Chapter 51

Chapter 51

CALLUM

C allum had been to the palace only once, back when he was a small child.

It had been for a party of sorts, though after so many years he couldn’t recall the reason behind the celebration. Father had dressed him in black, lined with a deep red. Delilah used to go to these events with him, dressed in a gown of the same colors, but Delilah had just died, and Alastair was gone more often than he was home, leaving Callum as the only one who was left. That, more than any other reason, was why his father had taken him that night.

Even then, Callum had known he was something like a consolation prize, but that night he hadn’t cared, not even a little. He had been so excited to dress up, so excited to see the palace, to meet Witches. He never saw much of anyone, aside from Winston, who never wanted to play with him, and Alastair, who grew quieter and quieter, angrier and angrier as the days went on.

Witches were the Faction closest to the Goddess, or so everyone said. Callum wanted to know what that meant. Wanted to meet these holy creatures, so blessed by the divine, wanted to share in their joy.

Father had told him to stay close at his side, that night, but Callum couldn’t help himself. He’d run off the moment he’d seen a group of other children, eager to meet new friends.

“Hi!” he’d said, delighted, when he’d approached them.

And they’d smiled at him, big welcoming smiles, and greeted him right back. They’d told him their names, and some of them even told him the names of their families, as though that conveyed some special piece of information to him. They’d seemed so nice, and he was so excited to play with them.

But when he’d smiled back at them and started to tell them his name, they’d paled. They’d gone from happy to scared so quickly, and he hadn’t understood that sudden change until one of them had hissed it at him like a curse.

“ Leech !”

That was the first time Callum knew what it meant to be hated.

Callum stayed by his father’s side for the rest of the night after that, hiding behind his legs and keeping to himself. He’d been glad when his father went to the next party alone.

And now, as Callum waited outside the entrance to the palace throne room, he couldn’t help but remember the fear he’d seen in those children’s eyes when they’d seen him.

How different would the realm be today if he’d stayed and played with them that night? If he’d shown them that he wasn’t all that different, wasn’t scary, wasn’t the monster they thought his father was. How different would things be if his father had kept bringing him, if he’d been allowed to spend time with the Witches at those parties, to make them laugh, to tell them stories?

What would the world be like if they had gotten a chance to know him?

A noise from behind him startled Callum from his revery, and he turned to see a dark-skinned Witch stalking toward him. She was handsome and built like a fighter, all muscles and sharp angles. When she spotted him standing there, she froze, mouth opening in shock.

“Alastair?” she asked, a mixture of surprise and disgust in her voice.

Callum nearly laughed.

“Sorry, no,” he said, giving her a welcoming smile. “I’m the other one. ”

“Oh.” Readjusting her attitude, the Witch approached, eyeing him warily. “You must be the new deSanguine. We haven’t met, yet. I’m Alice, the representative of the Witch Faction.”

She looked him up and down, assessing him.

“Please, call me Callum,” he told her, offering her his hand. “I’m still not used to the title.”

Alice nodded, taking his hand in her own and shaking it. Then, seemingly as though she had to, she added, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Are you?” Callum asked, more curious than anything. “Are you, really? I’m not na?ve to my father’s reputation, Alice. Especially amongst your Faction. Especially to an ex-Blade.”

The Fallen King. To the Witch standing before him, his father would have represented something terrible. An enemy. A constant threat to the crown.

Already, Callum was so, so tired of it all. Tired of living in the shadows of wars he’d never fought.

The Witch before him gave him a long, assessing look before she answered. “Whatever your father was,” Alice said, “he was committed to this council. He did a lot of good over the last few years. I might not have called him a friend, but—” She took a deep breath. “But in the end, I don’t think I would have called him an enemy. I am sorry for your loss, Callum. Sorry for the realm’s loss. He will be missed.”

Callum swallowed hard against the sudden lump in his throat.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I appreciate hearing that.”

Alice turned away, allowing him a moment of privacy with his emotions.

“Have you met the other council members?” she asked, motioning toward the throne room.

Callum shook his head. He cleared his throat, pulling himself together. He was the deSanguine now. He wasn’t some child, yearning to play with the others.

“Come with me, then,” the Witch said, stepping forward and opening the door.

There were more people there than he expected. Callum glanced around, curious. Each Faction supposedly only had one representative. With him and Alice representing two of the four Factions, shouldn’t there only be two more people here?

“Leandra. Linh.” Alice greeted the two older Witches waiting next to the long oak table wearily. “This is an unexpected surprise.”

Unexpected and unpleasant, her tone suggested. Callum watched the Witches closely.

“Who is this?” the oldest of the women asked, looking Callum up and down. He may as well have been a piece of animal shit Alice had tracked in on her boots.

“The new deSanguine,” Alice announced.

“Is he?” a delicate voice asked from the table, and Callum turned to regard the speaker. This was no Eternal City accent. This voice was older, older even than some of the eldest Vampires. The woman who spoke was the only one seated, though she stood gracefully as he turned his gaze to her.

“Welcome, new deSanguine,” she said. “I knew your father for many years. Not all of them unpleasant.”

Her voice was like a poisoned sweet, and something in the aura around her sent a shiver of fear down his spine. From somewhere deep in the banks of his memory, he pulled out the name.

“Kallista,” Callum said, and her mouth curved to a slight smile. “My father spoke of you. Often, and with great respect.”

“Liar,” the Demon whispered, but her smile perked even more.

“We need to talk,” the older of the Witches—Linh—was saying to Alice. “Without all of these...” She glanced over at Kallista and Callum coldly. “These spectators.”

“Actually, you’re the spectator here, Linh,” Alice answered, walking around her to come and sit at the council table. Callum did the same, following her only to pause before the remaining two chairs.

Which one was his?

A barely perceivable nod from Kallista indicated the chair to her right, so Callum took the hint graciously and sat, inclining his head to her in thanks.

“They are members of the council,” Alice continued. “But you, and you as well, Leandra, are the spectators here.”

“We are advisors to?— ”

“No. No, you’re not,” Alice cut her off quickly. “You were advisors to the princess, and you were advisors to me. Before you abdicated your duties, just as she did, and left representing our Faction to Sana and myself. You haven’t been advisors to anything for months, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you claim the title now, just because it benefits you to do so.”

The other Witch, Leandra, had the decency to look ashamed, but the older woman’s fury only grew. She opened her mouth but was interrupted as the door to their back opened, and a Witch near to Alice’s age stepped into the room.

This Witch, wearing a soft blue robe, blinked in surprise, looking at first to Callum, then to Leandra and finally to Linh.

“I’ll get more chairs,” she said, decidedly, and then turned and practically fled from the room.

Alice sighed.

“You forget, Alice, that we are the ones who gave you this seat on the council,” Linh said threateningly. And we can take it away , her smug face seemed to finish saying.

“And you forget that you had to practically beg me to take it,” Alice answered in a cold voice. “I doubt much has changed since then.”

“Is this what they’re always like?” Callum asked Kallista loudly, earning a glare from Linh and a wince from Alice. “These meetings?”

“Oh no,” Kallista assured him. “Sometimes they’re much worse.”

“We have an issue to bring up with the council,” Leandra said, diplomatically placing a hand on Linh’s arm while giving Alice a measured look. “We wish to have our concern heard, that is all.”

“I do not wish to bring up my concerns with the council, I wish to bring it up with her,” Linh spat, pointing a finger at Alice, who snorted and rolled her eyes.

The door behind them opened once again, and two servants appeared, carrying extra chairs to place around the table. The blue Witch appeared with them, gave them a gentle smile of thanks, and took a seat in one of the spare chairs next to Alice.

“Please, Linh, Leandra, have a seat,” Alice said, sounding exhausted. “Callum, I apologize. The council has been under a lot of pressure, and I let my temper get the better of me. Let me introduce you to everyone. ”

She motioned to each of the women in turn as they took their seats. “This is Leandra, head of the Fire Coven, and Linh, head of the Air Coven. Sana here is head of the Water Coven and also keeps records for all of our meetings.”

Sana smiled pleasantly at him, and Callum returned the gesture easily. She, at least, didn’t seem too bad.

“Ah,” Alice said, turning as the throne room doors opened and an attractive male entered. “And here’s the last of us. Callum, this is the Shifter representative, Silas.”

“Not for long,” the male said, mouth tight with anger as he approached. Alice straightened in her chair, clearly thrown off, and in her moment of confusion, the Shifter crossed the floor and thrust an envelope at her.

“What is this?” Alice asked, taking it from him. She held it lightly between her fingers, making no move to open it.

“My resignation from this council,” the Shifter announced. “Effective immediately.”