Working in a dead-end, post office job in the heart of a primarily-Human city, Arya Salcrest cannot let her secret out else she loses her rights and her safety. Norren Sterling, a member of the Council whom she met after a failed museum trip, is det...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Linus Coppers slammed his clenched fist on the table, making Eliott flinch despite being a grown man. A livid glint made the adviser's amber eyes look almost scarlet.
"Consorting with heathens, defending them, and even threatening the villagers," the adviser seethed through the gap in his front teeth. Eliott couldn't bring himself to make fun of that now, though. The adviser's anger made it hard. "It's a miracle the King hasn't appeared in this room himself."
Eliott opened his mouth to reason out but what meager words left in his throat died off with a quiet hiss. Beside him, Sir Geoffer's pillar-like stance was ever so rigid. Unmoving. The affairs manager's shoulders were angled in such a way he could start ramming people out of the way should it come to fight.
"Fae are not heathens," Eliott narrowed his eyes at that pathetic choice of wording to describe a wonderful race with many hidden secrets. "And I defend them because they have done nothing wrong to deserve the treatment we give them."
Another adviser shot up. It was the one who was named Lucel Palvill. Her flat blond hair was the straightest of strands that Eliott has ever seen. "Nothing wrong, Your Grace?" she said, her tone full of apparent disbelief. "They killed hundreds of thousands of us during the war. Do your tutors not teach you that? They slaughtered us. Enslaved our race just because they're powerful. Just because they have magic. Why would you defend creatures like that?"
Eliott shook his head. "That's a long time ago," he said. "Maybe instead of oppressing them in order to protect ourselves, we could have tried to build a more positive relationship with them. Maybe we could have been the bigger people and prevented so much suffering over the years."
Linus's eyes flashed as his main sympathizer, Frances Atwood, took to his side. Eliott drove the point home even before any of them could make him feel small or poke holes into his argument. "If we are doing the same thing you claim they did to us so long ago, then we're no better than them," Eliott snarled. "We're savages through and through."
A chorus of protests rang from the advisers. Voices clattered, each one trying to talk over the other. Points both useless and circular filled the room. Linus raised a hand. Being the one who retained most of the influence among the court members, he was able to calm most of the advisers.
"Would you dare to utter such sacrilege in front of the King?" Adviser Linus challenged. "You just insulted your Empire, your own bloodline. Are you planning something behind the King's back? A coup? Treason? Did you finally let it slip?"
Eliott opened his mouth but Sir Geoffer spread his arm across him. Linus saw this and chuckled, no doubt enjoying the look of betrayal Eliott flashed the affairs manager not long after. "Listen to your secretary, Your Grace," Linus said, a triumphant look already plastered on his face. "Anything you say can and will be used against you, often in a different context than the one you meant. Words hold power, Crown Prince. They will either be your weapons or your destruction."
