Wicked Saints (Something Dark and Holy #1) - Emily A. Duncan Page 0,79
had slipped from their grasp and was out in the world to wreak havoc?
“Do we truly have no way to find the cleric?”
Kacper’s dark gaze met Serefin’s pale eyes knowingly. “Is going back to the witch wise? Your father will suspect you’re up to something.”
Serefin waved to the blood smeared on the table behind him. His father already suspected. “I am up to something.”
There was a sharp knock at the door and Serefin and Kacper both jumped. Serefin hastily wrapped his still-bleeding hand with cloth while Kacper got the door. Ostyia blinked her single eye at the sight of both of them.
“Are you boys all right?”
“Not at all, but I suppose that doesn’t matter right now,” Serefin replied as Kacper moved to a chair.
She held out a hand and Serefin gave her the report. Her face grew withdrawn as she scanned the pages.
“I see,” was all she said. “Dinner is soon.”
Serefin nodded.
“I’m going to burn this,” Ostyia said, holding up the report. “This is bad, Serefin.”
“I’m well aware.”
“It’s not just you who is in danger either, it’s every blood mage here. Every noble, the entire Tranavian ruling class.”
“I’m just in the most danger,” he said, smiling thinly.
She nicked a finger against a hidden razor in her sleeve and the report went up in flames. Her solemn frown deepened at the effort of casting an elemental spell, but it faded as she brushed the ash from her hands.
“You have somewhere you need to be. We can figure out what to do about this later,” she said.
Kacper stood. Serefin wanted to tell him to stay behind, but he knew Ostyia—as a slavhka—would be required to attend the dinner as nobility and not as Serefin’s sometime body guard.
“You really look dreadful,” Serefin told him, stepping closer and attempting to rake Kacper’s hair back into the semblance of neatness. He tugged on his crumpled jacket, but nothing he did would straighten the wrinkles.
Kacper shot him a lopsided smile. “It’s not every day I get to deliver news that the king is trying to turn himself into a god, eh?”
Serefin grimaced. A god. Hearing it aloud made it feel all the more real and all the more terrifying. There was a reason Tranavia had broken from the hold of the gods. There was a reason they had rejected the rules and the customs, the constant oppression of having a being greater than you rule over you by their own idea of morality. What his father was doing wasn’t going to change anything; it was just going against the entire essence of being Tranavian.
If Serefin had to cut him down to restore the throne to what it should be, so be it. His father had lost his right to the throne by reaching for this kind of ideal. Reaching for more power was one thing—that was admirable—but this? This was too far. It would crumble Tranavia’s already delicate government.
But there was no time for panicking. Serefin had to pretend he was just a petulant prince home from the war and nothing more than that. He used to be so good at pretending.
* * *
The banquet hall was lit by crystal chandeliers that flickered golden light over the long table. Serefin found his place was beside Józefina, with ?aneta across from him. It was unusual, he was used to sitting at the high table, but apparently protocol had been shifted.
?aneta smiled warmly at him as he sat down. He felt Ostyia perk up next to him.
“Surely they should be announcing your arrival?” ?aneta asked.
He glanced to where his father’s seat remained empty at the other end of the table. No, the announcement would be for that arrival. Not for him, never him.
“Doubtful,” he said cheerfully, waving a servant over. “But I much prefer it this way.” He grinned at Józefina as he gestured for the servant to fill the glass in front of him. “What is this?” he questioned. “Please tell me it will help numb the drudgery of this evening.”
“Krój, Your Highness,” the servant replied.
Mead was good enough, he supposed. “I apologize, I’m certain present company will be sufficiently charming.”
?aneta rolled her eyes fondly. Józefina looked unsure but smiled.
It was going to be very hard to fake his way through this. He exchanged a look with Ostyia and she immediately began flirting with ?aneta, leaving him to focus on Józefina.
She was unhooking her white leather mask. The relief on her face was clear when she finally got it off.