Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Now for my secret captors.
Chapter 21
Two Pawns
The Quiet King
I reached the end of the camp, right as the first drops of rain fell onto my cape’s leather hood. Surely, it was a gentle introduction to what was to come.
As I took further steps, cool droplets kissed my cheek, leaving a trail of wetness that the wind quickly whisked away.
And now for my two pawns.
I stopped in front of the tent and stood before it. Large and pink, this one was more elaborate and set apart from the other ones. The scent of blooming roses drifted from the entrance. With that fragrance, any vampire king worth his power would know what lay inside.
I remained in front of the tent, not ready to go inside yet.
Two guards flanked the entrance and kept their heads faced forward.
Seraphine wants me to be good, but what would she think of my two pawns? Does she understand that it is not always easy to be a king.
In the sky, thunder boomed, and a flash of lightning tore through the dark sky, illuminating the surroundings in a dreamlike glow. The world came to life in that brief moment, only to be swallowed by darkness once again.
Dear Ambi. To have my eyes back. . .and witness the beauty of all your creations.
The stark contrast of light and dark was as stunning as it was terrifying.
Although the sun had been out. . .the storm was coming.
And still, I pondered.
Surely, a king could, and should, strive to be good during times of peace and prosperity. In such times, he could focus on his subjects’ wellbeing, establishing fair laws, promoting education, fostering culture, and ensuring that the realm thrived in harmony.
Hmmm.
Before long, the light drizzle intensified into a downpour. The taste of the rain trickled onto my lips, a freshness tinged with a slight bitterness. It was the flavor of the sky, raw and untamed.
I stared at the pink tent and let out a long sigh.
Go ahead.
I would have to help Seraphine understand that there were times when conflict and crises often required a shift in this demeanor. During challenging periods, a king needed to make tough decisions that—from an outside perspective—might appear ruthless or evil.
In this intricate dance of kingship, it was crucial to remember that no king could be all good or all evil.
Was he not a product of his circumstances? Weren’t his decisions shaped by the demands of his position and the trials of his time?
Nodding to myself, I knew that I must continue with at least one solution that had come to me when I was not healed.
I gritted my teeth.
Until Phinova was returned, I would face more trials, make hard decisions, and continue to tread the fine line between being just and ruthless.
I swallowed.
Honestly, the decision would be left to Ian, the Horned King, and his stolen queen.
It is their choice. Not mine.
I walked up to the pink tent, lifted the heavy canvas flap, and stepped into the dim space of the tent.
A peaceful rule will come, once my first queen is back with me.
Silence greeted me as I entered.
However, in the relative seclusion of the tent, the sound of the outside rain became an entirely different symphony. The large canvas overhead served as a vast drumskin for the downpour. Each drop was a percussive note, landing with a soft, rhythmic patter that was both soothing and monotonous.
I slowly continued forward.
The dimly lit tent seemed larger from the inside.
At the far end, bathed in the soft glow of a single lantern, stood a cage made of cold, black iron. The bars were thick and unyielding as they cast jagged shadows onto the ground.
There they go. Still caged. Still safely in my possession.
I continued forward.
You two will get Phinova to me immediately, and then perhaps Seraphine will get her request for no war.
Inside the cage and huddled together were two girls. They couldn’t have been more than ten and twelve. Their brown skin glowed in the dim lighting. Their matching braided ponytails of vibrant red hair marked them as sisters.
They spotted me heading toward the bars. Together, they edged back and shivered.
I stopped four feet from the cage’s door and studied them.
Good. They are definitely still alive.
Their wide eyes shimmered with fear and confusion. Tears and grime marred their delicate features. Despite their fright, a raw power pulsed around them. It was a telltale sign of their blood magic.
So tragic. Such potent power, and they have no idea.
Along with their flowery scent, the pungent stench of sweat and vomit lingered in the space.
I noticed the plates of untouched food by the caged door.
They must eat. I will tell the soldiers to force them.
I would have entered their minds myself, but I had not forced the blood bond with the girls, although I had planned on doing it before.