Page 17 of The Shadows Between Us
“Message received. I’ll let you get back to it. But where is your master?”
I glance around the room, taking in the colors on the spines, when the king arrives.
Only he doesn’t use the door.
He walks right through a wall of books.
My back snaps straight in my chair as I watch the Shadow King take shape through the books, the shadows around him growing lighter when he’s all the way through the wall.
He’s already watching me when his eyes take shape beyond the tomes, and I wonder if he was observing me, waiting for my eyes to land on that exact spot on the wall before stepping through solid shelves.
My eyes harden of their own accord. “Is that supposed to impress me?” Belatedly, I tack on, “Your Majesty.”
His knee-high boots tread softly on the carpet as he crosses the room. “I have already guessed it takes quite a lot to impress you.” He pulls the opposite chair out for himself and sits.
We watch each other for a moment in silence, but finally, curiosity gets the best of me. “How long have you been able to do that?”
“Walk through walls? The ability runs in the royal family, though it doesn’t develop until a child starts to grow into adulthood.”
“A side effect of the shadows, no doubt.”
The Shadow King grins as he brings his teacup to his lips. “No doubt,” he says after a swallow.
I can tell he’s greatly amused by my questions, and that realization has me shutting up. I put my full focus on my teacup instead, drinking while looking around at the great expanse of a room. I can neither give him exactly what he wants nor be too predictable. I have to walk a very fine line. It is the same with every man.
“I see Demodocus is performing his duties excellently as watchdog,” the king says to the dog’s back.
I stifle a smile. “Is that really what he’s for?”
“When he’s around, I’ve noticed those at court are less likely to approach me. When I bought him, he was meant to be a source of protection.”
“And instead you were stuck with a teddy bear,” I say with a fond look at the dog.
After a knock and the king’s call of “Enter,” servants bring in our supper. It would appear they’ve brought all four courses at once. A bowl of soup is set before me, and the smell of squash and cream wafts upward, making my mouth water. Next to it is placed a tray of fruits, neatly sliced, with a serving bowl of sweet yogurt for dipping. The main course is cured elk, cut in spiced strips and placed on a bed of greens.
And finally, a slice of chocolate cake for each of us is positioned in the center of the table, chocolate drizzle steaming along the sides.
The men in tights and wigs halt along the edges of the room.
“Leave us,” the king says. “We won’t need anything else.”
There’s something about watching him give orders that has myblood flowing faster in my veins. He has such power. Men are forced to obey him without a word of protest. They would do anything he commanded.
I want that power.
Seeing it up close has my resolve hardening.
When the door closes, I shift the plates and bowls in front of me, moving everything to the sides of the table until my path is clear to the chocolate cake. That, I bring forward, until it’s directly in front of me.
I don’t look at the king, but I get the sense that he’s watching me closely. As I take a bite, the soft cake practically melts in my mouth, and I know I made the right choice to start with it while it’s still warm.
When I can’t take the awkwardness any longer, I deign to look up. The king has his own slice of cake in front of him.
“How alike we are,” he says after licking a drop of drizzle from his lips.
“Because we both enjoy chocolate? You can’t get out much if you think that an uncommon trait.”
He takes a drink from one of the goblets that was brought in with the food. “I didn’t mean the chocolate. When I see something I want, I reach for it without hesitation.”
