Page 17 of Secrets of Avalon
I hesitate at the threshold—a knot tightening in my stomach. “Father,” I reply, my voice soft but firm. I refuse to let on how unstable I currently am.
He closes a book with deliberate slowness, the sound resonating in the quiet room. His eyes, usually so full of fire, now hold a flicker of something similar to sorrow.
“I heard about your incident at the Earth door,” he says, his voice measured and even. His fingers drum against the desk, a rhythmic tapping that seems to mirror my racing heart. His gaze is intense. He knows. He knows what happened earlier.
Of course he does. Why would I think my incident would remain unknown to my father–to the king of the Fae.
“It was a vision, nothing more.” I say, choosing my words carefully. I purposefully stand still, refusing to shift my stance beneath his scrutinizing gaze.
He studies me for a moment, his expression as unreadable as I hope mine is. “We cannot afford such distractions. They said you touched the Earth Realm door,” he continues. “They said you fell to the ground like it hurt you.”
“I am well, father, and I understand.” I speak with confidence I don’t possess at the moment, each word is like a stone in my mouth. “Yggdrasil was trying to show me something. There was a woman. I think she was on the other side of one of the Earth Realm doors. She was scared. Something terrible was happening around her. She was begging me to help her open the door.”
He shakes his head and releases a low sigh. “My son, Earth is banned. You cannot dream of what cannot be. The High Council would have your head and where would the Fae people be without their prince? Without their future king?”
I bow my head respectfully, gritting my teeth against telling him my concerns. I cannot show him weakness. “It is not that simple, father.”
“Yes it is.” His voice is harsher. “You must put this from your mind. The mystery woman. The vision. Everything. Your mother and I have arranged a strong marriage for you. Vencia Darkwood will make a good wife. She will help you be a good king. And it will give our family good standing with the High Council.”
I suck in an angry breath. That’s a lie. Vencia may look good on the outside, but she’s vapid and shallow. She won’t make a good wife or a good queen. “Father, you know how I feel about this match. We’ve talked about it before. It won’t work. I don’t want Vencia.”
“You haven’t brought your mother or I a suitable replacement. Therefore the alliance with the Darkwoods stands. They are a strong family. They have a member sitting on the High Council. You need to think about our family’s position, Hawke.” He sinks into the great leather chair behind his desk and runs his hands through his long silver hair. The beads in his braids clink together.
“Being king isn’t just about getting what you want, it’s about understanding every thread that weaves our people together. Every thread that connects all eight worlds,” he says, his voice quieter now. He’s trying to diffuse the situation. Trying to trigger the deep responsibility he knows I feel to our people and plight. It’s a low blow and strategic of him, but I refuse to let him win on this.
I take a step closer to the desk and put my hands down on the front edge. I lean toward him, holding his gaze. “Father, I know. That’s why I’m against the marriage. Becoming King…the responsibility and power of the position is enormous and important. Vencia will be a weakness, not an asset.”
My father shakes his head. “She will give our crown security. This is not a negotiation.”
My mouth twists into a sneer for a moment before I’m able to flatten it back out and respond respectfully without anger. “Everything is a negotiation, father. Tell her family no. I will not be marrying her. You and mother can bring someone else to the table or I will, but it won’t be Vencia Darkwood.”
I swallow hard, my thoughts racing. Becoming king, shouldering that responsibility while battling my own inner demons—it's daunting. I can't let my feral nature take over, can't let it control me. I have to be strong, for my people, for my kingdom, and for the woman in my vision—the one my very soul insists holds the key to my destiny.
I know she is, I just can’t argue that point with my father. He’ll never accept an unknown as a possibility. So I have to figure out how to make the woman from my vision a known quantity.
My father and I stare in silence at each other for a moment until the door swings open and my mother sweeps in like a fresh-jasmine-filled breeze.
“Oh, excellent. I’ve got you both. Hawke, have you spoken with the cooks at Camelot about the updated feast menu for the Ceremony?” she asks, her voice light but carrying an undertone of importance. She walks gracefully toward us, her eyes briefly connecting with my gaze, communicating a mixture of concern and affection.
She touches my arm and leans against my side. “I heard about the… incident,” she adds softly. “Are you well, my son? I wanted to be here when your father spoke with you. I see I’m probably too late.”
“I am well, mother,” I say, forcing a smile for her benefit.
“Then why do you two look like you want to draw swords and duel? We don’t have time for this. The Ceremony is in two days and the coronation in five. Everything must be perfect for the Changing of the Guard, we can’t let personal problems affect such a significant event. Our guests expect more from the Fae, not less. We have to over-deliver. What about the guest quarters?”
“Everything is moving along well. Destrien and I are on top of it.”
She smiles, seemingly satisfied with the response. “Good. Good. I know you likely have it well in hand, I just worry about these things. Having these two events so close together is stressful.
“The Ceremony and the Coronation will be excellent, Isolde. We will all make sure of it, my love.” My father’s voice is softer for my mother, reassuring.
“I hear you trying to dismiss me, Theon, but it won’t work. Every single servant and noble in the corridor heard you arguing about the Darkwoods.”
I wince, wishing I’d considered we likely had eavesdroppers. But I prefer not to lie, so if my stance against the marriage filters into the public, so be it. I’ll never pretend Vencia is a good match.
She turns to me and puts a gentle hand to my cheek. “My son, this is the best alliance we can make for you and for the good of all Fae.”
I take her hand from my face and gently press it between mine. “No, it is not. I can’t explain to you how I know, but I need you to trust me. Both of you. The marriage with Vencia is the worst thing that could happen. I just need time.”