The Consort's Fate

Chapter 3

His words stir something inside me. It burns like an ember, its warmth trickling through my veins like a living current. It is an emotion, no doubt, but I experience them so infrequently that I cannot ascertain which it is. This is Mr. Primary's proof I am a Secondary, because vampires do not have emotions. He tells me, 'they're birthed from the deepest crevices of the hellish inferno. They are heartless creatures, Finn. Pure and undiluted evil.'

"Thank you, Douglas." I sigh and push away from the foyer railing. "I've kept you out here long enough. Let's see what Mr. Primary needs."

He breathes out a sigh of relief. It's never pleasant to keep our Mr. Primary waiting. Douglas follows a step behind me as we make our way across the foyer. Just as he pulls the door open for me, the first droplet of rain lands on my skin and absorbs into the fine hairs of my forearm. Goosebumps follow in its wake, the very electricity in the sky delicately humming through me. My earlier notions are confirmed with a single touch of Nature's fingertips.

A change is near.

<<< >>>>

I'm told the renovated, Secondary fortress is much different than the underground layer it used to be. Only years ago, the entire Secondary population lived within the confines of the mountain. They were barricaded within, with rocks as their walls and dirt as their flooring. Mr. Primary has yet to allow me to visit. It's now a monument of war, he explains. Out of respect, it should remain unbothered. Besides, the demons of war still reside in there, the souls of the damned trapped and ready to prey on all who dare enter.

Glass vines hang suspended from the ceiling. Glittering lights serve as their leaves, shimmering overhead to create a soft pathway of illumination through the hallways. Douglas' footsteps click across the marbled floor. It's been recently waxed, and my fair complexion bounces back to greet me in the reflection.

I try to imagine a dirt floor as we travel deeper into the fortress. Mr. Primary and his staff have quite the penchant for the finer things. Envisioning them in a dingy, dirty fortress seems unreal. Another world entirely.

Many tell me it is a gift I am rid of my memories. Still, oftentimes I find myself wishing I could find my way back to them. All I get are bits and pieces from Mr. Primary, coupled with the hushed rumors of the staff (which they don't think I'm able to hear). The details never align.

According to Mr. Primary and his Secondary warrior, Tegan, the war almost killed me. Near the end, an enemy and prisoner of war injected me with a venomous poison just before making his escape. The venom traveled to my brain, successfully wiping away my memories before putting me into a coma. He claims I was a hero, though, and that my sacrifices helped end the war.

"Here we are, Mr. Secondary."

Douglas ushers me into Mr. Primary's chambers, bidding me goodbye with a parting bow. He takes his place outside the door, positioned alongside Mr. Primary's personal guards until I make my return. I walk along the familiar route to Mr. Primary's meeting room. The vibrant, clear light of the hallway is replaced with a dim, crimson hue. It bounces against the gray walls and highlights the abstract artwork hanging from the walls. They're all angular bodies of glass, with varying shades of sand swept across their surfaces. Every piece is frozen in time.

The same artwork lines the walls of my chamber as well, yet it can be found nowhere else in the fortress. Just our chambers. I was not consulted with décor choices, but even if I was, my preferences would inevitably be denied. The purpose for the matching display is more than preference. It is a silent statement.

Mr. Primary expectantly waits for me at the head of his mahogany table. He is flanked on either side by Tegan and Leo, the man in charge of public relations with the human population. They glance up as I make my entrance. None of their expressions give away the purpose behind the summon, but as I near Leo and Tegan, I sense a hint of excitement.

"Finn."

Mr. Primary addresses me as I take my seat beside him. My name is whispered with a tone laced with optimism and pride, a dangerous combination. His piercing blue eyes study every inch of my face. He does this often, studying me, searching for the answers to a question that's yet to be unveiled.

"Mr. Primary," I say.

I use his formal title to keep distance between us. Just like my preference for Douglas to address me as Finn, Mr. Primary prefers I use his informal name as well. Reyo. Given our surrounding company, though, he doesn't correct it.

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Secondary," Leo greets with a nod.

Tegan throws him a warning glance as a flash of irritation passes over Mr. Primary's face. Even if he publicly speaks of us as equals, I know Mr. Primary's true view on humans. It is detestable. Is that the cause for such an unfavorable reaction?

"You as well, Leo," I say in returned greeting, purposely pushing the envelope of Mr. Primary's irritation. I tap my slender fingers against the surface. "Now, what's all this about?"

It's not often that I'm included in meetings with Tegan, and certainly not with Leo. Mr. Primary straightens, and a genuine smile stretches across his thin lips.

"For five years, Finn, I have asked you to be our nation's second King. To stand beside me as my equal and build an empire with me. An empire in which the Secondary Era will thrive for centuries to come."

He pauses for effect, allowing the words to become suspended in the tense silence. It's both a promise and a threat.

"And for five years, you've requested more freedom," he continues. "To be able to travel the country that is now ours. The country you have long forgotten after that traitor stole it away from you."

By now, I know any offer or deal that is posed by Mr. Primary comes with hefty strings attached. He does not give charity, especially at his own expense. Still, the prospect of more freedom pulls at my deeper desires. Despite my best efforts to keep a neutral reaction, I curiously raise a brow. Mr. Primary's eyes gleam. He knows he has my attention.

"I've designed a tour of sorts," Mr. Primary continues. "You'll be taken to the largest towns and markets all across the country. You'll be able to see the land, to meet the people, and to get a taste of that freedom you so desire.

He makes a sweeping gesture to Leo.

"Leo will be making public addresses at every stop, building rapport and camaraderie amongst our citizens." His hand turns towards Tegan. "And Tegan will be traveling one step ahead throughout the tour. She'll assess any security pitfalls and mitigate the risks prior to our arrival. As you know, Finn, you are still a major target after the war. There are still vultures out there who would try to steal you. Torture you."

His gaze sharpens. He wants me to hear his words and feel their weight. I give a nod of understanding. There's a mixture of emotions emitting from both Leo and Tegan, but I hold Mr. Primary's attention to keep from any distraction with the conversation at hand.

"It sounds promising," I say. I mull over my next question before asking gently, "and what shall be my role for this tour?"

Mr. Primary reaches over and pulls my hand into his. His thumb traces over my knuckles.

"Your role shall be the one that has been waiting for your acceptance for years. To agree to be my King. The other proper ruler to this nation. You say the word, Finn, and Tegan will leave tomorrow. Say the word, and the country is yours. Do you accept?"

I think of the raindrop. The flicker of lighting. The looming gray clouds. Fate itself is ready for a change.

"Yes," I say with finality. "I accept."