Prince of Lies [COMPLETED]

Chapter 8

It took all of a second for Viscon to take Frederick back to Thescan, making them appear at the tree line where they first met. From there the castle of Thescan could be seen from a distance, towering into the night like pillars of stone.

Home. He had returned home, and he recalled Arabella's words: In fact, if you prefer it, you may return to Thescan indefinitely. I need only bother you if the water does not come.

How tempting that would be.

"It looks different at night," said Viscon. "I can see a road that leads to the castle. Shall I take us there?"

He wanted to ask Viscon to return to Carnelia but knew the vampyre would refuse, and there wasn't a thing Frederick could do to make him leave. "No. I don't want to risk anyone accidentally seeing us appear out of thin air. We might frighten them." He looked up into the night sky, finding the stars were barely visible tonight. "Besides, it might be nicer to walk."

They both wended through the trees until they reached the path that led to the city's entrance. They traversed the rest of the way in silence until they neared the kingdom walls.

Soldiers by the entrance caught sight of them, and they raised their spears and pointed them at Viscon. Frederick removed his hood and glowered. "Lower your weapons at once and open the gates."

They obeyed, and several soldiers scurried to open the gates for the arrival of their prince.

#

Frederick's room remained untouched in his absence, and though he had only been away for a month he viewed it through new eyes. A modest bed sat on the far right against the window. Swords, axes, and shields hung above the empty fireplace. Stuffed chairs rested at careless angles in the room. There were no sculptures. No paintings. No books for entertainment. He hadn't wanted anything with flourish to decorate the room, ordering the servants to remove the canopies and drapery so he could rise with the sun. He took his meals alone before heading to the stables to ride his horses, then spent the remainder of the day doing tasks he hated, including military or political meetings. And in the evening he returned to this place alone night after night.

It all seemed so menial now.

"Will you need anything, Your Majesty?" one of the soldiers asked.

"No," Frederick said. "That will be all."

"And-" The guard swallowed. "And your valet?"

Frederick glanced at Viscon. "He will occupy the room next to mine and make his own adjustments to it. You may leave."

The soldiers bowed and left.

Viscon cast his eyes about the room, forming his own silent impressions. "May I get you ready for rest, Your Majesty?"

"No, but you can help me prepare. Fetch something formal from the wardrobe, please. Something very Thescan."

Viscon asked no questions and set to work, helping Frederick shed his garments and change into new ones. As he suspected, the peace and quiet did not last. Footsteps boomed from the hall, causing Frederick to sigh.

"Shall I tell them to not disturb you?" Viscon asked.

Frederick shook his head. "No. This one will not take no for an answer."

"Very good."

The door creaked open, and boot-steps scuffed against stone before abruptly halting. "Frederick?"

"Father," Frederick said, focusing on his cuff. "Meet my valet Viscon. Viscon, may I introduce you to Prince Urnald of Aldren Heights, my father and the brother to the Gentle King."