Feros peered around the dining

  table, gaze passing with a tinge of mirth between Mistra and myself.

  He seemed to be taking great delight in seeing us seated together.

  The creature, of which I am sure that he was, had kept his own

  company away from the rest of the castle when he had first come to be

  Mistra's tutor, but upon returning from the demon realm, he had begun

  to create a habit of turning up to meals and social gatherings. I was

  certain I have never actually seen him eat or drink anything, so his

  motive for making himself present and available was not clear.

  It would have all made me very

  suspicious if not for Mistra's insistence that Feros' fealties lay in

  the right places, though I could not deny that his presence still sat

  in the pit of my stomach as a wriggling pocket of unease. It had to

  be the way he moved like his skin was uncomfortable and stiff and his

  expressions were weirdly exaggerated like he had to remember each

  time to emote in an appropriate way.

  "What's your story?"

  the creature asked while smiling eerily at Tiffany.

  The girl's fork tumbled from

  her hand and clattered on the table as she let out a little gasp.

  Every word that the “gentleman” spoke seemed to frazzle the young

  girl's nerves.

  Though he hadn't been around

  for long, I was beginning to understand that there was something

  about Feros that made the girl almost blind to him. While he was

  quiet and still, her eyes glazed over him and focused on anything

  else in the room. It was as if he blended into the background or

  became invisible to her. When he did make his presence more

  noticeable, it jarred her system into a fight or flight response.

  Unfortunately for the poor girl, it seemed that he had started to

  take delight in the effect he had on her.

  "I-uh..." the girl

  took a deep breath in and made the effort to focus on where Feros was

  seated, "I'm not sure what you mean."

  "You are seated at the

  royal table and not with the other little girls," he said with

  the same unwavering smile, "that tells me that you are different

  or special in some way. Not that all little girls aren't special in

  some way, but I think you get the gist of what I'm getting at."

  She gave a nod, her eyes

  generally in the correct direction, but fluttering around the space

  where his face should be. I wondered if it was difficult or even

  painful for her to look directly at him, perhaps her refusal to

  notice his presence was more of a defense mechanism.

  "I am a princess,"

  she answered, "I belong at the royal table."

  "Oh, is that so?" he

  asked with a click of his tongue. "I don't know a princess

  Tiffany, where is your kingdom located?"

  I cast a surreptitious glance

  askance to Mistra to silently inquire if she had ever told her

  trainer the girl's name. Her answer was an amused smirk and a barely

  perceptible shake of her head.

  "I'm not exactly sure in

  relation to here." The princess' face screwed up into even more

  of a look of discomfort. "I don't think I actually know where we

  are at all, but I know my father said I was to unite our northern

  kingdom with the southern."

  Feros let out a long,

  trickling laugh that sent a shiver even up my spine.

  "Northern? Southern?

  Human kingdoms are always so horribly vague. Someone's north is

  another's south and frankly, everywhere I've been in this realm looks

  the same, what is your family name?"

  "Breakstone," she

  said barely above a whisper. The longer Feros focused on her, the

  paler and more gaunt her face became.

  "Breakstone?" he

  chuckled. "Is that what the nickname for Theophania is now:

  Tiffany? I must have been away for too long, how modern and fresh."

  The fiend leaned back in his

  chair and placed his hand on his chin in an almost comical expression

  of being deep in thought. I was certain he was doing it specifically

  because he had seen it before and thought he should, not that it came

  naturally to him.

  He continued, "If I

  remember correctly that would make your father Luca and mother...

  let's see... his first wife died in childbirth, the second was

  barren..."

  He fell silent and still,

  immediately Tiffany looked away with an unconscious sigh and her

  hands, which had been clenched tightly around her napkin relaxed. She

  blinked slowly a few times and focused her eyes back on her plate,

  making a face as if her meal suddenly looked disgusting.

  "Abigail," he said

  suddenly.

  Tiffany groaned and snapped

  her attention back to him, swallowing hard as her hands returned to

  wringing her napkin.

  "Yes, that's it. Luca and

  Abigail Breakstone." He nodded to himself, satisfied that he had

  finally remembered. "So they were sending you off to be married?

  But you are still just a child."

  Mari let out a short,

  snuffling laugh. "I have a feeling you will quite like the

  story."

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  A grin widened across his face

  to inhuman proportions, eliciting a soft squeak of fear from the

  princess.

  "She was engaged to my

  father," I offered as a shortened version.

  "How deliciously

  scandalous," he said with a low, salacious purr, "the man

  could be her great grandfather. Could you imagine that this girl

  sitting here could have been considered your mother?”

  “I have tried my level best

  not to think of that scenario,” I said with a sigh.

  Feros giggled madly at my

  reply, flitting his eyes between the princess and I. Every time his

  eyes landed on the girl her face twitched and she wrenched her napkin

  in a different direction.

  “That must have been a

  political deal of a lifetime, unless the king hated his darling

  daughter," Feros suggested coyly. He studied Tiffany's pale

  countenance a moment before chuckling to himself. "What could a

  child have done to be that reviled?" he mused. "No, there

  had to be some great pay off for that to have been agreed upon."

  "I have been looking into

  the deal," Mari said, "though being on the road it has been

  harder to coordinate my contacts. I haven't gotten much back yet

  other than it seems to have been a lengthy discussion before the deal

  was struck and there was a lot of movement to coordinate couriers for

  after the marriage. It looks as though the Breakstones were going to

  be sending massive amounts of something as well, though I don't think

  that makes much sense."

  "Weaponry," Feros

  said with absolute certainty, "that kingdom is probably the

  largest producer of swords and other iron goods in all of the human

  realms. If you needed to arm your forces in a hurry, that's exactly

  where I'd go first."

  Mari and I exchanged a worried

  look and my stomach flopped over. My late father's kingdom trying to

  arm itself quickly was the exact opposite of what I wanted to hear.

  "You're right that it

  doesn't make sense though," the creature continued, "it

  sounds like King Luca had to be poised to get an irresistible payoff

  to be willing to part with his own, much too young, darling daughter.

  I wonder what it could be."

  The uncertainty hung in the

  air, our plates abandoned. After a long, silent moment, the fiend

  suddenly stood and inclined his head to me in his usual gesture of

  asking for dismissal to wherever it was he disappeared to in the

  castle between making himself known. I replied with a short nod and

  he left, the atmosphere of the room lightening slightly with his

  absence. As soon as he was gone, Tiffany stood up suddenly face still

  looking ill.

  "I think I will go lay

  down," she said weakly.

  "Before you go,"

  Mari said, placing a hand gently on the girl's arm, "think hard

  for a moment, do you remember absolutely anything about what was said

  to you about your betrothal? Even any rumors you may have heard from

  the whispers of servants."

  The girl took no time to shake

  her head, pulling her arm away and hurrying out of the room. By the

  sway in her steps, it appeared that she was having trouble with

  staying on her feet. I had never seen her quite so affected by the

  man before, but then, I didn't think he had ever kept her focus for

  so long before.

  "Hrmph," Mari

  huffed, "she really needs to learn how to respect superiors."

  "I doubt she knows

  anything," I offered, "I think she was very much in the

  dark. Why would anyone tell her anything, she would have likely

  protested the marriage. She also seems to keep much in her own head,

  I doubt she paid much attention to any idle gossip."

  "I wish she would have,

  this idea of large amounts of weaponry being passed around is not a

  good omen," Mari grumbled. "I suppose the deal was likely

  struck before we made any real moves in our girl gathering scheme,

  but still, I don't like it. Why would your father have wanted armed?"

  "That I'm afraid I don't

  have an answer for," I said with a shrug. "There was not

  much my kingdom was at want for, no big major grumblings come to mind

  and my father was not one to keep his lips sealed about any problems

  he was having. If there is some kind of trouble, it must have

  developed after I left. Granted, that was quite a while ago now, I

  suppose it could be anything."

  "I think we're missing

  the biggest unknown here," Mistra interjected, "the

  Vivaldi's must have offered some sort of deal of a lifetime. Toria,

  what does your kingdom excel in?"

  "Crops, mostly," I

  answered.

  "Perhaps there was a

  severe famine or something then, one so terrible that the Breakstones

  had their hands tied in negotiations," Mistra suggested.

  "I think I would have

  heard about that," Mari countered with a wave of her hand. "I

  have been, admittedly, a bit behind on my espionage, but something

  the severe could not be overlooked. No, it is something else, it has

  to be."

  "Mari, this reminds me of

  something I have been meaning to broach subject with you about,"

  I said. I didn't think this was exactly the perfect time to bring up

  the conversation, but it had to be done. "With you out on the

  road lately and unable to keep your contacts as closely watched as

  you once were, perhaps we should think about you training someone to

  maintain them for you."

  My aunt stiffened in her chair

  and I could tell that her hackles were raised. I knew she would hate

  the idea and immediately want to rail against it, but we could only

  ignore the elephant in the room that was her eventual decline for so

  long. It felt like the political situation was only going to get more

  complicated and it was painfully obvious that Mari was struggling to

  keep up.

  "I can't believe you

  would even suggest," she said with an angry huff. "I have

  been dealing with all of the espionage since I was barely a woman,

  Evonia never had to worry one iota about it and I kept this castle

  safe and informed."

  "You certainly have, but

  everyone deserves a break sometimes. Besides, who better to train

  someone to take over eventually than you?" I reached across the

  table and placed my hand on top of hers. "I'm not going to order

  you to give up your position, I would never do that to you, but I do

  think you should consider it, if for no other reason than to give

  yourself a break sometimes. I felt her hand tense, but soften under

  mine, though her face never changed expression.

  "Perhaps if I was not

  being ran around the kingdoms looking around for the faintest of

  magical abilities I would be able to keep up like I used to."

  "I wish I could send

  someone else," I offered,"but we both know that I can't be

  running the mission and the kingdom at the same time and Mistra would

  stick out like a sore thumb."

  Mari eyed my consort briefly,

  she still seemed to be a bit upset about her presence, but that was a

  different issue that could wait for later.

  "Yes, yes, I know I'm the

  best for the job, I was not suggesting otherwise, merely explaining

  why I've been spread thin," she grumbled.

  "Think on it," I

  said and stood. I offered my hand to Mistra who accepted it and stood

  with me. "If you come to a decision, let me know, I have some

  thinking of my own to do."