Page 73 of The Midnight King
I enter to find him in bed, right where I left him, except now he’s buried under a mountain of blankets. “How did you know it was me?”
“You always knock the same way. Did you bring me wine?”
“No. You had too much last night.”
“My head is splitting open. Did you at least bring something for healing? Or pain relief?”
“You have servants for that.” I drape myself on his bed.
As someone born to a Fae and a god-touched human, I have my own weaknesses. Torin’s human weakness is a propensity for ailments like hangovers and the occasional bout of sickness. It takes far more alcohol to produce a hangover for him than it would for a normal human, but the fact that he suffers from overconsumption at all is supremely irritating to him. He also heals more slowly and feels temperature changes more dramatically than most Fae.
“Pull the bell cord for me, would you, Kil?” he mumbles, his face half-sunk in the pillow.
I reach over and tug it. Moments later a blue orb floats into the room, and Torin speaks his request to it. The orb bobs once, then glides back out of the room, zooming off to find a servant to fulfill the order.
“I have a problem,” I mutter to Torin.
“Is it your voice? Because I’m finding that extremely annoying at the moment.”
“It’s a girl.”
Torin lifts his head slightly. “A girl?”
“The human girl I was called to help.”
“Go on, give me details.”
I deliver an abbreviated account of my interactions with the girl. “And then she got into the carriage, and I left.”
He’s sitting up now, staring at me as if I’ve gone mad. “Youleft?”
“What else should I have done?”
“You sent your emotionally wounded protégé off to a palace ball. Yourvirginprotégé. She’s there unprotected, vulnerable, a prime target for a lustful vagabond such as myself… what the fuck were you thinking, Kil? Why are you still here? Go to the palace, wear a glamour, and watch her. Protect her like you’re fucking supposed to.”
“Isn’t that too overbearing? Shouldn’t I—”
“Go, for the god-stars’ sake!” He brightens as a servant enters his chamber, carrying a tray. “Ah, thank the fates, here’s my wine and my breakfast.”
I leap up and snatch the goblet of wine off the servant’s tray. “It’s for your own good,” I tell Torin when he protests. “I need it more than you do.”
As I swallow the wine, I turn my thoughts toward the palace where my protégé is attending the royal ball. I’ve never been there, but I possess a unique mutation of my mother’s god-touched gift, the Wretched Sight. When paired with my ability to create portals, I can use the Wretched Sight to perceive my destination and its surrounding area in my mind. I can locate the palace, perceive it, even mentally skim through its hallways and rooms to decide on a good entry point.
Setting down the empty wine cup, I take one breath in Torin’s room and the next breath in a broom closet of the palace’s central wing.
I step into the hallway, and as luck would have it, there’s a maid passing by. She’s alone, no one else in sight, so I flip open one of my rings to reveal a tiny compartment full of glittering dust. I step in front of the maid and blow the dust in her face. Within a second, she’s sinking to the floor, fast asleep.
I arrange the maid’s unconscious form in the closet, with her head resting comfortably against a stack of folded cloths. Then I drag a rack of sheets forward to conceal her, so she won’t be seen or disturbed. She’ll sleep for several hours and awaken refreshed. Meanwhile, I can take on her physical appearance and keep an eye on my protégé.
Navigating the palace is easy enough thanks to my Wretched Sight, and soon I find myself in a wide hallway graced with exquisite paintings. My mother would love to see them.There’s an especially fine portrait of an older human with silver hair standing beside a younger male, presumably his son. Both are wearing crowns. Must be the King and the Prince.
As I pass by an open door, my Fae ears catch a strange noise—a gargling, choking sound, like someone being strangled.
Perhaps I should keep walking and not interfere in whatever lurid palace drama might be unfolding. But if there’s something dangerous going on in the palace, something that could threaten my protégé, shouldn’t I know about it?
As I debate my course of action, someone wheezes, “Help!”
Decision made, I hurry through the doors into the room beyond—a library, judging by all the books.