Scarred (Never After #2)(13)
“And you, my little lion, are free to roam.”
But I’m not free. I never have been—not really. Years later, and I’m still here in Gloria Terra. Glory of the earth.
Flicking the ash from my smoke, I raise the tips of my fingers to my scar, running them along the raised edge, something sour tightening my gut.
The moon is full, and it casts a glow on the darkened forest, the groans of wind the only sound other than the occasional howl from feral wolves, and the hoots from owls that frequent the observatory windows at night.
Pushing myself off the wall, I drop the burned paper and herb to the ground and crush it between my boot, before walking into the trees and away from the safety of the castle.
I scan the dilapidated room, taking in several dozen faces crammed together at the long tables and benches, all eyes focused on me. The air smells dank, as if the frequent rainstorms have weakened the foundation and sank its way through the interior, growing and rotting the wood from the inside out.
But The Elephant Bones Tavern isn’t a place known for its prosperity or its upstanding patrons.
It’s dangerous and exists amid the shadowed lands; a place they warn even the strongest soldiers to keep far away from. And until recently, it’s where I’ve spent most of my time, cultivating the watering hole as the home base for the rebels. Its owners are Belinda and her husband Earl, both of them faithful followers of my cause.
If you spend time within the inner circles of Saxum, however, you’ll hear the shadowed lands referred to by a different name.
The hyena battlegrounds. Where the rebels roam.
Although it’s said in jest by those with gold lining their pockets. The ones who have never had to suffer under the cruel hands of fate. People who allow ego to be their crutch, never taking the less fortunate seriously. Whispers of “rebels” mean nothing to them. And why would it? No one is stupid enough to go against the crown.
The Faasa family has reigned for centuries. We’re too strong. Too powerful. Too bold.
But with greed and power comes boastful ignorance and blind eyes to threats. Chinks in the armor that erodes until a chasm forms; big enough for someone to slip through and fracture the core from within.
Which isn’t a bad thing. I’d rather live in chaos, ruling over the rubble, than spend a second longer watching my brother sit on the throne.
He doesn’t deserve it.
“Sire,” a trembling voice breaks through the crowd, Belinda rushing through and throwing herself at my feet. Her bony hands snake out, her body bowing forward as her lips meet the top of my boot.
“You may rise.”
She moves to her knees, her dark eyes glimmering with unshed tears. I reach out to tip up her chin, and her palms wrap around my wrist. I swallow back the disgust at having her touch me, focusing on the fact that I gave her Reginald’s head, and she delivered, just the way I asked.
“You’ve pleased me,” I say.
“Anything for you, sire,” she whispers, staring up at me with clear adoration.
My hand moves from her face up to the top of her head, petting her hair and gazing out at the crowd.
“Let this be a lesson for all of you. While the roads ahead will be difficult and treacherous, they will also be paved with success. Stay prepared. There will be great sacrifice, and I will accept nothing less than absolute obedience. I know the gravity of the situation—of what I’m asking. But if you do for me, I swear.” I pause, moving my palm to rest over my heart, attempting to show sincerity through my movements and hoping it bleeds through my tone. “I will do for you.”
I wave my free hand toward the woman at my feet. “This beautiful soldier—this warrior—trusted in me.” I gaze down at her, my touch moving back to her jaw and stroking her pallid skin as my eyes meet hers. “Loyalty. The highest kind. The type that is rewarded.”
My focus goes back to the people. “Aren’t we tired of growing hungry while the noble gorge and feast?”
Angry murmurs whisper through the air, their grievances music to my ears.
“Aren’t we exhausted of being spit on and forgotten, as if we aren’t the ones keeping Gloria Terra afloat?” I slam my free hand into my chest. “Isn’t it time for us to rise up and rise against?”
Cheers erupt, fists banging on the worn tables.
“Down with the king!” someone yells.
A laugh escapes from my throat and I raise a palm in the air, quieting them, their attention rapt once again.
“Trust in me friends, and I promise… I’ll lead you home.”
Belinda cries, dropping into a bow so deep her arms splay in front of her and her nose skims the floor.
Everyone else in the crowd follows suit, lowering their bodies to the ground, their heads dipped in subservience.
Satisfaction sneaks through my veins, and a smirk tips the corner of my lips. My eyes meet Edward’s as he kneels in the back corner. I nod, pleased at the way he freed our messenger from the dungeons and brought her back.
This was important. A statement. One that shows everyone I keep my word and will keep them safe. This is but a small portion of the support I’ve garnered, but it’s enough for the message to spread.
It’s hardly the truth, but perception is reality, and not everything is a lie.
I’m the one who will storm the castle and burn it all to the ground; along with my brother, his queen, and anyone else who gets in my way.