Path of the King - Chapter 16 (Patreon)

It was just after one when we came in for our final approach, the muted whine of the deploying landing gear barely audible over the rumble of the engines. I didn’t move from where I lay stretched out across a luxuriously cushioned divan set against one of the jet’s interior walls, eyes half-lidded and muscles loose and relaxed. I had one arm under my head instead of a pillow, idly turning a partially split lacrosse ball in my hand. The other lay possessively across Ada’s back, the girl fast asleep sprawled on top of my chest, her head resting on my shoulder and her warm breath tickling my neck. Bright sunlight streamed through the windows over the couch, feeling unusually pleasant and tingly against the bare skin of my arm and legs.

It was quiet in the cabin, though not the utter silence of my short trip in Director Edelfelt’s helicopter, and I found I preferred it this way. The constant hum of the engines blended in with the vibration of the cabin, and the muted buzz of the plane’s other occupants’ hushed conversations didn’t bother me. The steady thump of Ada’s heart beat and her barely audible breathing were downright comforting, while the way Nora’s breathing would slowly level off as she dozed, only to hitch—her heart-rare spiking through the roof—whenever she came awake and remembered where she was was downright hilarious. 

Honestly, it had been more than a day and she was still as jumpy as a virgin at a prison rodeo. What did she think I was going to do to her?

The plane tilted and my gaze flicked briefly to the window. I caught a glimpse of the glittering Mediterranean and dull, endless buildings in the distance before I turned my eyes away. Alexandria was beautiful by night, but during the day it always felt to me like the sun bleached the city of most of its color.

Soon after, one of the attendants came through the cabin, footsteps muffled to almost nothing by the thick shag carpet. I met her eyes when she was a few steps from the couch and she stopped, bowing her head and folding her hands over her chest. 

She glanced momentarily at Ada, then back down towards the flor. “We’ll be landing in just a few minutes, Campione,” she told me in a whisper barely loud enough to hear over the sounds of the plane. “Is there anything I can get you?”

I shook my head and she bowed, then turned away and headed back up the aisle with the swaying walk of a runway model. I watched her go appreciatively. It was well known that my second oldest brother was (to put it politely) a collector of fine things, but I hadn’t realized that extended even to the servants of his servants. All the crew members I’d seen had been exceptionally attractive, groomed, and trained. Even the uniform they wore—blue and red with white accents, prominently displaying the symbol of the Royal Arsenal on the breast and back—were perfectly tailored to show off their best features. 

Well, that or perhaps his representative to the Society of Sidhr simply had excellent taste. 

I did not make my triumphant return to Egypt sitting business class, nor flying something as pedestrian as a mid-budget airline like Norwegian. When I’d mentioned my plans to return home while speaking with the Royal Arsenal’s representative, the man had immediately offered me the use of his private jet and its crew. 

I’d been only too happy to accept. I wasn’t nearly as concerned about the Black Prince randomly trying to kill me over some imagined slight, but he was one of my siblings with whom I most certainly wanted to maintain an at least cordial relationship. He was rather well known for his habit of taking things—secrets, treasures, people—that didn’t belong to him, and I would be greatly displeased if he turned his eyes to what was rightfully mine. This was a good way to show the world right from the start that we were not necessarily destined to be enemies.

Plus, well. It was a very nice plane. And a Campione flying commercial sent its own message, and it wasn’t one I was keen on. And this way we could easily redirect to the small private airfield where I expected to be met with a who’s who of Egypt’s magical elite. Including my family. And Anet’s. 

I wasn’t nervous. That would imply that I was afraid, which I wasn’t. There was nothing in Egypt to be afraid of, nothing that could truly threaten me anymore. I wasn’t the same person I’d been just days ago. I wasn’t an embarrassment anymore, a cripple. My parents couldn’t hurt me in any way that mattered. 

But I was…something. There was a tension in my belly that had nothing to do with Ada’s weight and a tickle in my throat that wasn’t a cough. This was it. The day I’d dreamed of for most of my second life, the culmination of everything I’d ever done and worked towards. 

It was almost hard to believe it was real. 

I squeezed and the lacrosse ball, a solid sphere of vulcanized rubber just a little smaller than my first, compressed, bulging out into the gaps between my fingers. I pressed harder, my fingers digging into the rubber like the ram of a hydraulic press, and slowly the narrow split I’d left in the ball earlier in the day began to widen. The tips of my fingers dug into that split, pressing it further and further open, until finally the ball came apart in my hands and I dropped two pieces of ragged rubber onto the carpet behind me. 

Ada shifted on top of me, stirring sleepily, and I raised my head to press a kiss into the sliver of exposed skin on her forehead not hidden beneath her glossy black hair. “Good morning, kitten,” I whispered in her ear. “Good timing. We’re almost there.”

She mumbled something that wasn’t words into my neck, then raised her head. She immediately had to squint against the bright sunlight pouring through the open window, wrinkling her nose adorably, then dropped her face onto my chest to cover her eyes. 

I laughed softly and sat up, swinging her legs around until she was half-sitting in my lap, her nose still digging into my sternum and her arms hanging limply at her sides. I brushed her hair behind her ear, then gently kissed the top of her head. “Up, kitten,” I told her more firmly, and she obeyed, lifting her head to look blearily around the interior of the jet. She blinked several times, then rubbed the sleep from her eyes with her fists and looked around again. 

The interior of the cabin only held her attention for a few moments, her eyes resting briefly on the plane’s trio of other occupants––Nora, some mid-ranking Royal Arsenal member responsible for bringing this fancy jet back to Europe, and an official representative of the Society of Sidhr––before she was transfixed by the view through the window. She had to squint to look out, but she turned fully in my lap and leaned over, practically pressing her nose against the inner pane as she peered out at the landscape filled with tiny cars and buildings passing by beneath us. This was the furthest she’d ever been from home, I knew. I was glad she was enjoying the trip.

Like the attendant had said, it wasn’t much longer till we touched down, our landing as smooth as any I’d ever experienced. The airfield the Council of Sands used was much smaller than the commercial airports I was more used to, and after less than a minute of taxiing we came to a stop. For the second time in as many days I found myself standing just outside the doors of an expensive aircraft, ready to present myself in front of a group of mages who’d outranked me to a truly comical extent just days ago. 

This time, I needed no announcement, nor extra props. Everyone here knew exactly who I was, and no doubt I knew most of them as well––if only from lessons and long ago introductions. I’d spent more time than I probably needed to considering exactly what I wanted to wear today, but eventually I’d decided that I was overthinking things. My people––even if they didn’t know it yet––wanted to see a King. I’d show them one. 

With a thought, I flexed the Authority I’d pressed into my clothing and it flared to life, light swimming across the bleached white linen in mesmerizing patterns as though I lay on the bottom of a pool. It traced the subtle lines of embroidery and glinted within gemstones, transforming already fine clothing into the raiments of a supreme monarch. A moment later, my body too began to glow as though I stood in direct sunlight, though the door of the plane was still closed, and a euphoric sense of strength filled me. 

The door opened and I stepped out onto the steps, getting my first good look at my welcoming committee. There were a lot more people assembled than had met me in Oslo, though they represented a much smaller number of mages. The heads of eleven of the twenty-eight guiding families of the Council of Sands––all the families belonging to the same power block as my own––had come out to welcome me, and most had brought other members of their families or at least a number of attendants. There were also a number of mages not affiliated with any of the great families who had managed to rise to high-ranking positions within the Council through their own merits. 

My family stood at the front of the crowd, joined by Lord Harakty, the current head of the Council, at my father’s side. My mother and father stood side by side in finery worth more than the plane that had carried me to Egypt, their body language showing almost none of the delicious nerves they were no doubt feeling at seeing me standing here before them. They stood just far enough apart that their shoulders didn’t touch, the white-and-silver my mother wore standing out sharply against her dark skin while my father’s white-and-gold accentuated his dark olive complexion. Their Hephaestions stood at their shoulders, clothing only a step below their masters’ finery. 

Dalia stood at my mother’s side, dressed in the same shoulderless dark-blue gown as the last time I’d seen her, though today she had a white scarf wrapped around her head and shoulders. Mother had a hand on her shoulder, and I could see even from this distance the way her long nails were just barely digging into Dalia’s skin through the scarf. Meryt stood half a step behind her, and on her other side, Isidora.

My personal attendant was doing a much worse job hiding her emotions than the rest of my family. She looked like a stiff breeze would blow her away, a combination of shock, awe, surprise, and a dozen more emotions written in sharp lines across her face. Dalia was holding her hand and Isi clutched onto my sister like she was her lifeline, her already far paler skin looking almost bloodless against Dalia’s darker tones. Unlike the others, whose gaze was fixed firmly on me, Isi stared at the ground as though the grains of sand scattered across the tarmac held the secret to reach the Swirl of the Root. 

More than a hundred mages, men and women whose power and authority extended throughout much of the Middle East, North Africa, and parts of Europe and Asia, some of whom could trace their families and legacies to the dawn of human civilization or the heights of the Age of Gods, bowed as one. Some prostrated themselves on the tarmac, while others bowed at the waist, but not one remained standing upright. Even my parents––so proud and arrogant––bowed, their attendants dropping to their knees and pressing their foreheads against the earth. 

I drank it in like a fine wine, savoring the moment. Then I raised my hands. “Rise,” I commanded, and my people obeyed. 

I descended the stairs in silence, walking slowly but deliberately towards the group gathered at the front. Lord Harakty, whose family had once stood at the sides of the Pharaohs of the Middle Kingdom, stepped forward to meet me, bowing again as he did. “The Council of Sands is yours if you would take us, Your Majesty.”

I smiled at him, my Authority flaring briefly until I was so bright as to hurt to look at, “I would. Thank you, Speaker. I expect we’ll be working closely in the coming years. I look forward to it.” I’d heard good things about the man, though mostly not from my father (a ringing endorsement in its own way). 

“Of course. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He stepped aside and then it was my father’s turn. I grinned at the man who’d hated me since I was a child, now faced with his own powerlessness. 

“Son,” he began, and I could practically taste how much it hurt him to say it. Our eyes met and whatever he’d wanted to say caught in his throat. 

“Father,” I enunciated clearly.

It had been years since I’d seen him in person. Even before I’d left I’d managed to avoid him for months at a time, and I’d only run into him a single time since I’d left for college. He looked smaller than I remembered. Weak. Desperate. Pathetic. A shell of a real man. 

He swallowed heavily. “Welcome…home. I’m glad your time abroad was as fruitful as we’d hoped.”

So that was how he wanted to play things. That was okay. There was no need to air out my family’s dirty laundry with all these people about. 

My smile widened until it was filled with teeth. “That it was, my dearest father. The world has changed. It's good to be home.”

Then I turned away from him, looking instead at my mother. I was taller than her now even in her heels, though only by a few inches. She was a beautiful woman, with perfect skin and bountiful curves that she’d passed down to her only daughter. Though I knew she was nearly fifty years old, she looked like she was in the prime of her youth.

I took a step closer to her, looking down into her dark eyes. “Mother, how very lovely to see you again. You’re looking as radiant as ever.”

She did not do anything so crass as step away, but I could hear her heart racing in her chest, taste her anxiety coloring the breath of the world around her. “Keon. It's been lonely at home without you. Welcome back, my son.”

Dalia was next, her smile much more genuine than those of my parents. She greeted me with a wordless hug, and I kissed her on her cheek. “Things are going to be different now,” I whispered in her ear. My hands slid down her body as I released her, thumbs slipping through the slits that started at the tops of her thighs to brush against bare skin. 

She nodded severely. “Welcoe home, Keon. Or should I say ‘Your Majesty’.” 

“Not much of a difference, is it?” I asked her jokingly. I glanced over at our mother, who had released Dalia’s shoulder and was now watching the two of us with an even more obviously forced smile. “Mom’s always had a gift for foresight.”

Dalia laughed, sounding unnaturally loud in the mostly silent field, then gestured to her left. “One more,” she told me softly. 

I turned to Isidora. Isi. Who should have been my closest friend and confidant. 

She still hadn’t looked at me. Not once. 

It hurt. I’d broken that bond between us, but it was she who’d pushed me away. But I was a Campione now. I could be the bigger man. I could finally fix things. 

“Hephaestion, attend me,” I ordered.

Isi moved instantly, training beaten into the depths of her mind and muscles penetrating where racing thoughts couldn’t. She let go of Dalia’s hand and took her place at my shoulder, a single step behind me. Her presence was as familiar as the sun on my neck and the clothes on my back. There was still something brittle about it, cracks that needed to be mended, not merely patched over, but it felt so very right. 

There was still so much I wanted––needed––to say, but now was not the time, nor the place. Not for Isi, not for Dalia, and not for the rest of my family. It did not serve my purposes to show the world just how fractured the Hephaestius family was internally, not until I’d finished bulldozing the rubble and building it anew. 

The anticipation was killing me. I almost couldn’t wait until we stood behind the ancient bounded fields that surrounded our estate. Almost.

With the initial greetings to my family out of the way, the crowd behind them began to move. These were my family’s allies, the men and women who felt best poised to take advantage of the Council’s newfound fortunes. All of them wanted to talk to me, to get a measure of the new Campione and learn how they could best take advantage of my presence to enrich themselves and maybe even advance their research. 

Unfortunately for them, I had eyes for only one person. 

I saw Anet through the crowd, standing with her parents and sisters. The Vorontsov family was one of the youngest to hold a seat on the Council of Sands, something many were all too eager to remind them of even as their power and influence grew year by year. For a time they’d been extremely close allies of my family, but after my prospective engagement with Anet fell through they’d slowly started to drift away from us, even as Anet and I maintained our friendship. 

I’d heard from Dalia and Anet that there were families among the Council who resented how much power such a foreign family had accrued in such a short period of time, and worked to curtail them at every turn. That was one of the issues our marriage was supposed to solve, my family’s history granting the Voronstov legitimacy that they’d failed to establish in the centuries since they’d come here. 

I was not surprised to see them so far back, but I wouldn’t allow my Anet and her family to be so publicly sidelined. 

I cut through the mass of people like a shark through a school of fish, mages parting before my advance, beelining towards the quintet. Unlike many of their peers, the Voronstov were dressed in fine but simple clothing, not elaborate mystic codes like those my family wore. In part it was a sign of their limited resources––they were powerful and well connected, but not all that old and wealthy––but a trained Voronstov did not need offensive or defensive mystic codes to be dangerous. 

They stood in a tight cluster, all five members of the core family assembled to greet me. Anet’s mother and father stood on either side of Azadeh, supporting their middle daughter who looked rather unsteady on her feet. She must still be going through her first change, and I could see just how much pain she was in by the clenching of her jaw and the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. 

Aaliyah, their youngest, stood on her mother’s other side, clinging to her hand and fidgeting nervously. I doubted the girl had ever seen so many people in one place before, and she looked hot and miserable in the midday sun. 

And then there was Anet. My Anet. Beautiful, wonderful, radiant Anet. 

She stood beside her mother, hair shining like waves of liquid gold and a small smile on her lips. She wore a long-sleeved, elegant red dress that hugged her body from neck to ankles, showing no skin but showing off her bountiful curves. A simple gold chain hung around her neck and a woven bracelet was loosely wrapped several times around her wrist.

I’d meant to greet them all politely, to show the Council that I counted their family among my closest allies, but the moment my eyes met Anet’s gray-green ones, those thoughts fled from my mind. I stopped right in front of her, ignoring her father’s bow and greeting. “Anet…” I whispered, suddenly lost for words.

“Keon. So this is what you meant.” She blinked, looking down at her feet. “I’d wondered. I’m glad you’re okay.”

I swallowed past a lump in my throat. “I promised you I’d come back before the end of summer, and here I am.”

“And here you are,” she echoed. 

We were both silent for a moment, and then I reached out and gently cupped Anet’s cheek. Her skin was soft and supple, utterly without flaws or marks. Just like mine was now.

I traced the ridge of her eye with my thumb, then shifted my hand so I could gently stroke her cheek, marveling at the warmth of her skin against my palm. For the first time since we were both children, she felt so fragile under my touch. Like a priceless porcelain vase I could shatter with a simple squeeze of my hand.

But no matter. I would never let anyone hurt Anet. For over a decade, she’d been the strong one between us. The powerful magus and her crippled friend. She’d been the protector.

But no longer. She could just relax now. I would take care of things. I’d take care of everything 

Our eyes met again and my breath caught in my throat. She was so beautiful. My Anet was like a goddess among women. No, not a goddess. A queen. An empress.

And she was all mine now. There was no one who could or would stand in our way anymore.

Anet took a breath, her plump red lips parting just a fraction of an inch, and I finally let myself do something I’d been waiting to do for well over a decade now.

My hand slid around to the back of her head, her hair a river of shining silk between my fingers, and ever so gently tilted her head back. Then I leaned forward and our lips met.

Her lips were as soft and warm as I had always imagined they would be. A wave of fiery heat spread through my body at the contact, my heart pounding and blood roaring in my ears.

I pressed forward, deepening the kiss. Her lips tasted like honey, dates, and hibiscus, and I could smell the lavender and rose soaps she used on her skin and hair. 

Her lips parted, welcoming me in, and I accepted the invitation gladly. Our tongues danced together and I wrapped my other arm around her waist, drawing her toward me until our bodies were separated by only a few thin layers of fabric.

It was everything I’d ever imagined. She was everything I’d ever imagined and more. Her body felt like it was sculpted to fit against mine and the taste of her made me want this moment to never end.

I don’t know how long we stood there. It could have as easily been a minute as an hour. Time lost all meaning when Anet’s body was pressed up against mine and our lips joined. 

Eventually though, even a Vorontsov needed to come up for air. I reluctantly let her break the kiss, but my grip on the back of her head and around her waist didn’t falter in the slightest. Eventually I would have to let her go. I could only ignore the mages around us for so long. Eventually, I’d need to greet them all. Even if they couldn’t truly compare to my power, there were countless other ways a powerful family of mages could inconvenience me in the coming years, and there was no point borrowing unnecessary trouble by offending them. But I would draw this moment out for as long as it could go.

Anet was breathing heavily, her chest rubbing against my own as it rose and fell, and her cheeks were flushed a red almost as dark as her perfect, beautiful lips. She looked so beautiful there was nothing more I wanted then to just kiss her again, but she needed time to catch her breath.

Instead, I kissed her forehead and moved the hand on the back of her head down to wrap around her shoulders. “I did it, Anet. Just like you told me. If I needed a miracle, I just had to reach out and take it.” I paused just long enough to kiss her again, my lips brushing against the corners of her own. “We can be together now. Like we always should have been. You’re mine now. Now, and forever. And no one and nothing will ever take you away from me again.”