Ryke

Fourteen years later…

 

“Please, Father,” my eldest son and heir to the crown begs.

“Soren, begging is beneath you.”

Soren scowls at me, his black crown heavy on his head. His black hair curls out from under the metal, reminding me of when he was still a baby suckling on his mother’s tit. Nothing about the way his icy blue eyes burn with fury is childish, though. My son is becoming a man.

“Tell me, son, do you wish to visit the Easta Waterways because you want to fight with the Bloodstones in the War of Wars or is it because you’re following a girl there?” I smirk when his frown deepens.

“I follow no one,” he stubbornly replies, but his gaze tracks her.

Aylin sits beside her father Danser—not her real father, but no one speaks of it—and her mother Valari in the grand dining room where all our most trusted men and women eat together. As though she senses the young prince’s stare, she lifts her brown eyes and flashes him the briefest of smiles, softening her usually hardened features.

Where Soren was raised to be a prince, fierce and strong to protect his people, Aylin was raised as a warrior. To find the wicked before they find us. We may have eventually won the Moral War after years of scouring the Hidden Lands, but the War of Wars continues. One day, the Easta and Westa kingdoms will also belong to the Bloodstones. Aylin’s recently become of age that Danser takes her with him on missions. Soon, she’ll be every bit as fierce as her father. People without gifts must rely on skill. She most certainly has skill for her age.

Soren flicks out his wrist, absently rolling a ball of blue fire around in the palm of his hand, his stare locked on her. Of my eight children, he is the only one to present signs that he has both gifts of fire and ice. Mazon thinks it happened in the womb when his mother needed access to his gift to protect herself. He believes in that moment, they traded gift for gift, but never really gave them back. My queen never lost her fire making abilities. She remains the most powerful person I’ve ever encountered.

And with two gifts, my son will need extra training to hone them both. For one day, when his parents are long gone, he will rule over the two remaining kingdoms—the Easta and the Westa—along with the ones already under the Bloodstone reign.

“Papa!”

I turn in time to catch Farren as she launches herself into my arms. She’s my little wanderer. Loves to run around and cause mischief. Her icy blond hair and amber eyes makes her a breathtaking sight. It’s easy to forgive her naughtiness when she grins at me.

“Little Farren,” I chide. “You shouldn’t be running off alone. Where are your siblings and your mother?”

“They’re slow, Papa.” She pouts.

Atarah rushes into the room, her amber eyes on fire with fury. My daughter, born right after Soren, despite looking just like me, is her mother made over. She’ll cut you with one cruel look, and if that doesn’t do the job, she’ll burn you where you stand. We lost many servants when she had tantrums as a toddler.

“My beautiful girl,” I greet when I catch her stare with mine.

She loses her frosty look long enough to give me a rare smile. “Good evening, Papa.” Soren and her usually call me Father, but sometimes she reminds me that she’ll always be my little girl when she slips up and calls me Papa.

The twin girls, Kenna and Nilsa, walk in hand in hand. Both with their icy white hair and pale blue eyes are miniature replicas of their mother. They’re quiet and sullen, two girls bound together by sharing a womb. Because of what happened with her sister, Elzira watches them for any signs of animosity. But love shines between those two. I trust they’ll be together until the end of this life, best of friends.

I kiss each of the twins and then they find their place at the table with their sisters and brother.

Thane and Caswell walk in next, just after the twins. Two brothers at eleven and ten years, thick as thieves. They remind me of me and my cousin growing up. I keep an extra eye on them so they don’t get into trouble like we did. They’re overly protective over the twins and the littles, but can’t hide their anger toward Soren. I’m not sure what’s happened between the three boys, but whatever it was isn’t something any of them discuss. Soren glares at them and they glare right back. I would guess if the boys were bigger, they’d try and take Soren.

“Boys,” I greet, smiling at them. “Yashka made your favorite tonight.”

They both grin back at me, losing their scowls before settling in next to the twins.

A hush falls over the dining room as everyone bows their heads in respect. My wife, Queen Bloodstone, walks in, my youngest daughter nursing at her tit. Elzira’s hair is hidden beneath a massive crown of diamondblades. Tonight, she wears a black dress glittering with diamonds. Beautiful. Perhaps we’ll send the little with Valari tonight and I’ll try and put yet another one in her belly.

Blazing blue eyes meet mine, flickering with warning.

No more children she’d said after Asterin nearly killed her during labor. But Asterin was a gift. Why should a king and queen deny themselves of more of these precious gifts?

Despite the fierce look on Elzira’s face, I can see the façade melting. After everyone has gone to sleep, she’ll let me part her thighs and spurt my seed deep inside her. She’ll give me another child. She’ll give me as many as her body will allow.

“Please, Papa,” Soren utters again, his voice soft.

I tear my stare from my beautiful wife to inspect my son. He wants this badly. It would be foolish to send the heir to the throne into the Otherlands—what we now call everything outside of the Hidden Lands. If he were to be killed, then what?

Atarah sits up and smiles at me.

A princess with a spine of fire.

Queens have proven to be just as powerful as kings.

I let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll agree on one condition, Sor.”

He sits up, a wide smile stretching across his lips. “Anything, Papa. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

He nods rapidly. He won’t like this. Not one bit at all.

“You may ride with Danser and the Bloodstones to the Easta Waterways,” I agree. “But you must take Thane and Caswell with you. It is your duty to protect your brothers above all else.”

The smile falls from my eldest son’s face. “Father,” he growls, his voice so deep for his age. “You can’t ask this of me.”

Reaching forward, I move one of his unruly curls from his brow. “A king makes sacrifices. If I must sacrifice my heir to the throne so that he may chase after a girl in the Otherlands, then you must sacrifice a bit of yourself, young prince. They are your brothers and whatever strife lies between the three of you will get worked out on your journey. Are we clear?”

His jaw clenches. “I won’t coddle them, Father.”

“I don’t expect you to. Besides, they’d hate it if you did.”

“Thane barely knows how to use a sword,” he complains. “Caswell probably still wets the bed.”

“I dare you to let them hear you say that,” I taunt. “Thane is excellent with a whip. And Caswell makes diamondblades sharper than your mother ever could.”

Soren’s blue eyes gleam wickedly. “But can they do both?”

“I can’t do both,” I rumble, leaning closer, “and I can assure you, boy, I could still take you down.”

Rather than being frightened, my brave prince grins. “Thank you, Papa. I won’t let you down.”

I pull him to me and kiss my little boy, who wishes desperately he were already a man, right smack on the forehead. He grumbles and pushes me away, his cheeks flaring with embarrassment, but he remains smiling.

When Aylin approaches my son, I turn to regard Elzira, who’s settled on my other side. Her eyes shimmer with amusement.

“Are you done terrorizing my children?” she asks, smirking.

“Never,” I growl. “Isn’t that right, Asterin?”

My infant daughter pulls away from her mother’s nipple to smile at me. I hold my finger up and she grips it with surprising strength. A hiss escapes me when her fist ignites with a blue flame.

“Ow,” I bite out, detangling my finger from my double-gifted daughter. “When did this happen?”

Elzira laughs. “Just now.”

I meet my wife’s eyes. “Best if we wait until Soren returns from the Easta Waterways before we tell him. He’s flying high on being the best gifted Bloodstone at the moment.”

“Arrogant boys,” Elzira coos. “When will they ever learn the queen always outranks the king?”

Asterin beams at me, reaching for my hand again.

I don’t think so, sadistic, fiery ice maker. Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead. Then, I kiss the full, pouty red lips of my queen.

“I was thinking,” I rumble, pinning her with a sweltering stare. “With the boys leaving on their journey soon, the castle will be awfully empty.”

“Insatiable, insufferable Volc,” Elzira playfully grumbles.

“Is your heart frozen, cruel one? Don’t you want to make me the happiest man in the world?”

Her gaze softens. “I suppose it’s only fair. You’ve made me the happiest woman.”

“Eat,” I growl as I steal a kiss. “You’ll need your energy for later.”

“I bow for no one,” she whispers. “No one tells me what to do.”

“Tonight, you’ll bow for me, Cold Queen. And then I’ll spend the rest of the night worshipping you between your thighs.”

One of the older children groans nearby, making us both laugh.

I sit up straight and let the wiggling baby girl hold my finger again, only wincing slightly when she lights me up with her blazing fist. Looking down the table, I admire all my beautiful children. Some with white hair and others with black. All beautiful and powerful and loved.

When I set off on my journey for the Hidden Lands years ago eager to fight in the Moral War, I expected to strengthen an empire and take a princess to make her my queen. I never dreamed I’d fall in love with a cruel, cold queen on the brink of death and give her eight perfect children. I never dared to hope I’d love not one person, but eight more, with every part of my being.

There’s room in my heart for many more.

And that’s my truth.