Bound and Broken

- 6 -

Aelon’s P.O.V.

Sir Vren stood as my father entered the room, bowing deeply out of respect. Whether it was sincere or not, I couldn’t tell, but I still found myself sneering at his back. My posture straightened as Father drew further into the room, bellowing a deep laugh that shook him in a way I hadn’t seen since the war first started.

The pages both scrambled around my father, who was moving quickly towards his appointed seat at the head of the table. The large map was glanced down at, and I could see him studying the positioning of our marked ships with concern, but he was quick to brush the thought away. Seeing that had me honestly a bit relieved. Today, I didn’t have the patience to sit through a strategic argument between Sir Vren and my Father. 

As was customary, I remained standing until my Father sat at the head of the table and then moved to sit at his right hand once he signaled.

“Son.” My Father made eye contact with me and smirked before turning his attention to the captain of the guard seated before us. “Sir Vren,” he said firmly, hoisting his great frame into the raised seat at the head of the long table. My father addressed us both in kind as the only two summoned here to meet with him. 

As he motioned for us to sit, I felt the thread of unease start to wind tighter in my gut. “I have some information come to light that surely matt turn the tides of this damned war in our favor.” One of the pages beside him looked down at the map as he spoke, uncomfortable with something yet not bold enough to say. My eyes narrowed on the boy before his attention shot back up to the King. 

“Your Majesty,” Vren said once seated. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and looked concerned for a moment. “May I speak freely?” the old Knight asked. At that, my brow furrowed. By all accounts, when someone began with that, they were either about to eat their own words or nearly get beheaded doing so. To my shock, my Father raised his hand to give Vren his permission. This acknowledgment seemed to instill a boldness in Sir Vren, who at once took a hardened expression. “This truly is unorthodox. Should we not have the remaining generals here with us if you truly do have an advantage for us?”

That was, I had to admit, an excellent question. What had Father only summoned the two of us here to discuss? I could hear my father rumble in thought beside me, and looked to him questioningly, silently approving of Sir Vren’s question. Something about this felt off on a deeper level than I could comprehend, and it threatened to strangle my brain with thoughts and doubts. 

“You and I both know that Karsan keeps mages in his employ,” my Father replied, venom dripping over the class of fighter that he so reviled. Magic, and the practitioners thereof, were outlawed in our lands. “In these five years since the great mage purge, Karsan has used any ounce of magic that he can against us.”

Sir Vren hummed in contemplation. “I recall,” he said somberly. “I was on the first of the raids as a General.” He spoke with such pride in his actions. It was an admirable venture too, he and his soldiers had rid our land of those who would have usurped my Father’s throne. 

“Right you are,” my father replied with a laugh. “And now, we have our on hold over the Phantom King.” My stomach lurched at that. A turn in the course of the war could be monumental for our country. The both of us hung on his words with anxious excitement, leaning in close as his eyes lit up with devilish glee. “Your lovely Queen made a fine purchase in the markets two days ago.” My Father took a deep breath, resting his folded hands on the table.

The anticipation was nearly killing me, and the tingle of electricity danced on the back of my neck in response to my rise in emotion. I raised a hand to clap over it, feigning an itch or an insect bite of some kind. Thankfully, I didn’t appear to have drawn more attention to myself. “The girl?” I asked him, eagerness edging itself into my tone despite my best efforts. 

Father’s eyes met mine and I could see the smile of appreciation showing beneath his beard. “More than just a girl, Son.” I watched as he readjusted himself in the chair, his eyes darkening with a darker intent that I was all too aware of. “The Queen has managed to purchase us the very daughter of King Karsan.”

The air nearly left my lungs. It would seem that Vren had the same mentality, too, because he nearly leapt up from his seat in surprise. “Your Majesty,” the Knight nearly shouted. “The Phantom King’s only child? Is it really?”

“The very same,” replied my Father. “A raiding party caught up to one of Karsan’s caravans just two weeks ago, and she was one of their spoils.” The King’s laugh deepened and he settled back into the chair. “And I’ve every intention of using her against the bastard.”

“Father,” I spoke up. “Isn’t she reported to be one of the most powerful mages in the southern realms?” Perhaps I was too eager to learn more of her just through rumors. It was only that the thought of her teaching me to conceal and control my budding magic seemed very much a viable opportunity. 

A nagging feeling within me kept me believing that this was a direct relation to my fate as future King. But beyond that, I knew the unsettling feeling in my stomach would lead to another undesirable outburst of mine f I didn’t curtail it soon. The faint tinge of electricity started to arc and bubble on my skin, and I felt my nervousness compounding into a rage at my own inability to maintain control. 

Deep breaths allowed me to center, but from the corner of my eye, I saw that same page looking at me curiously, a frightened look of understanding blooming on his young face. One sharp glare from me made his eyes dart back to the map laid out before us, and I could feel my fear building yet again. If he had any inclination as to what had been happening to me, I was as good as dead. 

“She is,” came my Father’s steady reply. “But our own scholars have crafted the proper sealing sygils into her collar.”

“Collar, your Majesty?” Vren spoke up before I could. “So she is-”

“Of course,” came the answer to the unfinished question of the girl’s new area of employment.

The old Knight’s cheeks reddened with understanding and he gave my father a curt nod. He was privileged enough to have access to the spoils of the court treats just as much as we were. It was a boon of his station. But the eagerness with which he seemed to start salivating over this as of yet unseen woman was enough to raise a thread of aggression in me, though I could not bother to answer why.

“Which leads me to my orders for you, Sir Vren.” My Father had cut off my train of thought and brought my attention back to the situation at hand. “I want you to dispatch scouts to the south to try and locate his main forces based on where she was taken from.” 

“A tactical move as ever, Sire,” Vren said with a bow of his head. “When shall I have my men ready for you?”

“As quickly as you are able,” the King replied. “I want to strike as quickly as possible before he has a chance to stray too far from his current path.” He gestured towards the pages, who began furiously scratching their quills on the parchment before them, likely drafting the official orders for him. “And you, Son,” my Father turned to me and I sat straighter in my chair. 

“Yes, Father?” I questioned, curious as to what he might have me do in such a situation.

His smile warmed for me, and I felt no sense of urgency from him whatsoever. “Your Mother has a task for you, she believes that you may be able to draw information out of this witch.”

“Sir?” I asked, nearly stammering over the single word. “I beg your pardon?”

Sir Vren guffawed from the other end of the table, hiding his face in his palm. “You’re leaving that to him?” He asked incredulously. “He’s barely a man, how can he get anything out of a woman.”

“I am twenty-five,” I replied with a snap. “I beg you not speak to me in that tone so brashly, Sir Vren.” The subtle incline of my chin held my gaze sharply down my nose towards him, and he knew that any reply would simply be seen as insubordination from here on out. His flustered expression left me feeling a deep sense of haughty superiority, and I could feel the approval rolling off of my father in his laughter. 

“My boy, I have every confidence in you,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Now, you are excused. I have tactics to discuss with old Ironhide here.”

My eyes met the old Knight’s once more and held in a firm state of contention and distrust before I broke to stand and bow before the King. “I shall see you at dinner then, Father,” I said to him politely, leaving him alone with Sir Vren and the pages as the nattering drone of military tactics began even before I had left the table. 

A deep breath escaped me as I exited into the wide courtyard adjacent to the hall. A stiff breeze had blown through and brought with it the fresh scent of wildflowers from the apiarist’s fields beyond the wall. With it came the desire for a large tankard of mead, and I knew just where to come by that. 

My hand rushed back through my hair, slicking back the flyaways that had come by my abrupt movements as I took long confident strides towards the great hall. My attention was elsewhere as I walked, my mind racing with the possibilities of what having a mage so near could do. And in that moment of contemplation, I overheard the dark laughter of a man coming from the long hallway leading down to the servant’s quarters. 

The echo of it was punctuated by a female gasp and the sound of something clattering to the floor. And while I would otherwise not interfere with the dalliances of the castle staff, I was in a terse mood now and was not above ruining somebody else’s day.

What I saw there nearly enraged me. It was a castle guard, still in uniform, leering over a smaller woman that I was unfamiliar with. Her striking auburn hair reminded me of the embers of a hearth fire, warm yet deadly. And from the angle I was viewing her, she was quite shapely. I could understand why the guard had taken a liking to her. I was certainly taken myself. But what shocked me, even more, was the speed and ferocity with which the woman reared back and punched the offending guard in the jaw. 

I was about to reprimand her until I caught sight of the flash of metal around her neck, and recognized the band almost immediately. She was bearing the collar of a pleasure slave. My expression hardened into one of darkened disgust at this man trying to take advantage of what was rightfully my family’s property. The guard’s expression switched to one of malice and rage when he rounded on her again and raised his hand to strike her. 

“You there,” I barked, stalking over towards him with my shoulders held broad and tall. When he saw my face, I could have sworn that all color drained from his features. The young i***t scrambled away from the woman, who I saw was readjusting the neck of her blouse as I approached, and I leveled a glare at him. “How dare you lay hands on a pleasure slave,” I hissed to him. “Shall I inform Sir Vren?” The very mention of his commander’s name made him pale and gape like a fish. So, I persisted. “Now are you going to make me ask again, or are you going to run along to the far corners of the cellar and go f**k yourself like a good boy.”

He huffed and guffawed for a moment before I cleared my throat once more. That seemed to send him running, and I was quick to laugh as he scrambled away. Once the guard was out of view, I turned my attention to the clearly flustered and enraged young woman that had been so cornered by misfortune. Her skin was tanned from travel, and her sharp eyes glittered like gemstones in a blazing fire. There was a faint scar on her face that I could barely make out, but I did recognize the carvings on the collar she wore. 

Those were the markings I’d seen in my pilfered books today. My lips curled into a grin, and I prostrated myself before her in a display of faux chivalry. “My dear,” I cooed to her. “I do hope that you have suffered no great loss at that knave’s hand.”

She appeared to be judging me harshly over something, unsure of how she should address me. But something seemed to click in her eyes and her expression lost some of its fire. Her eyes dulled and her face fell to look at the floor. Ah, she’d been instructed by Mother. Good, good.

“Tell me your name, pet,” I said, tucking my forefinger under her chin and tilting her gaze up to meet mine. “I do like to know the names of the pretty things in my castle.”

Her cheeks reddened as she drew in a deep breath before letting it huff out through her nose. “Myla,” she replied quietly. “Your Highness.” This was my charge, my target. Her name seemed to fit her, I found, and I was instantly drawn to her soft and near ethereal beauty. 

“Myla,” I repeated, leaning in close so that my voice could drop low enough only for her to hear me. I caught the whiff of honeyed soap, and knew that she would very easily become one of my new favorites should this continue. “When we are alone, you may refer to me as Aelon or Sir.” I let my brow quirk up as I spoke, curious of her reaction. “I have no need of your services at the moment,” I continued. “But be aware that I may call upon you to become better acquainted in the future.” 

This seemed to shake her resolve, and she only allowed herself the softest “Yes Sir,” in response. The soft tone of her ‘Sir’ sent a thrill to my loins and made my very thoughts darken with desire. No, no. I couldn’t tempt that just yet. I had to build a rapport with her and allow things to come to a head more naturally. 

My thumb hooked on the ring that hung from her collar and tugged gently. “I apologize that you are forced to wear this at all times,” I admitted, taking the chance to look closer at the symbols engraved into the metal. “Perhaps I can put in a good word to His Majesty and have it removed some time.” I let her go and stepped back, watching as her eyes widened at the thought and she hung on my suggestion with real attention. Her plump lips parted as though she wanted to speak, but I held up a hand to stop her. “No,” I said firmly. “I have duties to attend to today. But play your card right,” I let the unspoken promise linger in the air. If I never said it, I could never be held accountable. “Now go, back to the sleeping quarters without delay. Ari will ensure your dinner for this evening.”

Myla, for all of her composed grace, said nothing as she bowed obediently and started off down the hall. I watched as she left, excited at the prospect of learning more about her, and hungry for a taste of the power that she might provide.