Rafe’s

  jaw was clenched tight, his eyes focused on the table in front of

  him. It was never a good sign when my father stopped talking and

  started lapsing into silence, it only happened when he was truly

  trying to refrain himself from exploding. Laric sat at the end

  opposite our father, eyes raised in defiance instead of submitting to

  the anger and apologizing. The tuft of jet black hair positioned

  between the two large, curled horns on his head was slicked back and

  groomed, indicating that he had put some effort into appearing mature

  and respectful.

  “All

  I meant-“

  My

  father let out a guttural hiss and raised his hand to silence Laric.

  “You don’t speak until I tell you to, and even then, you might

  want to consider still keeping your mouth shut.”

  Laric

  snapped his mouth shut and sniffed his disapproval. He was very

  accustomed to getting his way. My brother had a silver tongue and

  could charm nearly anyone out of anything when he put his mind to it.

  The rest of my brothers sat uneasily on the fringes of the table

  along side me, having been summoned to hear Laric’s important news.

  Now their faces alternated between annoyance for having left

  important business and barely concealed enjoyment for the fireworks

  to come.

  My

  father took a deep breath in, then let it out as a long, low rumble.

  “Am I to understand that you have gone and arranged your own

  marriage without even consulting me first?”

  Laric

  nodded and rolled his eyes. “I thought you would be happy to cement

  an alliance at this precarious point in time.” He flicked a piece

  of lint from his lush silk overcoat, he had always been someone to

  enjoy the finer things in life. He staunchy held the belief that he

  was meant to live in the uppermost laps of luxury and tried to weasel

  into any situation that fit that end.

  My

  younger brother had, since a very young age, been upset about his

  birth position. With a few siblings before him, he stood almost no

  chance of seeing the throne. I was almost certain that assassination

  had run through his mind a few times, but he had already made his

  ambitions a bit too well known to get away with the crime. If even

  just a whiff of such a plot made it to any of us, I was certain we

  would take no qualms in banishing him to some far flung plane where

  he would never return.

  Laric

  was that stereotypical annoying younger sibling who whined about

  unfairness if any sibling received something and he did not. It had

  made celebrations of any sort difficult. Laric would spend the whole

  event vying for the spotlight, even if the event had nothing to do

  with him whatsoever. One would think that being a prince would be

  well enough for anyone, but he was never satisfied with anything less

  than complete control over everything within his reach. Unfortunately

  for him, he had not been bestowed with the gift of surreptitiousness

  and wore his thoughts on his face.

  Regardless,

  Rotvire and Ivar, my eldest brothers, kept an eye on Laric, following

  the wise path not to trust his motivations. They had always been very

  protective of me when Laric was involved. My frustratingly weak

  powers would make me no match to stand up to him on my own and as the

  only little sister, there was also their sense of fraternal duty.

  “Succubi,”

  my father growled, “of all the options for allies, you pick the one

  I like the least.” He began to tap the table before him with his

  index finger to accentuate his words. “No good has ever come from

  our family dealing with that lot.”

  “I

  think that’s because you and grandfather always treated them like

  common whores,” Laric said with a disdainful sniff.

  “They

  are little better.” Rafe leaned back in his chair, a look of

  contemplation growing on his features in addition to his raw fury.

  “What did they offer you? You are often a fool, but this is

  something different all together. I have half a mind to remove you

  from the line of succession entirely.”

  Laric’s

  lips curled up into a half-smile and he leaned forward over the

  table. “If you could have a succubus in your bed every night,

  wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Very

  funny,” my father grumbled, “now answer the question.”

  Laric

  sniffed in a barely audible laugh, as if his first answer felt to him

  to have been enough. “They offer a chance to be the voice and

  representation for our kingdom, it’s me they will come to first.

  Plus, I get to occupy the seat of a monarch as I’ll be wed to the

  queen.”

  Laric

  locked eyes with me, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. It

  seemed that he had still held resentment on Toria picking myself over

  him. He was too arrogant to surmise the reasons why he had been a bad

  choice.

  “A

  monarch to what?” my father asked with a gruff laugh. “A kingdom

  full of gossip and backstabbing? You know, I have half a mind to

  allow this marriage to proceed just on the grounds that I could wash

  my hands of you and when you came back whining, I could point you

  back out the door.”

  Ivar

  cleared his throat and even my father fell silent, my second eldest

  brother rarely spoke. He was more like me in that regard, he tended

  to weigh things more carefully before speaking. Though, I definitely

  would not call him level-headed, he as prone to sudden anger and

  irrational speaking just as much as the others. In fact, his

  impulsiveness could be more destructive as he spent more time going

  through with actions rather than speaking them and perhaps being

  convinced otherwise.

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  “I

  would let him go, father,” Ivar said, a slight grin growing on his

  lips. “He is trouble, we all agree on that, let him go be someone

  else’s trouble.”

  “I

  agree,” I echoed.

  Laric

  glanced at me, a look of mild surprise on his face. It was not usual

  for me to be vocal during these kinds of contemptuous family

  meetings. Typically I felt the subject was petty, erroneous, or my

  opinion wouldn’t be heard, but this time I found the outcome might

  perhaps further my own goals.

  “Well

  now you know for sure how difficult you are,” my father snorted.

  “Anyone else think we should rid ourselves of him?”

  Heads

  around the table nodded, not a single sibling had an argument for him

  to stay.

  “I

  still don’t like that I wasn’t consulted,” my father said

  gruffly, “but I can’t deny that life is likely to be notably

  easier without having to worry about you slinking in the shadows

  scheming and conniving.”

  My

  father made a dismissive gesture with his hand and Laric rose to his

  feet, looking to everyone in the room as if he expected someone to

  have a change of heart and stop him. When no one reacted, a smug

  smile tugged at his lips and he rubbed his hands together in a sign

  of satisfaction.

  “I

  will leave in the morning,” he said, then turned and marched from

  the room.

  “Good

  riddance,” my father grumbled, his anger not completely assuaged.

  “Don’t think that this means any of the rest of you can pull

  something similar. He’s just more trouble than he’s worth. The

  rest of you have some purpose I can see in you. Him? He’s got

  nothing worth the trouble.”

  “Good

  news brothers, and sister,” Rotvire bellowed with a half-grin,

  “we’re worth something to our dear father.”

  “I

  never thought I’d see the day!” Ivar exclaimed with fake jubilee,

  wiping away a nonexistent tear.

  Rafe

  sneered and snorted with restrained amusement as he rose from the

  table, signifying the meeting was complete.

  “Oh,

  I think that’s not quite an accurate picture,” I countered. “I

  think it’s more a matter that he knows if we band together, he

  would stand little chance. He must keep us in his good graces and

  under his watchful eye for his own piece of mind.”

  My

  father glanced at me askance, a dark glint in his eye. It seemed that

  he was both bothered and impressed by the fact I had the insight.

  “Father

  knows that we would likely never all come together for Laric’s,

  defense. We know that he would pretty much stab any one of us in the

  back without much thought,” I continued. “None of us have ever

  had much desire for Laric to continue skulking around the castle

  trying to find gaps in our armor.”

  “My

  back should be included as well,” father grunted. “He has always

  worn his ambitions on his sleeve. Even as a young boy, I saw the

  burning desire to be king in his eyes. For now, at least I know I can

  feel a bit of peace knowing he’s going to shortly be another

  kingdom’s problem.”

  After

  tugging down on his doublet to smooth the wrinkles and rolling his

  shoulders back to an imperial stance, my father marched towards the

  door, though not before laying the barest whisper of a hand on my

  shoulder as he passed.

  Since

  returning to the demon realm to train, father had been peeking into

  my sessions, though I suspected that he thought I didn’t notice. It

  was true that most of my demonic powers were woefully inadequate, but

  my ability to perceive and discern the type of magic used around me

  was flawless. This was a fact that I had ensured to keep entirely to

  myself. It had taken no effort on my part to detect the scrying and

  who was its originator. As gruff and hard as he was on us, I knew he

  held a secret soft spot for me as his only daughter and in some

  regards he blamed himself for my lack of magical power.

  After

  the meeting, I returned to the training room to find the trainer had

  already dismissed himself to whatever strange corner of the castle he

  inhabited. No one was exactly sure where he resided, it seemed that

  not only did he not want us to know his true form, but he went to

  great lengths to give us no chance for any clues at all. His absence

  was welcome, I knew he favored me over the rest of the lot, but he

  had more than once shown himself to have loose lips.

  Gathering

  power around me, I felt the immense expanse of demonic potential open

  below me like a bottomless well. It was a struggle to not be engulfed

  by the sheer volume of power to be drawn from and I had to press back

  against it with my own weak power to stop it from crushing me. The

  surge of power electrified the hairs on my body, causing them to

  stand on end and tingle uncomfortably. I held the pose like a statue,

  continuously pushing with all my magical might to keep the conduit

  open yet at bay, the strain breaking sweat along my brow. I had made

  a great deal of progress, when I first started I could not withstand

  the pressure but for a few fleeting seconds. Despite the magical tug

  of war, I sensed the sphere of power pressing down on me change shape

  as someone else entered the room, their reaction to push back on the

  surging magic nearly effortless.

  “Mistra,”

  Laric intoned, a noted amusement in his voice, “I didn’t expect

  you to summon me in the middle of your training.”

  With

  a swift explosion of will, I snapped myself off from the power and a

  wave of intense dizziness washed over me, nearly throwing me from my

  feet. I played off the stumble as more of a step forward and hoped

  that the cover was not too obvious.

  “It

  is the only time most everyone else is uninterested in speaking with

  me,” I explained, turning to face him.

  “I

  see,” he said with a bemused smile, “which makes it all the more

  odd that my dear sister would want to speak with me during this time.

  Especially now that I am preparing to leave.”

  “I

  merely wanted to extend my congratulations,” I lied, the corners of

  my lips curling up at the humorous idea.

  “Ha,”

  Laric laughed, “next you’ll be telling me that you want an invite

  to the wedding.”

  “You

  did have one to mine.”

  Laric

  puffed up his chest and glared at me. “You were picked over me, we

  both know I was the obvious choice. I don’t know what kind of deal

  you managed to make to entice her otherwise, but such underhanded

  treachery is not so easily forgiven.”

  I

  let out a trilling laugh and stepped towards him, laying my hand on

  his shoulder in a matronly way. “My dear brother, it would have

  come to you by now just why my queen refused your advances. You are

  too ambitious, too cunning, you would have found a path that made you

  the commander on the throne and her the subservient.”

  My

  brother’s face did not change expression, though his rigid stance

  had relaxed slightly.

  “Besides,”

  I continued, “is your new arrangement not better? Surely a succubus

  will be more easily supplicated than a daughter of Yser.”

  “What

  is your plan?” he replied, folding his hands over his chest. “I’m

  certain now that you have told me to meet you for something you don’t

  want the others to hear us speak about.”

  I

  let an approving smile form on my face and I took my hand from his

  shoulder. “I think we both know that neither of us were ever

  intended to wield regal power, yet here we are. You to be a king and

  myself a consort to a powerful queen, but I’m inclined to say that

  my potential is beyond that of a mere consort.”

  “I

  see,” Laric said with a wicked smile, “you wish to usurp the

  throne of Yser.”

  “No,”

  I said sharply, then caught his surprised expression, “I mean she

  is the appropriate monarch in that regard.” I stoically chose to

  ignore his mirthful gaze. “I do think that I am the obvious choice

  for ruler of this realm, however.”

  Laric

  took a deep breath in and began to wander the training room, looking

  around as if he could find the perfect reply hidden somewhere in the

  flecks and imperfections in the stone walls.