FIVE

Astaroth

THE DIGITAL NUMBERS ON the clock slowly changed with each passing minute of the meeting. Members of the Royal Court arrived on the monitor screen projected onto the wall. Father stood off to the side, his hands folded behind his back, the same condescending look in his scarlet eyes. Under the harsh glow of the florescent lights, Father’s skin contained a moonlight glow with an aged face.

I sat in a wheelchair with a violet blanket draped over my legs as Anton took his place behind me, one hand on the sabre’s hilt and the other at his side, looking straight ahead.

“Lord Ghoul, I understand your concern about the auction,” Father said. “I too am ashamed of my son. His weakness brings the question of his ability to take the throne.”

I flinched. For my whole life, I had been a failure in Father’s eyes. The kingdom saw it too. I couldn’t bring myself to act on the harshness of war, sending innocent victims of war to their graves.

Father glided across the floor in graceful movements. He stopped next to me, eyes narrowing in my direction. With a scowl, he turned back to the projection. “Yesterday, Prince Astaroth came very close to being assassinated. The call was made to notify the military within the capital.”

“Assassination?” Duke Tempest scoffed. His walnut-shaped eyes, the hue of limes, narrowed as he sat back in his chair, folding his arms in front of him.

“Unfortunately, it seems so.” Father’s voice mocked me with disdain. “The assassin appeared to be a former maspet - a siren disguised as a dragonthorn. If Prince Astaroth’s bodyguard had not acted in time, the throne would be in peril.”

I cleared my throat. “I barely caught sight of them. But yes, their disguise dropped as soon as my bodyguard struck them with thunder. Blue scales rippled across their body.”

Murmurs filled the air until Father held up his hand. He turned to me.

“And did you take your brother’s maspet after he bought him? That mangy dog.”

Biting my lip, I looked at my hands. I barely remembered claiming him as mine. Dante didn’t argue either. After I came to, he still didn’t argue with me. Was letting Father know his way of punishing me? Yet, that didn’t sound like Dante. We sometimes argued and took each other’s things, but Dante had never shown that he despised me enough to throw me under Father’s boots.

“That wolf goes back into Dante’s control. He’ll stay in his Zoo while you keep your pathetic maspets in yours,” Father commanded. He cleared his throat and took out his glass phone, scrolling through something. “In other things, I am sure your bodyguard relayed the news? Lady Morgana is your betrothed, and by the 28th of Ewi, you will be married to her.”

At the mention of marrying Lady Morgana, my ears buzzed like a thousand hornets were going off. I stared at Father, my heart hammering against my ribs. I knew this day would eventually come. Father would make me get married and have children to protect the bloodline, while he continued to rule. The assassination attempt was probably a setup by him to warrant my fear and gain approval from the Royal Court.

A large metal door at the back of the room creaked open. A young woman in a satin lavender off-the-shoulder gown caressing the curves of her body meekly walked in with a guard behind her. My heart slammed to a stop in my chest as I noticed the familiar blond curls atop the guard’s head with peridot green eyes not even meeting mine, though one was half-closed with dark purple and black marks around it.

The woman slowly descended a set of stairs leading to the platform where I sat with Father. She put on a smile that strained her pink-stained lips that paled her paper-white skin.

“Your Majesty. Your Highness,” she greeted with a curtsey.

Father smiled warmly. “Lady Morgana, how lovely of you to meet with us.”

“The honor is all mine,” she responded, her dark vanda orchid eyes looking at me.

Under her gaze, I felt my heart seize. She was calculated and poised to collect her winnings - the throne.

Father held out his hand, taking her gloved hand and leading her over to me. My guard stepped to the side and looked at her and then me.

“Lady Morgana, this is Crown Prince Astaroth, your betrothed,” Father introduced.

“It is an honor to meet you, my fiancé,” she said.

A smile twitched at the corner of my lips. “Likewise, Lady Morgana. I’m afraid you had to meet me at an unfortunate time.”

“It is no worry, your Highness. After such an incident, I am surprised you even agreed to meet with me.” Her smile strained as she shook my hand.

The smile tugged harder at my lips. Of course, Father would set me up like this. He always liked watching me fail miserably. But I would have the last laugh this time.

“I’m just happy that I was able to wake up. The injury left me quite weak. I’m so sorry that you had to come out here on such short notice. I wish-”

“Don’t stress yourself, Your Highness,” Lady Morgana said. She released my hand. “Why don’t you get some rest? We can talk more at dinner tonight.”

Briefly nodding to her, I looked at Father, who gave me a curt nod to go. I let my gaze sweep over the guard. His eyes still refused to look at me.

Anton grasped the handles of the wheelchair and wheeled me toward a ramp. Behind us, I could hear Lady Morgana and Father talking to the Dukes as if I were never there. A sigh left me. Even though I was the Crown Prince, so many people wished I never existed. I was the problem they wanted gone, and the assassination attempt almost worked.

I took one last look at the guard, wanting to say something, but the words were stuck in my throat. Nobody could know who he was.

Anton stopped pushing the chair and opened the door before pushing the wheelchair again, and we left the room in silence.