Swords of the Secret Son

Chapter 20 - Vander Treyani

"Vander," called an airy voice.

Son. Reene Ardmare had just called me Arwen's son.

Son.

I played around with the word, stretching out the lone syllable, trying to comprehend what I had just heard. I wasn't sure if I believed it.

Son.

Reene had called me the queen's son.

Son.

And I didn't believe it.

"Vander!" I heard it again, bouncing through my pounding mind. "Vander!"

"J-Jay," I replied mindlessly. "Is it - is it true?"

"It's Clarence. I'm Jay's brother. And to the extent of my knowledge, yes," he said solemnly. As he spoke, an image of his face seemed to be projected on everything in sight.

"Am I -"

"No, you're not going crazy. Jay hasn't mastered this trick yet. In fact, I like to keep it to myself."

"Are you -"

"No, I'm definitely dead."

"Is she really -"

"I'm not sure if she is really your mother, however it's not an option to rule out."

"Why are you -"

"I'm a Seer. And I can anticipate your next movements as a Being. Now wake up, boy, it's time to stop sleeping. Someone is here to see you."

"Can you -"

"Yes, I can speak to you when you're sleeping. Again, it's a trick I haven't shared. Now get up!"

I opened my eyes and found myself where I never thought I'd be. I was sitting on a large, plush, four poster bed with a velvet quilt and silk sheets. The pillows were stuffed with the softest of goose feathers and the windows overlooked the palace gardens. The only things that showed that I was a prisoner were the bars outside of the glass on the window and the magic restricting collar around my neck.

"He's up, Your Majesty," a guard alerted the queen from outside the door. Lying on the bed, I couldn't hear the queen enter through the oiled doors.

"Arwen Larke," I greeted coldly, stretching out each syllable slowly.

"Mr. Larke," she smiled, using the same tone of voice, probably scheming as usual.

"Don't call me that," I grunted.

"Then you haven't accepted it."

"And what if I don't believe it?"

"Then you'll have a hard time accepting your execution on Monday at dusk," Arwen said, piercing her blue, cold, deep eyes at mine that made her look like a ghost.

"My - my what?"

"Your execution, of course. You don't think I'd let an illegitimate son steal the throne from me, do you?"

"I -"

"Quiet, you vermin. You should feel honored to be staying in a room like this. Only family gets it." Arwen put up a fake smile once more and strode out of the room like a goddess.

"Wait! Who's my dad? Why did you abandon me? What happened to the others?" I asked desperately as I heard the doors lock. I sighed. I suppose it was considerate for her not to leave me in a cold, damp cell, but she was truly too obsessed with power if she would kill me because I posed a threat to her unnaturally long reign.