroyed several paintings, a vase, and an entire damn wall before giving up.

Eventually I collapsed on the floor, entirely spent. The bird sat on my shoulder, cooing softly.

"What are you?" I panted, not sure if I was asking the bird personally or the gods themselves. "Do you realize I've killed several dozen monsters in just the last day alone? Trolls, goblins, brexa are no problem, but then there's you."

The bird chattered, and I could fucking swear it was laughing at me.

"What do you want from me?" I demanded. "I wrote your letter. What else is there?"

The bird cocked its head at me, its huge fathomless eyes peering into mine. I could swear it was saying. "Take me with you, you stupid prick."

I threw my hands up in indignation. "Fine. Fine! You can come to the meeting. It's not as if I can be rid of you anyway. Demonic fucking bird…"

I was still muttering when I stepped into Dravens's office, Quill still on my shoulder.

The advisor glanced at the bird, then looked away, evidently deciding not to ask. I had kept him waiting a long time, and I supposed he was hoping to get this over quickly.

"Well, what is it?" I asked flatly.

Draven's eyebrows angled in annoyance. "I thought you'd like to know that you've rallied the support of two thirds of the country in only a matter of days. It's impressive, certainly. Some credit must be given to your father, of course. Gancanagh was an unusually stable ruler, and the continuity of father to son makes many feel confident in your leadership. The majority of the support, however, is coming from news of your many duels, so that credit is yours alone."

I raised an eyebrow. He was being far too complimentary, and many years experience had taught me that when advisors were too kind it meant bad news was coming swiftly.

"Who's the other third who doesn't support me?" I asked.

"Ah." Draven laid out a list on the nearby desk and gestured for me to look.

I read through it quickly. None of the names were the slightest bit familiar. "These are all challengers?"

"Not exactly," Draven said. "These are influential citizens who do not wish to challenge for the crown, and are instead voicing their lack of support publicly. They think you are too seelie to lead the unseelie."

"Why?" I snapped.

He gestured at me vaguely.

"Your…appearance doesn't help. We are a kingdom of monsters in search of other monsters to lead us."

I grimaced. If only he knew how well that described me. But apparently that didn't matter because I looked like high fae. Ironically, in the other court, I was too unseelie. There didn't seem to be any way to win such an argument.

"I can't say I knew my father well." Or at all. " But it would be hard to deny we looked similar."

"True," Draven agreed. "But Gancanagh spent the majority of his time in his beast form."

I grunted in some vague agreement. I could do that. The only problem was I couldn't speak in that form as my father had been able to. But perhaps with practice?

"If you want my advice…" Draven hedged.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?"

"Yes. Well, I suggest that you choose a name from this list and make an example of them. Call them here to fight, or go to them. It makes no difference. All that matters is that the duel is seen."

I raised my eyebrow. That wasn't a bad idea. I leaned over the list again. "Who?"

He pointed at a name at the very bottom of the list. "I would suggest you start here."

I frowned. I had no way of knowing if that was a good suggestion or not.

On a whim I would undoubtably regret later, I turned to the bird on my shoulder. "What do you think?"

Quill tittered, and it sounded like. "I thought you'd never ask. You must be less stupid than you look."

The bird hopped off my shoulder at last. I quickly reached up to massage the tender flesh as I watched the bird reading the list—No, it was looking at the list; birds couldn't read.

As if it could hear my thoughts, Quill looked up at me before pecking his beak into the center of one of the names.

I picked up the list, peering at a tiny hole in the center of the name "Apophis." No last name.

"Right," I said briskly. "I'll go meet with that one, then. Where do I find him—or is it a she?"

Draven's eyes widened and he trembled slightly. "Lord, I'm not sure?—"

" Where do I find them ?" I asked again, every word over-pronounced.

"In the mountains, lord. Apophis is a dragon."