The Deathsinger: Book 2

Ch. 8: Blending In

Morana

Seething, I stared at Tievel. Choose him? I didn't choose him? He gave me no reason to choose him, and I had been willing to throw the world over for him once. But before I could pry my lips apart, the tent flaps were pushed open again. Only this time, it was the king who entered.

Tievel straightened and bowed before his father. Jerkily, I forced my body into some form of subservience, though from the scowl on his face, it didn't meet the king's standards. A flutter of fear went through my chest, and I forced my knees to bend further.

"Father, I didn't expect a visit from you."

"I didn't expect to visit you," Brinley replied, circling me like a predator. "But stories of our little Deathsinger storming through the camp to your tent reached me."

Tievel's hair flickered between yellow and red. "I appreciate you checking on me."

"Of course," he replied, stopping and dragging his thumb and pointer finger down his pointed chin. His flat gray eyes flicked toward me. "If you are here to Sing for my son, please do it right this time so I can at least kill him to end his mad mutterings."

"Father!"

"Is that why you are here instead of practicing with Kuga?"

"N-no Your Highness," I sputtered, shaking out the wrinkles in my skirt and smoothing the wisps of frizzy hair away from my face.

"Ah, perhaps a little morning rendezvous. You two were once lovers?"

"We were not."

I felt Tievel's glare searing into my skin. Just because I knew what his touch on my body felt like did not make us lovers. That had been an act of manipulation. Not love.

"Then why—" The ground rumbled, and the lanterns hanging from the ceiling swung in violent circles as Brinley's voice rose. "Are you in his tent?"

Tell him. Tell him the truth.

It would be so easy. I could see there was no love lost between father and son, and whatever theory Astreia might have regarding the king and his soul, it didn't seem he was overly concerned about Tievel staying alive.

What did concern him was relighting Dycidium, and for that, he needed me. If I told him Tievel had conspired with the Puca to kill me last night, I was almost certain he would lash out at his son. That would be one less worry for me to carry.

I glanced at Tievel. His accusation rang in my mind. 'You didn't choose me.'

"I wanted to warn him."

"About?" Brinley's voice was a brittle string pulled tight. His patience wore thin.

"I-I brushed against a soldier and saw his death. It was a Brownie. Shot through with an arrow. I was concerned about an enemy ambush, but he explained that the soldier would be leaving with a group for a hunting trip at first light."

"You saw his death. I did not know you had this ability. Did you steal that power?"

"No," I answered, not liking how casually he threw out that question. As if it was no bother to him how I came about it. "Kuga doesn't know I have the ability."

Truthfully, I wasn't sure why I hadn't told her about the power. Maybe because I hadn't used it in so long. At some point, I'd gained enough control to stop it from happening randomly. Or maybe I assumed she would just know that I could do it. Then again, Remiel did tell me not all Deathsingers could See.

"Hmm." Brinley shrugged. "Perhaps we can think of a way to make it useful."

"Yes, Your Highness."

I cringed, hating how meek I sounded. If Brinley was the elder king, then who knew what power he truly possessed? I could be dead before I opened my mouth to Sing.