Bonded to the Fallen Shadow

3

Vad

M

y jaw tightened as I entered my father's private library. I already knew this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation. Ever since my mother’s death five hundred turns ago, this tension had become our norm. In his eyes, her death was my fault.

My father stood with his arms braced against the massive dark stone desk in the center of his private library. A window in the glass dome above us framed the almost-full moon like an unblinking eye. The air tasted faintly of magic—bitter, sharp, and old. A sickly-sweet tang that reminded me of what I'd witnessed in the northern cave, where the usually crimson water had turned a muddy pink for a long moment. A sure sign of my father's—and thus the kingdom's—weakening powers.

He needed to pass the crown to me as quickly as possible, which meant I had to select a queen. Something I did not want to do, and I’d been struggling to find an alternative.

My father’s stare was locked on a cup of crimson water sitting in the middle of his desk. A high fae guard had found yet another disruption in our magic and brought a sample here for us to observe and hopefully find answers, but it had resumed its normal color upon arrival. Still, my father’s once night-black hair seemed to become more silver each day, and even the patches on his leathery black wings were beginning to fade more, which confirmed we were in a precarious situation.

"We need to talk." I lifted my chin, my own folded wings tensing along my back. "This cannot continue. The more frequently the water turns, the more at risk we are of our weakening magic being exposed to the realm."

"I wondered if you would be bold enough to speak with me about the matter." A frustrated hiss escaped his lips. He struck his fist against the desk, causing the tainted water to ripple.

"We need to determine an effective way of handling this matter." I'd seen the changing water with my own eyes. If the wrong person noticed, our authority as a kingdom could be challenged, and we could be overthrown. In the worst case, if the king lost his powers, we might all lose ours as well.

My father had once been a powerful fae warrior, renowned for his cunning and skill with shadow blades and choking glyphs. Lately, he’d been slipping, but only I and Father’s personal guard knew the truth.

My father grumbled, dragging a hand through his coarse hair. Age had exacted a painful toll from him. His gait had weakened over the years, and his brow had grown heavier, the wiry silver hairs long and unruly. "You must do your duty and choose a bride. It does not matter whether you want to."

Love was a game for fools and poets. I was neither, and I resented every moment these damnable marriage selection ceremonies would require. Especially given the scope of the last disruption. It seemed to have been confined to one of the sacred spaces beneath the palace. I'd only chanced upon it while seeking restorative rest. But soon it would affect more and more of the kingdom. We were running out of time. Anyone who saw it would know, and then we would be even more vulnerable to attack.

Scoffing, I drew back. "I'm not speaking of my marriage." A sour taste filled my mouth. It was my duty, and I never shirked any sort of responsibility, but love had killed my mother, and I never wanted to be in a position where someone expected such a foolish emotion from me.

I set my jaw and chose my next words with care. "I’m speaking of the faltering that led to the disruption of the magic woven throughout our realm. It was strong enough that the water changed color yet again."

He waved a hand, his expression twisting to show his annoyance. "You don't need to waste your time on the source of my magic's disruption. It's obvious."

That statement cut through me like a cursed blade, and my mouth nearly fell open before I composed myself. Had he actually admitted that he was flagging, without even trying to save face? I lifted my hands, trying to process this shock.

If he were himself, he would never have acknowledged that. No reigning shadow king would acknowledge his own weaknesses.

"If that's what you came to speak with me about, then you’re more of a fool than I thought. There are other matters of far greater importance." He glared at me, bristling with unsteady rage. "The bridal candidates have been arriving all day. Shall I hazard a guess that you have not visited them even once?"

Restraining a sigh, I dropped my hands to my sides and stretched out my wings. The stone walls felt like they were closing in on me. "Why would I visit them? If we’re to trust Fate, let us trust Fate." Not that I trusted Fate exactly—she’d allowed my mother to die, and now she had decided to allow my father's decline. At this rate, he might not live until my coronation. "Fate has always been the one who chooses—"

"Fate is a scaffing b***h," he spat.

My eyebrows arched. Insulting Fate would make her angry. Even in my darkest moments, I wouldn't have spoken of her in that way.

His upper lip curled as he paced across the room, shuffling his feet over the thick crimson rug. "At least go and survey the candidates. You may find that you’re drawn to one more than another."

"All that matters to me is that my bride is strong. I'm not marrying for love." I crossed my arms.

His mouth pinched and deep furrows cut into his brow. "This isn’t a matter to be taken lightly."

If he wanted to be blunt, I'd happily return the favor. "Nor are the disruptions to your magic and strength. If you cannot survive—"

"This is about the rest of your life. While the council will assist in judging the candidates, you have the final say on your bride. Take this opportunity to consider the women. There are twenty-six candidates. And straighten your shoulders. I raised you better than that."

I straightened my stance. Fiery anger burned through me as my shadow magic coiled within. In the end, nothing would be good enough for him. Sometimes I wondered why I still bothered. "Fate and the council will choose the final one. Until then, I intend to be involved as little as possible and give my attention to situations that truly matter."

"Fate did not choose your mother. I did. And she was everything this kingdom needed, even though many disagreed with my choice." His voice rasped at the end, harshening with his breath. Moisture collected in the corners of his eyes, their brightness dimming as it often did when he started reminiscing.

I firmed my mouth. I did not want to hear anything about my mother. She was a good woman in many respects, but she’d been weak when it mattered most. She was the one who had taught me how dangerous love could be. How swiftly it could distract you from the simplicity of duty and tie you into knots that nothing could undo. "The—"

A soft rap sounded at the door. At my father's order, the door opened, and Elara, my only sibling, entered. She was slim, with delicate features that made her dark-blue eyes seem too large. She wore an elegant gown of dark gray, and her dark hair was braided. Her palm pressed flat against the door as she sought more strength from the shadows. "Forgive the intrusion, but I need a word with Vad."

My father waved her in without looking at her. "Take your time. My conversation is pointless with this one."

I restrained the urge to roll my eyes as I turned my focus to her. "What is it, Elara?"

She pressed her pink lips into a tight line as her attention darted between us. She took a few steps, then stopped at the golden fireplace right across from father. "All but the last bridal candidate are here. Her arrival should be imminent. The rest have gathered in the Ascension Hall. The council has suggested it would be wise for you to greet them." Her palm flattened against the wall now, her fingers tensing. Beneath her glamour, her lips took on the faintest shade of purple.

Feck. She was fading again. It hadn’t been that long since her last treatment either.

I strode closer, letting my shadow cross hers. As it did, I flicked my hand and channeled a tendril of the shadow source toward her. "Fine. I will prepare to greet them."

Her breathing deepened, and that tinge of purple faded as she caught the energy.

Father’s eyes narrowed. "Elara, continue to the Ascension Hall. Your brother will join you shortly.”

She bowed her head and left. No sooner had the door closed than Father seized my upper arm, his fingers digging into my sleeve. It barely registered as more than a pinch, his grip weaker than ever before. "Stop coddling her. All you do is put her at risk. If someone saw you strengthening her, they would know without doubt something is wrong with her, and that would make her more vulnerable.”

I glared at him. "They’ll also know it if her legs buckle when she is in the Ascension Hall. Her condition is worsening. She needs more support. We need better answers. And I did not do it publicly. There’s no one else here." No one with sense, at least.

Father simply shook his head and spun away. “Nothing can be done for her. If she’s strong, she will survive. If she isn’t…” The muscles in his jaw twitched, the emotions displayed on his face signifying a further lack of control. “You can’t save everyone, Vad. And you’re wasting time and energy on matters that, in the end, will result in nothing but heartache. Wasted attention. Wasted effort. Wasted power.”

“I have neglected nothing. All my duties have received the necessary attention, and your condition and Elara’s illness are matters of grave concern for this kingdom and for me. If our enemies—”

Another frustrated snarl escaped his withered lips.

There was nothing else to be gleaned from this discussion. He’d admitted more than I’d guessed he would, and the answer alarmed me all the more. We were running out of time, and he wanted me to focus on choosing a wife and maintaining appearances.

I marched out the door to find my younger sister still in the hall, examining the runes on a dark purple vase as if fascinated. She had one hand resting in the pooled shadows from the great beam, likely drawing strength from it.

Elara tilted her head toward me when I closed the door. “I can tell you’re looking forward to this more than ever.” She was stronger than Father gave her credit for. More cunning as well, but maintaining a fierce demeanor when one was in constant pain took a toll on even the strongest. Few understood her full potential. Though if matters did not improve soon, not even she would realize it.