Chapter Three

CHARLIE

Icouldn't believe we were here. Walking the halls of this palace felt like a dream. Eddie was alive, and everyone's families were okay. Sure, there were aspects of this palace that were made of illusion magic, but our friends were real, and it was a miracle beyond anything I could ever imagine.

I was still trying to wrap my head around it the next morning. When I woke up, I couldn't remember where I was. For a moment, I thought I had awoken in my cell back at the Institute. Then I felt the morning sun on my face, and the weight of Ava-Marie's head on my chest, and I remembered I was free of that place. Oberi was laying across my legs and snoring loudly. I ran my fingers across the silk sheets, then over Ava's soft skin. She stirred awake, and her form instantly stiffened in my arms as she startled awake with a gasp.

"It's okay, pidge," I whispered quickly. "It's just me."

Ava relaxed into me, giving a blissful sigh. "Oh, Charlie. I almost forgot we were safe."

I kissed the top of her head. "When you're in my arms, pidge, you'll always be safe."

Ava snuggled back into me, and her breathing slowed. I took in all the sensations around me, burning this beautiful morning into my memory. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and I had the most amazing woman in my arms. And the bed— dear ancestors, the bed. It was more comfortable than anything I'd ever experienced. War or not, life couldn't get any better than this.

Leaves rustled, and the sound came from our room, not outside. "What's that?" I asked curiously.

"Sprigs. The servants brought him a potted lemon tree to live in, and he's hopping from leaf to leaf," Ava explained. "He really likes it."

I was glad the little guy was enjoying himself, because I was, too. Ava and I stayed tangled up for a long time, until we heard servants enter our living quarters. The delicious scent of fried meat and fresh eggs filled my nose. Oberi perked up from the end of the bed and sniffed the air. His tail thumped against the mattress.

Bacon! Oberi exclaimed, before jumping off the bed. Finally, the type of service I deserve.

What a humble dog you are. I helped Ava out of bed and into her chair, then wheeled her out into the living area. The servants were already gone, but they'd left trays of warm food for us. I lifted the cover on one, and ancestors, the scent of bacon smelled like heaven. I wasn't entirely convinced I hadn't died and ended up in paradise.

I dug in, though not before Oberi snatched half the bacon in his mouth and ran off with it. I shoved bacon and eggs into my mouth, and washed it down with the most delicious orange juice I'd ever tasted. There were croissants, and mixed fruit, and all types of pastries I'd never even heard of. Every piece of food I put into my mouth was more divine than the last.

This was different from the Institute, where the cafeteria only allowed you to take so much, or you had to worry about other inmates stealing food off your plate. No one was bothering us here, and we could have as much as we wanted.

My stomach expanded the more I ate, and I realized for what felt like the first time in my life that I was full. Still, I couldn't stop eating. I didn't want any of it to go to waste. There were starving people all over the world, and it would be wrong to let any of this rot?—

I paused mid-bite. I realized Ava was chewing slowly, as if this was a normal meal for her. Come to think of it, she'd only leaned over me once to grab a pastry. She'd hardly eaten anything.

"Pidge, how much food is left?" I asked.

"We haven't even eaten half of it. Why?" she replied.

My very full stomach sank, and I pushed myself away from the table. "This is too much. It's not fair that we're given more than our share. I'm a prince now. I won't sit here in gluttony while people in my kingdom go hungry."

"Charlie, there's enough food here for everyone in Ilamanthe," Ava said.

Her words barely registered at first, because I didn't think it was possible. After a few beats, it sank in.

"Everyone?" I wondered. "Even the people who don't live in the palace?"

"Yes," Ava said.

I furrowed my brow. "Food has always been a scarce resource in my world. How can there be enough for everyone?"

"There's always enough food," Ava said. "The people of Ilamanthe choose to distribute it fairly, rather than punish those without access. When people go hungry, it isn't because there aren't enough resources. It's because people in power choose to withhold them, because they make more profit when people have to struggle."

I felt resistance to the thought, even though I wasn't sure where it came from. "I thought there was only so much to go around, and not enough for everyone to share."

"That's just what you were taught. The world isn't a pie. Just because one person gets a slice doesn't mean they're taking something away from someone else. There's enough on this planet to support everyone, and for everybody to thrive. But some people don't see it that way, so they think that hoarding what they have is going to protect them somehow."

It was a completely new concept to me— everyone getting access to what they needed, regardless of how society chose to judge them. It was exactly what I wanted as prince.

"If we can give everyone food, then we can give them whatever they need," I realized. "Access to housing, healthcare… we could set up a universal base income so everyone's needs are met."

Nobody would have to be poor and homeless like I did. Nobody would have to starve, or fight to obtain what they needed to survive. It was an amazing way to think.

Ava reached out to touch my hand. "I know you aren't sure about this prince thing, but you're already thinking like one. And when the crown is passed on to you, you're going to make a great Emperor."

For the first time, I dared to dream what that would be like. Being Emperor wasn't about living here in this fancy castle, getting whatever I wanted. It was about helping the people out there. Ilamanthe may be a paradise on Earth, but there were still people outside of this city who needed our help. Once we rescued the supernaturals from the Warden's concentration camps, they could join us here, where everyone was taken care of. Sharing what we had was the only true way to end peoples' suffering. The Warden was going about it in all the wrong ways.

"I don't understand why the Warden is forcing people to follow him and join The Mission, if his true desire is to stop suffering. There are other ways to do it with the tools he already has," I said.

"Because the Warden doesn't really want to stop suffering. He just believes he does," Ava said coldly. "He likes the idea of keeping everyone under his control. He believes if he has ultimate power, he'll be able to craft the world to his liking. He wants everyone to think, act, and behave like he does, without any outliers. The world wouldn't be beautiful if everyone was the same. In fact, it's more dangerous if no one is allowed to be different."

Ava sighed. "People like us don't belong in the Warden's world. Which is why we have to stop him."

I thought about all the things I could do once I took the crown. It actually made me excited to think the kind of impact a guy like me could have on this planet. I'd seen so much shit in my life, and I didn't want my people to ever go through what I had.

I took another bite, but I barely thought about it. It was just… instinctual. Ava assured me there was enough to go around, and still, I didn't feel like I could let any of it go to waste.

It's okay to stop eating, Oberi assured me. There will always be more.

"It doesn't feel like it," I admitted. "I've never had this much food in my life. When you grow up with food as a limited resource, you learn to eat as much as you can when it's there, because you don't know when you'll be able to eat again. And the food is so good. Growing up, a meal to me was a plate of mashed potatoes, or a piece of bread for dinner— that was it. I never had so many options. I don't know what it's like to choose to just leave food off my plate."

Ava placed her hand on mine. "You're going to get used to it, because there's no way Oberi and I are letting you go back to that place again. You won't go hungry anymore, and you'll always have a choice from now on."

Her words were comforting, but I had to learn to believe them. It was so hard to trust that what I had wouldn't be taken away.

I stuffed myself until I couldn't take another bite. Just as Ava and I finished our breakfast, a knock came at the door, and the servants returned to take our plates. Several other people entered the room, and I heard the sound of something rolling in behind them.

"Sire, are you ready for your fitting?" Eddie asked.

"Fitting?" I wondered.

"Oh, yes, we have a very busy day," Eddie said. "The royal tailor has accompanied me this morning to get your measurements, so you can be properly fitted into your suit. Our royal stylists have brought some outfit options for the princess as well."

"Ooh, that dress is pretty." Ava rolled toward the stylists, and hangers clicked together as she started looking through the outfits they'd brought.

You didn't tell me there'd be hats! Oberi ran past me, nearly knocking my chair over.

"Eddie, I really don't need a suit," I protested. "I'm fine in my regular clothes."

"The Emperor requests it," Eddie stated. "You're a prince now, and must look the part. Think of it as your uniform."

If the Emperor required it, then I guess I didn't have a choice. I wanted to show my grandfather I respected his position, so I would do as he said.

The tailor had me stand with my arms straight out while he measured what felt like every inch of me. I had no idea fitting into a suit could be so complicated. I thought it was as simple as grabbing a suit off the rack in my size and slipping it on. Turns out it was more like an intricate science, apparently.

Ava found a dress she liked, and the stylists worked on her hair and makeup while I stood there with the tailor. He got my measurements, then had me sit for the stylists. Several people surrounded me all at once. Someone ran their fingers through my hair and asked how I liked to wear it. I didn't care much for style, so I explained the way Ava liked it slicked back, and they began running gel through the strands. They even trimmed the beard I'd grown during our time on the run.

Oberi breathed a blissful sigh as one of the stylists brushed out his fur.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

Is something wrong? Ava asked through the bond.

Nothing's wrong, I assured her. It's just new. I'm not used to getting services like this.

I really like watching you get pampered, Ava replied. Maybe manicures can be our thing now. I'm loving it.

Ava's enthusiasm bled through our bond, and I found myself getting a little excited, too. It was definitely strange, being waited on like I was someone important, but the way the stylists made conversation and were so nice to us, it felt natural. I didn't want to see myself as above them, or like their job was any less important than mine. They were merely my colleagues, helping to run this kingdom alongside me. The less I had to worry about how I looked, the more I could worry about my people. We all had a role to play, and just because my job was more public didn't make any one of these people any less valuable.

I vowed then to always treat these people as my equals. I wouldn't be the kind of prince that let this stuff go to my head.

When the stylists finished, the tailor helped me into a suit. I thought suits were supposed to be scratchy and uncomfortable, like the one I'd worn during the Villain's Ball, but this suit was soft and comfortable— like wearing pajamas.

Something in the room changed when I put that suit on. I felt like I stood taller, but there was also this energy coming off from everyone else that seemed… I don't know… more respectful?

"How do you feel?" Ava asked.

At the same time, her internal thoughts slipped through. He looks so fucking hot. I can't wait to get that suit off him.

I smirked. I stretched my arms out to the side, then took a few steps across the room. The suit moved with me like it was an extension of my body. Even the shoes felt form-fitted to my feet. I thought that in this suit, I would be respected.

"It feels great," I said honestly. You're going to have a hard time getting it off of me, I teased Ava.

Believe me, it won't take much, she joked back.

It was weird, because I wasn't the type of guy to wear suits. Put me in a pair of ripped-up jeans and a cotton t-shirt and I was good to go.

Or so I thought, up until this point. As I ran my fingers over the soft fabric, I realized how much I liked it. I used to think things like this were over the top and unnecessary, but maybe it wasn't that I didn't like nice things. Maybe it was that I'd never had the opportunity to enjoy them before.

That realization hit me hard, and I had to excuse myself from the room as the stylists cleaned up. I exited through the sliding door that led onto the balcony. Sunlight touched my face, and a warm breeze passed through my hair. Even though on some level I enjoyed the pampering and I loved the new suit, my stomach tangled into knots.

Ava wheeled onto the balcony. She must've felt that something was off, because she asked, "Don't you like it?"

I ran my fingers over the railing, because I didn't know what else to do with my hands. "Yeah, it's great… it's just?—"

I cut off as my fingers trailed over various raised bumps engraved onto the railing. At first, I thought they were just pretty designs, until I realized I recognized the patterns. "This railing is engraved with braille," I remarked in awe.

Ava wheeled even closer. "The builders must've left some sort of message for you. What does it say?"

I started on the left side of the balcony and began reading. "It's a description of the view," I realized. "It describes the sea, reaching out to the horizon, and the skyscrapers… wow, I didn't realize the buildings here were so tall. I didn't know how big Ilamanthe was."

"It's pretty big. There are a lot of refugees from all supernatural races here," Ava said. "I've been looking around our room, and I noticed there's braille embedded in a lot of places, on plaques on the walls and such. This palace was made so you could get around easily, and see it the same way other people can."

I got choked up and turned away from her. Ava reached out for my hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"This feels too good to be true," I admitted. "There's the food, then the stylists, and now this. Someone cared enough to make this view accessible to someone like me. I've never had that kind of equal treatment before. It's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's still a war going on out there. It's weird being in this safe, happy place with more resources than I could've ever dreamed of, while other people are still out there suffering."

"You're not a bad person because other people are suffering and you're not," Ava told me.

She understood me far too well, because that was exactly what I was thinking.

"It doesn't seem fair," I stated.

"That's because it isn't," Ava said. "But just because someone else is suffering doesn't mean you have to suffer alongside them to even the scales. Why not indulge in the good, and then do what you can to make life better for others? Isn't it more fair if we all have it good, rather than using suffering as some sort of virtue?"

Her words felt heavy, but they lifted a weight off my chest at the same time. "I guess I never saw happiness as something that we could all have. It's just another limited resource in my world."

"You can't think like that," Ava said. "Happiness isn't a limited resource that only a few get access to. It's something that we create— and you know as well as I do that as demigods, we can create whatever the hell we want. Why not joy?"

I sighed heavily. "That's a relief to think that way. But I'm not sure I can. To me, happiness was always something I had to suffer to achieve, and if I was happy, it meant someone else was suffering."

"That's not true," Ava said. "Happiness isn't something that you steal from other people so you can make it your own. It can only come from inside of you. Anyone who thinks they have to steal joy from others to feel happy are miserable pieces of shit."

I smirked. "You're right. I guess that's why the Warden's still out there hurting people, because no matter what he does to make other people suffer, it will never be enough."

"Exactly," Ava said. "So don't feel bad about creating your own happiness in the meantime, because the more you and I can create for ourselves, the more we can share that joy with others."

"I may be a demigod, but I can't just create happiness and distribute it to the masses," I said.

"Why not?" Ava asked. "You can use the power you have, not just as a prince, but as an individual, to help others, and more importantly, help yourself. Because if we all took care of our own needs, the world would be a better place. When you're full, you can think clearly and make rational decisions that will keep your people from going hungry, too."

She was talking about more than just the food. This was like a spiritual hunger that had always been hard for me to satisfy.

"The difference between a good leader and someone like the Warden is that a good leader believes that joy is limitless and everyone should have access to resources," Ava said. "The Warden doesn't believe there's enough to go around. He thinks he has to take those resources away to end suffering, but in the process, he's created the suffering he says he despises."

"We aren't going to be like the Warden," I stated.

Ava took my hand and squeezed it. "Never."

The stylists had spent a lot of time on us, so it was almost eleven o'clock before we left our room. Eddie took us on a tour of the rest of the palace, though we didn't even visit half the rooms. It was a lot of work, walking around the whole building. I pushed Ava so she didn't get tired, but I figured by the end we must've roamed at least a few miles, judging by the amount of steps I took. There were elevators for us to use, and like Ava said, braille plaques lined the walls before every door and entrance, along with beside windows.

Ava typically had to describe everything to me, but she didn't have to this time, because the palace was accessible all on its own. It was nearly miraculous.

When we returned to our suite around one o' clock, Eddie said, "Sire, it's time for lunch."

I was still full from breakfast, though that'd been hours ago. "Thanks, Eddie, but I'm not hungry."

"You misunderstand," Eddie said. "This is a meeting. Your presence has been requested."

Eddie had said we had a full schedule for the day, though I wasn't sure what that entailed. Hell, I didn't even know who I was meeting with. But this was the life of a prince, and if I wanted to change the world, it was going to have to start by making alliances— both inside the palace and out.

"All right, let's go," I said as I reached for Ava's chair.

"The princess will not be attending lunch with us," Eddie said. "She will be having lunch with Kallie, to discuss her court selection. She is permitted to choose a selection of ladies to assist her in daily tasks."

Oberi shifted into a unicorn from the other room. Count me in as a lady-in-waiting!

Ava squeezed my hand. "You've got this, Charlie. You're the prince now."

And a fine prince at that, she added through the bond. I could practically feel her eyes roaming my form, and that made me relax.

"I'll see you later, pidge," I told her, before leaning down to place a kiss on her lips.

Eddie and I left the room, and he guided me down the hallway and through a twist of stairs. This palace seemed bigger than the Institute. It was going to take me a long time to learn the layout.

The delicious scent of steak and roasted potatoes filled my nose. I wasn't hungry, but that smell alone made my mouth water. I didn't know who I was meeting with, but when I heard the sound of voices making conversation, I stopped in my tracks.

It was a man and a woman. I didn't recognize her voice, but the man's was almost too much like my own.

My father.

Eddie paused in the hall. "Do you need a moment?"

Instinctually, I wanted to hightail it in the other direction. I wasn't interested in having lunch with the father who had abandoned me…

But I was a prince now. I had to learn how to be diplomatic, even with my adversaries. Maybe my dad and I could smooth things out. It didn't have to be bad between us.

I cleared my throat and straightened my suit jacket. "No, Eddie, I'm good."

Eddie opened a door, and I stepped inside what appeared to be a private dining room. My magic swirled around the room as I took in what I could. The room wasn't very big, but there was a large table set in the center. My father and the woman clinked their glasses together. I could hear Cameron's alicorn Familiar munching on hay nearby.

"Charlie," Cameron— I mean, my father— said. I still wasn't sure what to call him. "You're early. I was expecting your grandfather to arrive first. You look nice."

"The stylists did a great job," I replied, because I didn't know what else to say.

"Charlie," the woman gushed.

She got out of her chair and wrapped me in a hug. I stiffened. The woman smelled of flowers and seemed very friendly, but it was a bit off-putting considering I had no idea who she was.

Or… had we met before? I wasn't good with voices, except for my closest friends.

"It's so great to finally introduce myself," she said in excitement. "Cameron has told me so many good things about you."

"Hmph," was all I could manage. My father didn't know anything about me. What could he possibly have to say?

Eddie pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down. He quickly got to work on setting my napkin in my lap, but I took it from him. "I've got it. Thanks."

He stepped back, and my father cleared his throat. "Charlie, I'd like you to meet Drea."

"Drea's his guard, like I'm yours!" Eddie said chipperly.

"Yes," Cameron confirmed, though I sensed hesitation in his tone. "Drea is also my wife."

The room fell dead silent, and it took me a beat to process his words. I was certain I hadn't heard him correctly. A storm brewed in my abdomen, and it took everything I had to force it back. I hid my hands under the table so he wouldn't notice them shaking.

"I'm sorry," I finally said, as calmly as I could manage. "I must've heard you wrong. You said Drea's your guard and your wife?"

"That is correct," Cameron said brightly.

This was far from the great news he thought it was. It was wrong of him to marry his guard, on so many levels. My hands curled into fists.

"I understand this may be a lot to take in," Cameron said quickly. "I know this is all still so fresh to you. It took me a long time to even consider moving on from your mother?—"

"So you forgot about Mom, like you forgot about me," I growled.

"Charlie, you know I went looking for you," Cameron insisted. "I never forgot about either one of you. Losing you both was the hardest thing I ever had to go through. It's been over twenty years?—"

"I don't care how long it's been. You gave up!" I shouted. Forget acting like a prince. I couldn't contain my anger. "If I lost my son, I'd spend a hundred years looking for him. Is she the reason you stopped looking for me? Once you decided to settle down, I didn't matter anymore?"

"It wasn't like that," Cameron insisted.

"She's your guard, Cameron!" I shouted. I didn't miss how I'd let his name slip out. I didn't feel like calling him Dad, that was for sure. "How has anyone allowed this to happen? She can't consent!"

"Charlie, please," Drea said softly. "I assure you, I married your father of my own free will."

"Yeah?" I questioned. "Or has he told you to say that? Because I know damn well Eddie will do anything I say. He's magically bound to do it."

"I would never violate Drea's free will like that," Cameron said, his tone growing angry. "To even suggest such a thing is awful."

"Just because you didn't want to violate her free will doesn't mean you didn't unintentionally," I argued. "I could say, Eddie, give me a blow job, and regardless if he wants to do it or not, he's gonna do it, because as my guard he can't disobey a command."

"Very well, sire!" Eddie said cheerfully. He ducked under the table, and his fingers reached for my waistband.

I shoved his hands away. "Eddie, stop," I ordered. "It was just supposed to be an example."

Eddie poked his head out from under the table. "Oh. I see. Point made, my prince."

He squeezed himself out from underneath the table and went to sit back down, while I raged at my father. "See what I mean? I didn't intend the order, but he went to follow it anyway!"

"Charlie, this behavior is unacceptable!" my father snapped— like I was a child. "I won't have you insult my wife to her face like this."

"Then perhaps she should leave," I stated coolly. "Eddie, why don't you and Drea give us a moment?"

Eddie started for the door immediately, but Drea hesitated, until my father told her, "It's for the best. Charlie and I have much to discuss."

Eddie and Drea exited the room, leaving Cameron and me alone.

"I understand you've been through a lot, and all of this is overwhelming," Cameron said calmly. "It was too much when I was your age, too. That's why I ran away to Kinpago, where I met your mother. However, it's unfair to take that out on my wife. I love Drea very deeply. It's not fair to expect me to never love again."

"You may love her, but the power dynamic is off," I insisted. "You're always going to be above her, and even if she wanted to, she can't say no. There are lines that you should never cross, and this is one of them."

"Don't make me out to be the villain," Cameron warned. "You can't treat my wife like she's below me just because she's my guard. She and I are equals."

My jaw dropped. I couldn't believe he had the nerve to suggest what he had. "The last thing I'd ever do is look down upon someone for where they stand in society," I sneered. "Have you forgotten that I was homeless and living on the streets? I'm fucking blind, and have lived most my life with no accommodations, let alone any money or status. In case you've forgotten, I've lived at the bottom of the barrel. I've been a prince for one fucking day. I'm not going to forget everything that happened to me— I never will."

Cameron drew in a deep breath. "I understand how hard this must be for you, but please try to comprehend that my relationship with Drea is not what you think. Yes, we connected at a vulnerable time, but she was the one who helped me through your mother's loss. I never pressured Drea to do anything, let alone fall in love with me. When I was searching for you, it nearly killed me. After the Hawkei sent you away, I did my damndest to find you, but your records led me nowhere. I wasn't even sure if you were alive. I continued searching, but I only came up with more questions. Without knowing if you were dead or alive, all I had was false hope. I wanted to keep looking for you, but there was nothing else to look for."

"I don't believe you," I insisted. "Even if my records led to a dead-end, you had magic."

"I tried to use magic," Cameron said. "None of it worked. I thought that meant you were dead. It didn't make sense at the time, but now I believe that your latent demigod magic overpowered any tracking spells I had access to. I was obsessed with finding you, to the point where it nearly killed me. Drea was the one who convinced me to give up the search."

My stomach bottomed out. "So she was the reason nobody ever found me. How long did it take you to give up after you got together? A year? Five years? What, did you marry her, then decide you were going to forget about the first family you'd created because you got a new one?"

"It's not like that," Cameron insisted. "Drea saved my life."

"How, by fucking you?" I growled.

"Ancestors, Charlie, is that all you think about?" Cameron demanded. "My relationship with Drea goes far deeper than that."

"Yeah, I'm sure it goes deep," I muttered.

Cameron's voice turned stern. "I know you're used to speaking your mind and throwing punches, but you can't act like that in the palace. If you're going to be a prince, you have to leave your attitude in the past."

Great, now he was lecturing me.

"Regardless of what you think of your stepmother, you're going to have to learn to get along with her," Cameron said. "She's my guard, which means wherever I go, she goes. She may not become the queen, but she is my wife. I won't have you insulting her again."

"And why can't she become queen?" I demanded, already knowing the answer. I just wanted to hear him say it out loud.

"Drea was born into her role as my guard," Cameron explained. "As such, she is magically bound to her birth station. She can't climb ranks or become a princess as your wife can, regardless of our marriage license, because her magical duty supersedes any other contract."

"There's your problem!" I shouted. "You just admitted it. She's your guard first. Can't you see this marriage is wrong?"

Cameron shot out of his chair and slammed a fist down on the table. "That's enough! You don't know the first thing about what Drea and I have together. You've been married to Ava-Marie for barely a year. Don't act like you're an expert on marriage. I've been married to Drea for nearly twenty years, and I certainly know more about being in a committed relationship than you and your wife!"

That pissed me off more than anything else he'd said. Ava and I had managed to keep our marriage intact despite everything that had been thrown at us. It didn't matter how long my dad and Drea had been together. It didn't change that he was wrong and I was right.

"Don't you dare bring my wife into this!" I yelled as I jumped to my feet. My chair fell over, and my whole body shook. Magic rattled around inside of me, and I had the sudden urge to burst out of my skin and breathe fire out of my mouth. The familiar feeling of supernatural strength surged through me, and I knew I must be siphoning powers from someone nearby. "You don't want me insulting your marriage? Don't treat mine like it's invalid because you've been married longer! Ava and I have been through hell together, something I bet you and Drea can't say while lounging around in your fancy-ass dining room and sleeping on your silk sheets, being waited on hand and foot every hour of the day."

Cameron's breath wavered, like he was trying hard to hold back an insult. He spoke slowly and deliberately. "Don't make any assumptions about what I've been through."

"Oh, I think I've assumed enough," I growled.

Screw this prince duty shit. I was supposed to be in charge here, which meant I did whatever the hell I wanted. I turned from my father and stormed out of the room. It was better than throwing a punch at his head.

I was too furious to process my surroundings. All I knew was I had to get away from my father. I hurried down the hall and heard footsteps coming my way. I thought it was Eddie, until I heard the sound of my grandfather's voice.

"Charlie, slow down," Emperor Cassiel insisted. "There's no need to get angry."

I stopped in my tracks. "You heard all that?"

"Everyone in this wing heard it," my grandfather said, though his tone was hard to read. I noticed then that there were other footsteps and voices passing through the hall. We weren't alone.

Magic rippled up and down my form. I rubbed my arms to feel scales appearing along my skin. I didn't know what the fuck was happening to me. I began clawing at the scales like I could rip them off my arms.

Several people gasped. They'd all stopped to stare.

"You need to calm yourself," Cassiel instructed, sounding concerned. "You're siphoning magic from a dragon shifter in the kitchens."

My throat began to burn with the heat of fire rising up inside of it. I'd siphoned supernatural strength and speed from others before, but never anything as powerful as their shifter abilities. I wasn't even touching the dragon shifter. Hell, we weren't even in the same room. It really freaked me out.

Cassiel grabbed my shoulders firmly and shook me. "Charlie, you must get your anger under control, or it will control you. If you shift inside the palace, you could bring this whole hall down upon us."

"What the hell do you want me to do?" I demanded. "Take deep breaths and confess my feelings? Not gonna work, gramps."

"It'd be a pretty damn good start," he stated sternly. He wasn't being mean— it was more like… he cared.

"So I'm just supposed to walk out of there acting like everything is fine?" I asked. "My father married his guard. How could you allow this? Why didn't you stop him?"

I got even angrier, and I felt my grandfather's hands grow smaller on my shoulders as my legs lengthened.

Oh, shit. I was shifting.

People shouted, and footsteps retreated away from us.

"Eddie, get these people out of here!" Cassiel shouted.

I felt a powerful wave of magic yank my power away from me. I collapsed to the floor, suddenly feeling very weak. I hit the marble hard. The burning in my throat subsided, and I realized the scales on my arms were gone.

The room spun around me, and it took me a moment to find my bearings. I shakily pushed myself upright. "What just happened?"

"You were about to shift into a dragon that is far too big to fit inside this area of the palace," Cassiel said. "You would've killed half a dozen people. I siphoned the magic inside of you for my own, before you could hurt anyone."

"I didn't know you could do that," I admitted as he helped me to my feet.

"There's a reason I'm the Emperor," he reminded me.

My grandfather wasn't a demigod, but he was certainly a talented Elf.

I furrowed my brow. "You didn't shift, though. How can you control it and I can't?"

"Because I don't allow my emotions to control me," he said. "I was hoping to mentor you in Elf magic, beginning this afternoon. It appears we should start immediately. Come with me, Charlie."

My grandfather led me away from the dining room and through a twist of hallways. Footsteps followed us, and I realized it was his guards, though they kept a distance behind us to give us our privacy. We stepped outside, and his guards remained stationed near the doors.

The air was warm, and a light breeze touched my face. I heard the sound of a trickling fountain nearby, and my Earth magic tingled. The scent of lavender filled my nose, and something soft brushed against my skin as I walked by it. I reached my hand out to feel velvety flower petals all around us. He'd taken me to one of the palace gardens.

My grandfather stopped at the edge of the fountain. "Sit," he instructed.

I remained firmly planted in place. "I'm not doing anything until you answer my question. How could you let my father marry his guard?"

"I did not," Cassiel said. "Your father never consulted me, and frankly, he didn't need to. I did not approve of the relationship at first, but over time, I've come to accept it. Drea loves your father deeply, and he loves her. It is not my place to get in the middle of that."

"Even though it's wrong?" I demanded.

"Who are we to say it's wrong?" Cassiel asked. "The world isn't black and white. There are gray areas that we must learn to navigate, especially if you're going to be leading the Elves."

"Oh, believe me," I said. "I'm more than familiar with gray areas."

"And yet you have much to learn," Cassiel stated. "Now, sit."

This time, I did as I was told and sat on the edge of the fountain.

Cassiel sat beside me. "As you know, the Elves have long been involved in criminal activity to ensure our survival. We've been known to cheat and steal, though not without purpose. We engage in these activities as a means to better our society, and to right wrongs. People think that as criminals, we are driven by our rage, but that cannot be further from the truth. The reason we're so good at what we do is because we understand our anger, and we know how to utilize it to our advantage. As prince, you're going to be heading all kinds of questionable operations. You cannot lead effectively if you let your anger get the best of you."

"I don't get it," I said. "Are we the good guys, or the bad guys?"

"Who says there are good guys and bad guys?" Cassiel questioned. "Perhaps there are just people who are all doing their best. The difference is, who's better at what they do?"

I smirked. Here I was, thinking my grandfather was going to lecture me on shoving my emotions aside, but as it turned out, he really got me. I was liking him more and more.

"The reason our lineage has continued on after every war and genocide is not because our family is somehow virtuous and good," Cassiel said. "It's because we know how to utilize situations to our advantage. We may not have the numbers the other supernaturals have, but we know how to work with what we've got. And we've got a hell of a lot of trauma and anger. Anger is a tool, and just like every Elven Emperor who came before you, you must learn how to master it. And if you do, you can restore our people to a good standing in the supernatural world, and our community can thrive."

I liked the sound of that. "How do I utilize it?"

"You must first understand it," Cassiel said. "It's like your illusion magic. Allow me to demonstrate. Since you can create solid illusions, why don't we try… a gun?"

I wasn't surprised that a gun was the first thing to come to my grandfather's mind. He was, after all, the leader of the greatest crime lords in supernatural history.

I was getting better at illusions, and it didn't take much for me to form a gun in my mind. I imagined the feeling in my hand— the shape of the grip and the cool of the metal. A solid gun took shape.

"Now, aim it at me and shoot," my grandfather instructed.

"I'm not going to shoot you," I insisted.

"Go ahead," he encouraged. "Aim it right at me and pull the trigger."

"Are you insane? No."

"Aren't you mad?" Cassiel said. "Don't you want to take your anger out on someone? Don't you want to punish me for allowing your father to marry his guard? After all, why didn't I step in and stop it? How could I let your father move on from your mother, and stop looking for you?—?"

Bang!

I aimed the gun at his leg and pulled the trigger. A loud noise sounded through the garden, but something wasn't quite right. I'd shot guns before, but this one had no recoil. It felt more like shooting a water gun than a real gun.

Cassiel laughed. "Very good, Charlie! I didn't expect the sound. It was very realistic."

I frowned. "Well, clearly I missed my target."

"Of course you did," Cassiel said. "That's because there was no bullet— you merely created a lump of metal and a nice sound effect."

I furrowed my brow and began running my fingers over the gun. I'd created an old-style revolver, and it felt real. I opened the chamber to find it was full of bullets, and I emptied them into my hand. I thought they'd be mere casings, but they were all heavy and hadn't been shot.

"In order to create an illusion and make it function properly, you must first understand the thing that you're making," my grandfather said. "Some illusions will be easy, while others require a deeper understanding. The bullets, for example, very likely could be shot, but you neglected other parts of the gun. You have the frame of the gun and the trigger, but where's the hammer? Without it, the bullets couldn't fire."

"Then why'd it sound like it?" I asked.

"Because you believed it would," he explained. "The sound was an illusion itself, spurred by your expectation. But when I told you to make a gun, did you think about what kind of gun you were going to make, and how it would be designed?"

"No," I admitted. "It didn't matter to me whether it was a revolver or a pistol. I didn't really think about it."

"That's why we must be intentional," Cassiel said. "If you understand the tool you're working with, you can utilize it most effectively. The same is true of our anger. Initially, anger makes us react, sometimes irrationally— just as your first instinct was to make the gun go off. You went for the quick result you'd come to expect, but underneath it, you forgot to utilize the real function of the gun. Anger can drive us to action, but if we react too quickly, all we get is a bang and no real solution."

"So how do I utilize it properly?" I asked.

"The first step is patience," Cassiel answered. "Our family does not simply react. We use our anger to devise strategy. I cannot cover strategy in a single lesson, but as you train with me, you will come to understand. Today, let's focus on shifting our mindset. You must get comfortable with the idea that anger does not require immediate action. Your rage is better utilized for long-term strategy. Furthermore, damage is not the only course of action. You know as well as I that you can channel your emotions into your magic to create things out of nothing, so why not transmute that anger into something that can help everyone, instead of hurting them?"

"I think I understand," I mused. "Instead of being bitter about everything I've been through, I can use that anger to enact policies that will ensure none of our people ever live the way I did."

"Precisely," Cassiel said. "I wanted our lesson today to cover mirrors and portals, as portals will be incredibly valuable to you. Perhaps we can use that to demonstrate some of these concepts. Follow me."

I stood and followed my grandfather across the garden. He led me into a wide hall that was open to the gardens. There was a roof above us, but I could still feel the breeze on my skin.

"This is the Royal Wall of Mirrors, one of our main portal hubs," Cassiel explained. "Although we try to limit our portal use as much as possible so we aren't discovered, this is where many of our agents portal in and out of Ilamanthe."

I reached out to feel the wall, and my hand traveled over a cold, flat surface. I felt an ornate frame that stretched taller and wider than I was. As I continued feeling the wall, I found more and more of these frames, all evenly spaced. There had to be a dozen of them.

"They're mirrors," I realized. "They're magical, like the Mirror of Ingress in Forevermore, but smaller."

"Yes, but you misunderstand," Cassiel said. "Elves do not have to use magic mirrors to create their portals. Any clear reflective surface will do."

I was excited to learn about portal magic. I'd never done it before. "How does it work?"

"Think of portals like a fold in the fabric of space," Cassiel explained. "The fae are able to connect any two points, but Elves are more limited in this power. We can connect any two mirrors to create a portal— or any reflective surface, such as a body of water that is still enough to be clearly reflected. But you must be careful, as this kind of portal magic can come with consequences."

"What kind of consequences?" I asked.

"There's a space between each entrance and exit to a portal— a separate realm, if you will," Cassiel said. "For a brief moment, you will pass through this realm before exiting the portal on the other side. This realm— the Mirror Realm, as we refer to it— exists outside of space and time. If your connection is not secure, you may find yourself entering a portal with no exit. When you are in the Mirror Realm, you are stuck between time and space, which means you can't even age to death. You simply go on existing for eternity, with nothing but your thoughts to exist alongside you."

"It sounds worse than death," I remarked.

"I would imagine so," Cassiel stated solemnly. "Because of this, we only use portals when absolutely necessary, as working with the Mirror Realm can be very risky. Once you get stuck, there's no escaping."

"So why do it at all?" I asked.

"Because when fighting a war, sometimes, the benefits outweigh the risk," Cassiel replied.

"What else is there to know about mirrors?" I ran my hand over another flat surface. "None of these mirror portals are activated, so I assume it's something that can be turned on and off?"

"Yes," Cassiel said. "An Elf must activate their portal, and then it stays open for just a few moments as the Elf passes through. You can take others with you, but an Elf must lead them through. You couldn't create a mirror portal, then walk away and expect it to remain active."

"How big does the mirror have to be?" I asked. "These mirrors are all large enough to walk through, but Eddie portaled us to Ilamanthe with a mirror he had in his pocket."

"We can use pocket mirrors, but they are a little trickier," Cassiel said. "One must use it to project the portal, reflecting the portal from the mirror itself onto the landscape. There must always be a reflective surface on the other end to portal through. You will soon learn that technique. Today, I want you to work on portaling through one of these mirrors to another on the other end of the hall. Do you think you can do that?"

I laughed nervously. "I can't make any promises. In theory, this all sounds great, but I don't know the first thing about how to actually achieve it. What if I get stuck like you mentioned?"

"I didn't warn you about the Mirror Realm to scare you," Cassiel said. "You are an exceptionally strong Elf. Traveling through mirrors should not be difficult for you. I simply wish to pass my knowledge on to you. Think of mirror portals like your battle magic. It's just another tool, and if you misuse it, it can do considerable damage. But if you use it responsibly, it can give you an advantage over your enemies."

I stepped up to the mirror on the end and pressed my hand to the glass surface. "So, how do I do it?"

"As with illusions, it simply takes imagination," Cassiel explained. "Picture this mirror connecting with another. Imagine the glass melting beneath your fingers, allowing you passage."

I shrugged. "Sounds easy enough."

I did as he instructed and pictured my hand melding with the mirror and coming out the other side through a mirror at the other end of the hall.

Nothing happened.

I tried again. Still, the glass beneath my palm remained solid.

I stepped back to think it through. I could feel my grandfather's curious gaze on me, but I ignored it. He wanted me to be strategic. I could try.

He also said I had to understand the tools I was working with. All right. I could do that, too.

He didn't say anything as I walked to the other end of the hall and felt the mirrors along the way. I stopped at the one on the end— my target. I was going to portal from the mirror on the other end of the hall to this one, but I had to understand where I was going first.

After feeling around for a while and getting an idea of what I was aiming for, I returned to the first mirror. I splayed my palm over it and imagined stepping through the mirror, and pictured myself coming out of the other across the hall.

Still, nothing happened.

"It's not working," I complained. Anger bubbled up inside of me again. I still wasn't totally over what had happened earlier, and my frustration only grew.

"Keep trying," Cassiel explained.

I drew a deep breath and tried again. This time, I pictured the entire hall bending to my will, imagining the mirrors connecting through space and becoming one. That was essentially how this magic worked, wasn't it?

The mirror remained solid, and I got even more frustrated. My grandpa didn't say anything as I tried to work it out, but I knew he was waiting for something to happen. I couldn't let him down. I had to prove to him I could do this. If I couldn't create a simple mirror portal, I certainly couldn't sit on the throne once he and my father stepped down.

"You've got this, Charlie," Cassiel encouraged. "All it takes is understanding and a bit of reality manipulation."

Something occurred to me, and it made my anger flare. "Then maybe that's the problem," I said, smacking my palm on the solid glass. "You say that like it's so simple, but maybe I can't manipulate reality the way that you can, because I don't experience it the same. You can look down the hall and see all these mirrors lined up, but I can only experience one at a time. I don't know how to combine these mirrors into one point in space at the same time, because I can't experience them all at once! I don't have any sight!"

I never used my disability as an excuse, but it was the only thing that made sense right now. Cassiel said this should be simple, and I was the greatest Elf to ever live, so why couldn't I do it like everyone else?

Cassiel spoke calmly. "You're reacting to your anger. Feel your rage in your body, but instead of releasing it right away, turn it into strategy."

"I don't know what that means," I insisted, whirling toward him. My foot hit a rock, and it went skidding a few feet away. "You're telling me what to do without giving me the steps to get there. I've got one mirror on this end of the room and another over there, but the steps between them aren't making any sense."

Magic swelled inside of me, and though it felt familiar, it was different from my own. I realized I was accidentally siphoning my grandfather's magic, like I had with the dragon shifter.

Cassiel placed a hand on my shoulder, as if that would calm me down. Come to think of it, it was helping. I could feel him tugging on his magic, drawing it away from me.

"You already have the tools, Charlie," Cassiel said. "Patience. Imagination. Creativity. You already know how to bend reality to your will— you've done it many times before. Bend this anger to your will as well. You've got to be strategic, and you can't do that by copying my strategies. You must make your own. You said yourself you experience the world differently than me, so what strategy is going to work for you?"

I rolled my shoulders, even though all I wanted to do was smash this mirror instead of portal through it. But my grandfather was right. Whatever I was doing wasn't working, so I had to change it.

Instead of reacting immediately, I turned inward. My grandfather was preaching patience and strategy, so how could I use those to my advantage? I'd been strategic all my life, conning people to get to where I needed to go. I just had to do the same here.

But I couldn't con a mirror. I had to con myself.

I stood in front of the row of mirrors and focused on the feeling of sunlight reflecting off their surfaces and onto my face. We were shaded by the overhang above us, but there was enough sunlight coming through the gardens that I could still feel it. Or, at the very least, I imagined it. It didn't matter if the sunlight was real or not, because whether I imagined it or not, it was real to me. I sensed all the mirrors at once, and I suddenly understood something I didn't before.

Of all the tools I had at my disposal, the ones inside of me were the strongest, and the easiest to manipulate. I thought creating this portal would prove something to my grandfather, but maybe that was the wrong way of thinking about things. If I had something to prove to him, then I was trying to prove something to myself, too, which meant I didn't actually think I could do this.

Anger led to solutions, or so my grandfather thought. Well, there was only one solution I could think of right now.

I leaned down to grab the rock I'd kicked earlier, and I tossed it in my hand.

The solution wasn't to prove what I was capable of. It was to know that I was already capable, no evidence needed. Kallie had been trying to drill that into my head since she first taught me about illusions. Portals were a manipulation of reality, just like illusions were. So I came to the conclusion that there was no reason to create the mirror portal in the first place, because the portal already existed.

I drew my hand back and threw the rock straight toward the glass. If it were any other mirror, it should have shattered, but the sound of breaking glass never came. Instead, I heard the rock clatter to the ground yards away from me, all the way on the other end of the Royal Wall of Mirrors.

I didn't have to celebrate it, because I wasn't surprised. I'd already made the decision that it would work, and I knew reality would warp to my command. That didn't mean I didn't feel damn good about it, though.

Just to enjoy my work, I stepped forward and walked straight into the mirror. It was solid only moments ago, but now, the glass melded around me like a viscous liquid. For a beat, I felt myself floating somewhere else entirely, then I stepped out onto solid ground.

Clapping came from far away on my left. My grandfather had been standing to my right a moment ago, and now, he was all the way on the other side of the Royal Wall of Mirrors.

"Excellent job, Charlie," Cassiel praised.

I turned back to the mirror and touched it, but the portal had already closed. The glass was solid again.

Cassiel approached me. "I wasn't sure you would master it so quickly, but you've done well."

"Thank you," I said.

I should've felt a surge of pride, but I just felt normal, like I knew all along how simple it was and I just had to remind myself of it.

"I wonder how far I can take this," I mused. "You said Elves could only portal through reflective surfaces, but what if there aren't any around? I've got to be able to get my people out of a bad situation in a pinch if it comes to that. I'm not your typical Elf, so what if I can make my own mirror?"

I concentrated, and the handle of a small mirror appeared in my hand, like what Eddie had used to portal us to Ilamanthe. I ran my fingers over the smooth surface of the mirror. Around the edge were intricate designs that reminded me of the Elvish carvings in my room. I could feel the mirror reflecting the heat of the sun. The mirror was completely solid, and I'd done a good job.

I turned the mirror down the hall to project a portal like Eddie had. I decided it was already done, but nothing happened. My magic seemed to be warring inside of me.

"It's a good theory, Charlie, but I'm afraid the mirror you created is not reflective— it's merely made of glass," Cassiel revealed calmly. "It will not work to make a portal."

I ran my fingers over the mirror again. The glass was smooth, and it felt like a mirror in my hands. "I don't get it. My illusion magic isn't like anyone else's. It's tied to my demigod powers. When I create something, it becomes reality and never goes away. This should be as real as the mirrors on the wall."

"As I said before, you must understand the tool you are using, in order to utilize it properly," Cassiel said.

I understood what he was saying immediately. "I see. I'm unable to replicate a mirror's reflection, because I experience it differently. It's like with the gun— I made the frame, the bullets, and the sound, but I didn't have all the other pieces in place. I understand how mirrors work, but I don't experience them the same way other people do. It's reflecting the sun's heat, but not an image, because my illusion magic is limited by my own understanding."

It was the same way I couldn't create nutritious food out of nothing, because I never trusted that the food would last.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Cassiel encouraged. "If this doesn't work for you, we will simply explore other tools that will. You don't need to be able to use your illusion magic in a pinch if you are clever enough, because you will always find another way out— whether you have access to a reflective surface or not. In these lessons, I will teach you how to pivot in situations in which you might need to explore alternatives. You're a clever man, Charlie, and I trust that you will learn how to use that to your advantage in any given situation, just as well as you use your magic."

His encouragement meant everything. No one ever thought I had what it took, because they didn't want to take the time to teach me. They saw a blind guy and wrote me off as a lost cause. But my grandpa wasn't like everyone else who had thrown me out like garbage before. He was going to do whatever it took to turn me into the next criminal mastermind in the family. I would become the next great Emperor who would lead the Elves long after he was gone.

"All right, I'm ready for the next step," I told him.

"Excellent, because it's time to meet your team," Cassiel said. "If you're going to follow in my footsteps and become a criminal boss, you're going to need a specialized team. I'm going to teach you how to develop a strategy. You'll need people to execute it for you."

An hour later, I was sitting in the palace throne room. The room was enormous, large enough to seat several hundred people. It was at the top of the palace, and open to the air through gigantic archways that displayed the rest of the city. I could feel with my Air magic that large banners hung from the cathedral ceiling, blowing lightly in the breeze. They probably depicted the symbol of my grandfather's house. At the head of the room was a raised dais, which overlooked the rest of the space. Dozens of stairs led up to the dais, where the thrones sat.

There were four thrones on top of the dais, which my grandfather told me were made of gold. The largest throne was in the middle, and was where Cassiel sat. At his right hand was a throne identical to his, but smaller in stature, which was the place for my father.

On the left were two other thrones in black wood, one that I currently sat in. They were for Ava and me, and signified our place in the monarchy. Underneath my fingers, I could tell that the thrones were carved with intricate designs. I was certain Ava would love them.

My grandfather ignored his own throne and stood beside me as we waited. His guards, as always, had followed us here, but they remained still as statues. I quickly learned that my grandfather never went anywhere without several members of the Emperor's Guard close behind. The doors to the throne room opened, and several pairs of footsteps shuffled inside.

"Sire," Eddie said. "Your entourage, as requested."

"These Elves are highly skilled in various specialties," my grandfather explained. "Each Emperor has access to his own team called the Elvish Associates, whose job is to carry out missions for the royal family. This team has been carefully curated for your purposes, Charlie, and you may direct them in any way you choose."

I was feeling pretty cozy in the throne, but I stood to greet each one of them in turn.

"This is Elyx," Eddie introduced as I shook the first man's hand. "He's a highly trained marksman, in both magical specialties and practical weapons. If you want a sniper, Elyx is your guy."

"Nice to meet you," I told him.

"The very same, your highness," Elyx said.

"The twins are Asa and Ares," Eddie continued.

I shook their hands in turn. Their hands felt similar, both rough and muscular. They were both much taller than me, and their hands were practically twice the size of mine.

"They're the muscle of the team, and both have trained in torture techniques," Eddie explained. "If you ever need to intimidate a witness, these guys have you covered."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," I said.

"The pleasure is all ours," Asa replied in a deep voice.

"And this is Gavyn," Eddie introduced.

Gavyn… why did that name sound so familiar?

"It's nice to see you again, my prince," Gavyn said.

"Wait… you escaped the Institute after Forevermore was seized," I realized. Gavyn was one of the young Elves that had been captured in Forevermore and thrown into the prison with us. He'd siphoned angel wings from a guard and flew over the fence. It was a really big deal, because he was the first inmate to escape. "The Warden said you'd died."

Gavyn gave a smug laugh. "The Warden is a liar, but you already knew that."

I smirked. "It's nice to see you made it."

"Gavyn's more than an escape artist," Eddie said. "He's our communications expert. If you need a negotiator, a messenger, a PR guy… he's your man. He's also very skilled at blending in if you ever need to go undercover."

I nodded. "Sounds great."

"And finally, meet Max," Eddie said.

I reached out to shake his hand, but I was surprised to feel that he was smaller than the others, and his hands were smooth. He wore all types of rings, and bracelets jingled on his wrists.

"Max specializes in tech," Eddie said. "If you ever need to get past human technology or you need to hack into a high security system, just ask Max."

"I certainly will," I replied. "It's good to have a guy like you on the team."

Max gave a light laugh, but it came out higher than I expected. That's when I realized Max was a woman. She didn't correct me. Instead, she said, "I'm happy to be included."

"Sorry," I said quickly.

"Look, if you see me as one of the guys, I'm happy to be one of the guys," she teased.

I decided I already liked Max. She wasn't going to treat me like some stuck-up prince she had to bow down to, and I liked it that way. We were a team, and even though I was calling the shots, I wanted my team to work together as efficiently as possible. I figured I could really get along with these people.

"This is for you, Charlie." Max handed me a slim, rectangular item that fit nicely in my hand. "We have phones for you and all of your friends. They're completely warded and untraceable, magically or otherwise. Your phone is already set up with assistance technology to help you navigate the apps. I'll teach you how to use it."

"Thanks, Max." I slid the phone in my pocket before turning to the others. There were six of them total, including Eddie, and I needed to utilize their skills the best I could. "It's my job, and the job of the other demigods, to begin our search for the vampire key. We're still looking for a solid lead. What I need from all of you is intel on the vampires. Learn as much as you can about the Midnighters. I want to know how their society operates, and who their most notable leaders are. Report back to me on what you find."

Ivy had a lot of intel on the vampires already, but I need to give these guys something to do in the meantime. With Max's hacking skills, I was hoping we could learn some things Ivy didn't know.

"Eddie, you're heading the research team," I added.

Eddie gasped, but he tried to keep his excitement contained. Barely. "I'm the boss?!" he exclaimed.

"Yep," I said. "You're all free to go."

Eddie started barking orders at them right away, and I internally laughed at his enthusiasm. He seemed so happy to be useful, instead of waiting around for my instructions.

Before I left the room, my grandfather stopped me. "Charlie," he said lowly. "There's one thing you must understand as a leader."

He piqued my curiosity, and I listened closely as everyone else left the room.

"These people are devoted to you, but they are not your friends— not in the sense that you've become accustomed to," Cassiel warned. "Your Associates will lay down their lives for you, and if I know anything about my grandson, I know you would do the same for them. But you must remain focused on the long-term goal. Do not let yourself become a sacrifice for a single person. You are the Elven prince, and as a prince, you hold your people together. If you sacrifice yourself, you sacrifice us all."

His words chilled me to the bone. My grandfather's message was clear. My Associates were people I had to trust with my life, but I couldn't get too close. One day, I would be put in a position that I didn't want to be in… and I'd be forced to make a decision that could crush me.

What my grandfather didn't realize was that I'd been in that position time and time again, and if there was a mark of a true villain, it was that even though I'd already been there, I'd go dark again… and I knew exactly what decisions I had to make.

They weren't the right ones by any sane person's standards.

And somehow, I was completely okay with that.

I'd already grown too close to Eddie— he was my friend, but I had allowed that relationship to go too far. When the Warden had sent Eddie to the camps, I'd tried to save him. That action had gotten Ava hurt, as well as put me and the rest of my friends in danger. I couldn't make the same mistake again. I wouldn't allow myself to see my team as anything more than people who worked for me… expendable people, who I was willing to sacrifice for the cause.

"I understand," I told my grandfather coldly. Then I turned on my heel and left the throne room.

Eddie was waiting for me out in the hall. He fell into step beside me, though I wasn't quite sure where we were going.

"What's next on the agenda?" I asked.

"Well, you had a mentorship session scheduled with your grandfather this afternoon, but as I understand it, you've already completed your training for the day," Eddie said. "If I may ask, what did you cover?"

"Mirror portals," I told him.

"Oh, fun!" Eddie exclaimed. "It took me years to learn mirror portals. I was thrilled once I figured it out."

"It really took you that long?" I asked. "I already traveled through my first mirror."

I guess my grandfather made it sound easier than it was.

"You forget that when you and I met, I still couldn't siphon magic from other supernaturals," Eddie reminded me. "My powers have grown considerably in just a year."

"Yeah, I suppose," I said. It was easy to forget with his chipper attitude how much Eddie had been through. Trauma like that could really push a person to grow up quickly.

I stopped in the middle of the hall. "Hey, Eddie…"

He halted beside me, and I said, "When I told you to blow me earlier, it was just something I said to piss off my dad. You know I wouldn't make you do anything like that, right?"

Eddie instantly sounded confused. "Why not? It is a service like any other, such as arranging your schedule, or fetching your things would be."

"I don't think Alistair would see it that way," I pointed out.

"Whysoever not? I am merely serving my prince. There is no romance involved. It is simply my job to please you, in any way. Though he is not an Elf, certainly Alistair would understand I must serve you," Eddie said blankly.

He really didn't get it. Elvish culture had brainwashed him to be loyal to a fault.

I sighed. "Look, Eddie. You're not like the rest of my guards, okay? We're friends… probably closer friends than we should be. And because of that, I'm going to give you an order that overpowers all other orders for the rest of your time of service, understand?"

"Anything, sire. What is it you ask of me?" Eddie questioned.

"If I give you an order, and you don't want to do it, you don't have to follow it," I said firmly. "I want you to have free will, and this is the only way I can see getting around the magical contract that binds you to me. If I ask you to do something, and it goes against what you truly want, then you can refuse."

"I will follow any request my master demands. I can't imagine refusing you for anything," Eddie said in astonishment.

"Maybe you'll never have to. But at least this way, I know you're following my orders because you want to, not because you're required to by magic."

"If this is what you wish, then I will agree," Eddie said. "But it is a promise I will never have to keep, because I will never disobey you."

"We'll see. But keep in mind I really don't want to do anything sexual with anyone who's not my wife," I said as we continued walking down the hall.

Then I scowled. "I don't want to be like my dad."

"You are too hard on him," Eddie insisted. "I have known Drea for many years. She is a part of my family, as all guards who serve the Elvish monarchy are related, distantly or otherwise. I do believe her and your father are truly in love. I don't think he forced her into anything without her consent."

"Well, that's good to know." I still wasn't certain he hadn't given up on me, though. It would take some convincing to make me think my father actually cared about what had happened to me.

"Seeing as you've already figured out mirror portals, that brings me to an important feature in your room that we should discuss," Eddie said. "Allow me to show you."

Eddie led me back to my room. Ava and Oberi weren't there, and the room was quiet when we arrived.

"It's in here," Eddie said, leading me into the bedroom. He guided me to the wall across from the foot of the bed, and I reached out to feel a tall mirror attached to the wall. "This may appear as an ordinary mirror, but it is enchanted."

I furrowed my brow. "My grandfather said mirrors didn't have to be magical to pass through them. An Elf creates that magic themselves."

"This one is particularly special, because it's warded to keep anyone but you from accessing it," Eddie explained. "That way, enemies can't use it to pass into your quarters. There is one other mirror like it— a sister mirror, if you will. That mirror resides right behind this wall, past six feet of blast-proof and magic-repellent material."

"What, like some kind of bomb shelter?" I wondered. "Six feet seems almost… excessive."

"You are the prince," Eddie stated bluntly. "It's standard in all palaces to have some sort of safe room for the royal family. If we are under attack, you can pass through this mirror into the safe room, where enemies can't find you. Would you like to go inside?"

"Sure." I stepped up to the mirror and splayed my palm over the glass. I imagined the gap between the wall collapsing, connecting the two mirrors into one point in space. The solid surface seemed to melt, and my hand sank through the glass. I stepped forward, and Eddie followed behind me.

My magic swirled around the room as I walked inside. It wasn't very big, but it was spacious enough that it wouldn't freak me out to spend long hours in here if necessary. I couldn't make sense of anything other than the walls, though. There didn't seem to be anything in here.

"Eddie, it's empty," I remarked.

"Well, of course," Eddie said. "The builders didn't know when you would arrive. The room was sealed off when it was built, and we needed your magic to access it after that. Now that you're here, we can start stocking it with supplies. There's a closet for non-perishable food items, as well as a bathroom in case you're here for a long time. You have full access to electricity, and the room is equipped with a state-of-the art magical ventilation system that has been rigorously tested for security vulnerabilities— there aren't any. However, in the case of debris, there are oxygen tanks in the closet. There are no exits, apart from the enchanted mirror."

"What happens if the mirror breaks during an attack?" I asked.

"It's highly unlikely, due to other security protocols. However, if it truly came down to it, we'd be able to use machinery to get you out— it would just take some time."

"If you can get inside, that means so can our enemies," I pointed out.

"They'd have to know this place existed," Eddie replied. He smacked the wall and said, "This baby's completely enchanted so that even if someone's looking for signs of life, they won't find it. No amount of infrared cameras, tracking spells, or things like that can penetrate these walls, and they're completely soundproof. You've got complete privacy in here."

Soundproof. I liked the sound of that. An idea began to form in my mind.

"Just let me know how we can make this room the most comfortable for you, and I'll get anything you request right away," Eddie said.

I already knew exactly what I wanted. "Eddie, I'm going to give you a long list of things I need, but you've got to get them with no questions asked, all right?"

"My lips are sealed," Eddie promised.

Good, because I didn't want anyone to know what I had planned for this room. This safe room was built for me and my wife.

And I was going to make it our sanctuary.