Chapter 71

Silas

Asking for anything from my father was an exercise in stupidity, and yet here we were, standing outside his office and waiting like new recruits facing discipline from the general himself.

"He's making us wait for a reason," I explained to the other two, not liking the faint tremor in my voice. Calm, always calm, with my father, lest he unman you completely. My lungs sucked in air much more slowly, my breathing trying to force my heartbeat to slow, but the moment I felt any peace, I saw that fucking bruise. Jessalyn's arm was so pale, so slender. The girl was as tiny as a bird, and Magnus… I shook my head. "This is all just a mild form of psychological warfare. He wants us off balance. The bastard is probably sitting there at his desk, heels up, just idling away his time until we start to break."

"So let's not break, brother."

Roan pulled out a small flask he carried for just this sort of thing–battles usually, or tricky missions. He waggled it before me, smiling slightly when I took a long swallow from the contents. The harsh burn of rum hit me like a punch to the chest, but it soon had my muscles loosening.

"Not break." I nodded. "Good plan. Good plan…"

But anything further I might have to say was cut off by the door being jerked open.

"A little birdie told me that you might be returning," Father said with a smirk.

"Have your little birdies informed you that Khean hovers on the brink of war," Arik said, pushing past my father and entering the Raven's office like he owned the place. Princes. None of them seemed to possess an ounce of diplomacy. "And I won't do anything to stop it, not until the king is deposed."

"You needn't have taken things that far, Your Highness," Father replied smoothly, all while shooting me a meaningful look.

He'd sent me to Arik to manage the prince, position him where we needed him. An accident of birth allowed Arik all these privileges, it was up to us to ensure he used them correctly. But Father had always said that the best lie is one that's mostly true. In pretending to be Arik's friend, I'd become just that in reality. Arik, Roan, and Creed commanded my loyalty, not the avaricious old crow that came inside my mother's cunt.

"No? If you had a much better plan to depose my brother, why haven't you put it in place?"

Arik was going straight for the throat, but I knew the answer. Magnus met with my father before he ascended to the throne. The Raven had no doubt given him advice about how to slay the king and maintain control of the country. I hadn't been present for those meetings, being too young, but it wasn't hard to put two and two together. The old king had been largely immune to my father's influence, but his ‘son' wasn't. Father just hoped Arik was equally as impressionable.

"And where would we be if I did?" Father asked him, walking over to a brandy decanter and then offering it to the rest of us. It'd go down smoother than Roan's rotgut rum, but we all shook our heads. "Between a mad king and a prince that failed to claim his birthright, I'm forced to take my chances with the mad one. Magnus, for all his flaws, was able to take the throne."

"Well, I'm ready to take it now." Father and Arik's gazes locked, staring on and on until Father forced himself to smile and look away. "But I won't be your puppet. Tell me what the hell it is that you want, and I'll negotiate in good faith now, but don't go thinking you're the one pulling my strings."

But that's exactly what Father would think.

There would be a period of upheaval following the death of Magnus, but the Bastard Prince taking the throne? Arik's natural magnetism always shone through, no matter where he was. He'd swoop in, bring order to the capital, execute the worst of the nobility, and then use Creed to renegotiate terms with the wolf shifters. The country would be more peaceful than it ever had been. I hoped that my father would be able to see what a boon that would be.

"Exclusive rights to run my types of… establishments in the city," Father said. "I care not for penny brothels operating out in rural idylls, but all control of gaming dens and ale houses within the city falls to me."

"You wish to set up a cartel?"

Arik's eyes narrowed.

"I wish to operate like any other guild. Those who wish to do business in the industries that I control must do so under my auspices."

"Guilds traditionally vote in their grand masters," Arik shot back.

"Then like a king." Few people seemed to be able to endure my prince's stare, but Father did. Perhaps because despite the fact his ‘realm' contained some of the worst of humanity, he knew where he was in that pile of dung.

At the top.

He'd waited his whole life for exactly this moment, I began to think, where a member of the royal house of Khean, the old king's own blood, was forced to recognise that.

"I'll make you king of Khean if you acknowledge my position as king of the nightlife, king of the brothels, king of the assassins, the piss pot boys—"

"I get the point, Raven," Arik snapped. "I've hardly been living the life of privilege since my father's death." His expression darkened. "Even before then."

But he didn't know, not really. I wanted to warn Arik, but there was no speaking over my father, not unless I was prepared to challenge him. He was Raven until I proved I was.

"What're you proposing?" Arik asked Father. "What plan do you have in place to bring down my brother, and how do I know you won't do the same to me? The king is nothing but paranoid. He has tasters for his tasters and a unicorn horn ring of far better quality than mine. His guards are a particularly effective branch of soldiers, picked from the army ranks for both their skill and complete lack of morals. If it was just a matter of poisoning the bastard or sneaking into his bed at night and slitting his throat, I would've killed my brother long ago, simply to rid the world of his pestilent presence."

"And I would've made sure you didn't." I expected many things from my father, but not this. He complained about Magnus more than anyone, but… "Not until I knew who was going to take King Magnus' place. I want, no, need stability for my businesses to thrive, and I will have it. It's what I require from you, Prince Arik. Well, that and some of my hand-picked people being granted the lands of the people you're going to need to… remove if your pathway to the throne is to be clear."

"What?"

I thought it was Roan saying that and went to hiss at him to be silent, only to realise it was me. Father turned and watched me blink madly, trying to process what was said.

"What legacy did you think I was leaving you, son?" His gentle tone was at complete odds with what I knew of the man who was my father. "You've never shown the same sort of bloodlust, the same cunning that you'd need to be Raven. I sent you to play at war with princes and you became just like all the other soldier boys. If you're to stay by your precious prince's side, you'll need a title and lands, a legitimate life where everyone at court can pretend very hard that you're not the son of a thief and whoremonger."

"Titles for some of your people," Arik said, adopting the tone of a fruit seller haggling at market. "Lands as well. I've got a list of those who need to be removed from their positions. Men who stood by when my father was assassinated. No, worse, who conspired with Magnus to kill their liege lord to ensure their lands, their influence, grew. A thief or an assassin is as good a person as any as long as I can rely on their support."

You can't, I wanted to shout. Never trust them. Never!

"Well, if we're in agreement, come through." Father walked over to the massive doors set into the side of his office that led into the meeting room. Usually this was the place where all the heads of families met, but it wasn't the Grimes or the Rosas I saw when the doors were jerked open.

"Lord Fallspire…?"

The duke that supported Arik's claim to the throne. The one who knew that Arik was the king's legitimate son and Magnus was not. Ariel's father. He stood then, several of the other grizzled border lords doing the same as we entered the room.

"Prince Arik, last true-born son of King Alfred." The Duke announced Arik's titles like a seneschal might courtiers newly arrived at court. "Son…" The big, bluff man opened his arms and walked forward before taking Arik in a rough hug. "The borders are undefended, and raids are already taking place. Our enemies are testing our mettle and finding us wanting, so, what're we going to do about this?"

The other lords all let out rumbling sounds of discontent.

"What should've always been done," one man with a thick beard said. "That bastard usurper has sat on the throne for far too long and look now at what's happened. The king must die!"

Plenty of men shouted and cheered at that, as if those words weren't treason, but then, Arik said the words I'd longed to hear.

"You're right, of course." He nodded as he looked at everyone here. "The king must die. How do you propose we achieve that?"