“Aw!” 

A crash came from the other room.

My uncle pushed past me. “Arbela!”

I moved to the end of the corridor and found my father on the floor, holding his arm. Blood seeped between his fingers, and a black knife was sticking out of the wall.

Servants appeared from down a hallway and hurried to his side.

“What the hell are you doing?” Maniis grabbed his sister’s upper arms. “I may not view the man as king, but these fucking people do.”

My mother remained stone-faced. “I don’t recall moving.”

“Arbela.”

She lifted her chin. “Do you recall seeing me move, or are you simply assuming it was my fault?”

“Look what you did!” My father staggered to his feet. He checked his arms.

The wound seemed to be minor.

“You have taken this too far.” He approached my mother. “How dare you assault me. I’ve never expected much from my own wife, but I have never put my hands on you. You tried to kill me.”

“Tried.” She scoffed. “If I wanted to kill you, I would. It appears that I’m suffering from memory loss, though, because I still don’t recall moving.”

My father’s mouth fell open, and then he stopped. “What kind of trick are you two playing?”

“Maniis was standing down the hall with your worthless son.” She glared at my father. “But do tell me when you find out who threw it, so I can thank them. Better yet, maybe the gods have sent you a warning for uttering such blasphemy in front of me right after insulting the true king of Thaloria.”

My father breathed in sharply, and his eyes flicked to me.

“If it’s not me, it’s him,” she stated. “Disagree, and I will seek a divorce to prove my point.”

My father gritted his teeth before turning to Maniis. “Get out. You brought this chaos with you, and I want you gone.” He turned to leave with servants chasing after him.

Rubbing his face, Maniis retrieved the knife sticking out of the wall. It was shaped more like an arrowhead with a long handle. 

“This wasn’t you?” he asked.

My mother folded her arms. “Did I move?”

“No, you didn’t,” replied my uncle, “but who else was around?”

She shrugged. “I honestly thought you threw it and planned to critique your aim.”

“You can’t kill Arkin.”

“Not today,” she replied. “But he’s never been closer to death.”

Bowing my head, I peered out the window. At least I knew my father’s true feelings.

“Ricky.” My mother rubbed my arm. “Don’t listen to him. The man is obsessed with an idea that will never come true. A half-blood can’t sit on the throne. Thaloria was created as an eternal kingdom. That is what the gods intended for it.”

I shrugged. “I know. It wasn’t a surprise. I know he doesn’t think highly of me.”

My mother breathed out through her nose. “Give it to me.” She reached for the knife.

“No.” Maniis stepped back.

“Give it to me.” She yanked on his arm. “I will finish the job.”

“And that is why my answer remains no.”

“Let me cut out his tongue, at least.” She continued to struggle with her brother.

Maniis turned his body. “Honestly, when are you going to learn you can’t always get your way through violence? You’ll create a bigger problem.”

“I have sat quietly in Thaloria for over two decades. Two long decades,” she stated. “And that ends today. You do not insult my child because he’s not a mortal—a mortal, Maniis. The thought is vile. Arkin put a mortal above my son. It’s infuriating to even think about, and I will see to it he will never repeat it.”

He tucked the knife away. “I’m not giving it to you. Don’t you have five others hidden, who knows where?” He motioned to his sister's appearance.

“I didn’t think I’d need a weapon. Besides, I’d be too tempted to use them.” She reached for it.

Maniis twisted his body. “No.”

“Give it to me!”

Footsteps approached, and my head snapped to the side to see Prince Lenik watching.

He smiled at me. “This feels oddly familiar.”

I looked away and tried to hide my embarrassment.

“What do you want?” said my mother.

“Arbela.” Maniis moved in front of her. “Remember where we are at.”

“I will not bow to a mortal, not even if he is a prince.” She forced a smile and moved past him. “Handle it, Maniis. I’ve been told that I am neglecting our guests.”

My uncle sighed.

Lenik moved forward. “You take after your mother.”

I continued to ignore him.

“Arkin isn’t here if that is who you are looking for,” said Maniis. “He had a small accident but should return to the banquet shortly.”

Lenik shook his head. “My father would like to talk to you, Your Grace.”

“And what does he want with me?” breathed Maniis. “I didn’t come to talk. I had to retrieve something from my sister.” He glanced at me with a smirk. “I should actually be on my way.”

“Arkin may be the king of Thaloria, but my father knows the real king of the eternals is you. As you said, King Arkin’s power comes from Lumeria because he is married to your sister.”

Maniis thought for a moment before turning to me. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

I nodded. “You won’t go back on your word, right?”

He laughed. “That’s a question for your mother.” With a nod, he left with the prince. 

I stood there for a moment before tipping a side table back onto his legs. I examined the hole in the wall above it. My mother couldn’t have been the one to throw it. The angle didn’t make sense. I positioned myself where I thought my father might have been standing and tracked the trajectory. My gaze went to the other side of the room before rising to the ceiling. I flinched when something moved in a darkened corner. 

A vine rose from the ground, shifting a couple of tiles on the floor. The man used it to climb down. The vine reversed course, and Allseceen stomped the tiles into their original place.

“He’s quite loud, your father.” He walked closer. 

I moved against the wall. “My mother told me about you.”

“Oh, what exactly?” He put his hands in his pockets.

“Mostly that she’d kill you if she had the chance.”

Allseceen smiled. “Fisty doesn’t even begin to describe your mother. She’s quite unique, and I mean that as a compliment.”

“What do you want?”

“Did you come to an agreement? Maniis is here to take you back to Lumeria.”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, since the gods wish for me to go, my mother agreed.” I gripped the table.

“You’re kind of skittish.” He arched a brow. “I’m not here to hurt you. I would never hurt you. The gods would punish me more than your mother ever could. Besides, I like to see how your mark develops.”

“It’s sealed.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “It’s going to hurt like a motherfucking bitch when they unseal it.”

My chest tightened. 

Allseceen smiled. “Very skittish, actually. You’ll need to work on that. The gods have high hopes for you, Alric. Very high.”

“Can you talk to the gods?”

He nodded. “I am their messenger. That is my eternal fate in exchange for extra time added to my lifespan. Fae live longer than mortals, but we are not immortal.” His head fell to the side. “The gods didn’t kiss my people. We had to settle for giving them a respectable peck on the hand, and in exchange, we can wield some of the powers of creation.” He twirled his wrist, causing a green light to chase it.

“Better than the mortals, at least,” he said in a mocky tone. “They crawled on their hands and knees just to kiss the gods' feet.”

“I know the story,” I replied. “They were giving the strength to stand for being the ones to show true humility.”

“Hmm… it sounds like the version the mortals like to tell.” He scratched his neck. “It also comes with your entire race getting to die again and again, over and over, with no end in sight.”

I stood up straight. “What do you want? I’ve heard your message. I’m going to Lumeria, so there’s no other reason for you to be here.”

“I think there is.”

I flinched when he appeared beside me and grabbed my throat. I froze in place.

“Too skittish,” he whispered. “Do you know why some elves have this mark and others don’t?”

I shook my head. “If you go to the temple, you get one, right?”

“Not exactly. Not all elves can have one. The ancient eternals were all kissed on the forehead.” He stood in front of me. “Blessing their spirit with eternal life, but a god reached around.” His hand moved to the back of my neck. “And prick their fingernail right here on two of their creations—the light and the dark, the last to step forward.”

He released me, and I was able to breathe normally again. 

“That’s not the story I heard,” I breathed. 

“Because you were told the one written by mortals. So humble they rose from the ashes of the creation. A powerful force that spread through all the known realms. A force so great even the gods struggle to control them,” he laughed. “You have more humility in that scrawny body than all mortal nobility combined.” He looked me up and down.

I glared at him. “Maniis is going to teach me.”

“Good,” he said firmly. “You inherited the mark; you better start using it.” Allseceen pulled something from his belt. “Here.”

I stared at the knife. 

“You’re going to need it.” The fae grabbed my wrist and put the knife in my hand. “Mortals love close-quarters fighting. You learned to use this, and you can kill them before they can reach you.”

I nodded. “I don’t know how to—”

“Maniis does. He’ll teach you.” He smiled and turned to leave. “Though your mother has a far better aim. Maybe have her give you a lesson or two before you leave.” Allseceen rubbed the side of his jaw. 

“Good luck, Prince Alric. I’ll be checking in from time to time.” The fae stopped at the door. “But do me a favor, and don’t tell your mother I was here.”