Мишель Роуэн - Reign Check

I looked toward the line of tall thick trees — the forest that bordered Rhys’s land. So beautiful and lush and strangely welcoming. Then I turned to look at the field of flowers where we stood. Slowly it changed from soft green grass to sharp gray rock, leading to a black, windowless fortress with massive spires reaching up into the stormy, lightning-etched skies above.

The Shadowlands castle — the nasty-looking, scary place my father called home and that filled me with a healthy dose of dread whenever I saw it.

Despite how uneasy the castle made me instinctively feel, I finally nodded. “Let’s go.”

The walk took ten minutes, after which we reached the twenty-foot-tall front door of the castle. We stood on the threshold, and the door slowly began to creak open enough to let us inside. It did that automatically for me — apparently the castle itself could sense that I was the princess and therefore allowed inside.

Michael led me through the cavernous foyer toward a spiral staircase at the center that seemed to extend right up to a ceiling so high I could barely even see it. I’d been here before, of course, but this time I took a moment to look around at the darkness that surrounded me. This wasn’t a happy place. It was cold and unwelcoming, and it sent a shiver of fear down my spine.

The very stone this castle was made from helped keep unwanted elements from the dark worlds — including any demons who would like to find a way into the human and faery worlds for malevolent reasons. Supposedly it worked well — and had for a long time. I guess it didn’t have to look like Disneyworld, did it?

Still. A few colorful cushions or wall hangings might be a nice, friendly touch.

“I can’t believe you’ve lived here all your life,” I said to Michael in a hushed voice.

“Since I was a baby,” he said. “It’s really not that bad. You’d get used to it if you had to.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone walk by. I jumped. The gray-haired man glanced at us, then disappeared into a room up ahead without saying a word.

“It’s okay,” Michael said. “The servants have all returned to take care of the castle and the king.”

“More Shadows like you?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, I’m the only Shadow here. The other servants are all demons. There aren’t that many, really, but you’ll see them here and there. They won’t bother you unless you need something from them.”

“Oh, uh … okay.”

The last time I’d been here, my aunt had sent the servants away while my father was dying, so they wouldn’t see him in such a weakened, pain-filled condition. It was out of respect for the king’s image. Of course, it turned out that he was only dying because she was slowly poisoning him. Any servants she allowed to stay around might have been witness to that.

Michael led me upstairs, and I found that my usual feeling of anxiety was now mixed with something more like anticipation. I honestly looked forward to seeing my father again, even though I was really mad at him for keeping Michael a servant.

My father was waiting for us in his large stone-walled meeting room. He sat alone at the head of a long black table surrounded by heavy high-backed chairs. A huge fireplace blazed across from the archway leading into the room. It seemed to be the only source of light, casting the room in flickering shadows. He stood up and walked over to us when we entered.

“Nikki,” he said, greeting me warmly. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

Even though I didn’t want to, I couldn’t help but smile, still shocked by how much I looked like him. My whole life, I’d never really wondered if I did, but now I could clearly see that I resembled my father.

He had blond hair, a few shades darker than mine, and hazel eyes. He was dressed in black clothes — a shirt and pants that looked surprisingly human, given the medieval ambience.

Yes, in his human form, my father looked like he would fit in just fine in my world. No one would ever guess for a moment, at least not at first glance, that he was a demon king. However, I knew his demon form was very different from that of the handsome man who currently stood before me.

“Glad to be here,” I said. “Because we need to talk.”

“Oh?” He looked taken aback. “About what?”

“About … a promise you made.” I looked at Michael. He’d already backed away from me, putting some distance between us. What did he think I was going to do? Grab him and start making out with him in front of my father to prove a point?

Not likely. I might be a rebel, but I wasn’t a stupid one. At least, I certainly hoped not.

My father glanced at the two of us warily. “There is a more pressing issue to discuss today, Nikki. Can you hold off on anything else until we’ve handled that?”

“Handled what?”

“I have a guest who wishes to speak with both of us. That’s why I asked for you to come here today. He promises to be brief.”

Something caught my eye. Someone else was in the room with us. I hadn’t even noticed him standing over in a corner of the room unlit by the fireplace. It was a man, tall, with jet-black hair. He looked familiar, but it took me a moment to put my finger on who he was.

“Hello, Princess Nikki,” the man said as he drew closer. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

I drew in a ragged breath. I’d seen him once before. His name was Kieran. Prince Kieran, from the Underworld. He was my aunt Elizabeth’s boyfriend. The one who’d helped her poison my father in an attempt to take over the throne of the Shadowlands and gain control of the barrier protecting the human and faery worlds.

“What is he doing here?” I asked my father, taking an immediate step back from Kieran.

I felt my father’s hand on my shoulder. “Nikki, it’s fine.”

“Fine?” My voice sounded pitchy. “How can you say this is fine?” I looked at Michael. “Did you know about this?”

He shook his head, his jaw tight. “No. I promise I didn’t.”

My father crossed his arms. “I didn’t tell Michael anything other than that I wanted him to fetch you.”

Fetch me? Did he even realize how demeaning that sounded? But at the moment, I couldn’t think about it. I was too freaked by seeing Kieran up close and personal.

My gaze shot to my father. “How could you even let him in the castle? What if he tries to kill you?”

“Prince Kieran denies any allegations that he was assisting Elizabeth with her plans.”

“And you believe him?”

His lips pressed together and I could see the tension he’d been trying to hide. “What I believe is inconsequential at the moment. All I can tell you is that if, by chance, anything unexpected happens while the prince is here in my kingdom”—his eyes turned from hazel like mine to demon red in a split second—“it would be highly unacceptable.”

He sounded civil, but I could hear the underlying threat in his words. If Kieran tried something funny, then he’d seriously regret it … but only for a short, painful moment.

The thought was oddly comforting.

Kieran’s expression didn’t change from neutrally pleasant. “To ease your mind, Princess, let me explain that, while any member of demon royalty visits the Shadowlands, it’s a rule that they must voluntarily give up their powers for as long as they stay. I’m as helpless as a human at the moment.”

“Elizabeth wasn’t helpless,” I said.

“No,” my father replied. “She was an exception, since she was family. But she can’t return again.”

Elizabeth had been banished to the Underworld as punishment for her crimes. Not much of a punishment as far as I was concerned, but at least it meant she was far away from here with no chance of ever returning.