The Ties That Bind Us

The Kidnapping

Wouldn't that be funny, Stiles? If you were stuck down here for all eternity? Would you say that makes you feel crazy? Angry? Do you think that would open the door even more for chaos?

Hearing the trickster's words Stiles was seriously on the verge of a heart-attack when something jolted him back into reality—Hans. Stiles had a sarcastic greeting on his lips, but Hans didn't give him a chance. "Forget the filing and follow me," he said. "You've been summoned."

"I—what?" Highly unexpected. "Summoned where?"

Hans's face was grim. "To see the queen."

Stiles noticed his escort was leading him to the main business buildings of the Court, the places where all royal governing was conducted. Shit. This was more serious than he had thought. And indeed, when he was finally ushered into the room where Natalie Martin waited... well, he nearly came to a standstill and couldn't enter. Only a slight touch on his back from one of the guardians with him kept him moving forward. The place was packed.

The room was heavily decorated, conveying an old-world royal feel, with painstakingly carved floral molding and shining gold candleholders on the walls. There were actually lit candles in them, too. Their light reflected off the metallic decorations in the room. The people in the room sat at a long table. Natalie herself sat at the middle of the table, with five half-breeds on one side and four on the other. The Council.

The people sitting on either side of Natalie were the ten half-breeds for the nine acting royal families. Both Scott and Kira, who were not eighteen yet, were missing. Stiles was looking at the princes and princesses of the supernatural world. The oldest member of each family claimed the royal title and an advisory spot beside Natalie. Sometimes the eldest waived the spot and gave it to someone the family felt was more capable, but the selectee was almost always at least forty-five. The Council elected the king or queen, a position held until death or retirement.

Stiles remained near the entrance to the room, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, wondering what was in store. He hadn't just earned public humiliation—he had apparently earned it in front of the most important half-breeds in the world. Wonderful.

A gangly man with patchy white hair stood up and cleared his throat. Immediately, the hum of conversation died. Silence filled the room.

"This session of the Royal Council is now in order," he declared. "Her Royal Majesty, Natalie Martin, is presiding." He gave a slight bow in her direction and then discretely sat back down.

"Thank you," Queen Natalies said. She was using her royal voice, resonant and impressive, filling the room. "We will be continuing our conversation from yesterday."

Wait... what? They had been discussing Stiles yesterday, too?

Bob was chuckling at the back of Stiles's head.

"Today we will be hearing testimony from a newly made guardian." Natalie's sharp gaze fell on Stiles. The whole room's did. "Mieczyslaw Stilinski, will you please come forward?"

Stiles flinched upon hearing his first name and was thankful none of his friends were there. He did go forward, keeping his head high and posture confident. He didn't exactly know where to stand, so he picked the middle of the room, directly facing Natalie. He gave a small, proper bow and then met her eyes directly, bracing for what was to come.

"Guardian Stilinski, will you state your age?" she asked.

"Eighteen?" It sounded like a question.

"And how long have you been eighteen?" she asked.

"A few months."

She waited a couple moments to let it sink in, as though this were important information. "Guardian Stilinski, we understand that around that time, you withdrew from the Academy of Beacon Hills," she went on. "Is this correct?"