All of the royal family that remained in the capital were summoned for lunch. This unfortunately includes his mother. Not even Finious, the boy that hatched from her egg, can stand to be around her for extended periods of time. “Stop moving and let me fix your hair, child!” He scowls as his mother takes a hold of the back of his neck.

Her gloved hand fusses about with the mop of hair sitting distastefully on the top of his head. Gods help him. If his mother isn’t the most smothering creature on the planet, he doesn’t know what is. “I don’t know how you can even stand to look at yourself sometimes. It’s like you don’t even try.” She shakes her head, the bell chimes adorning her pinned curls jingling.

Not only is she the most smothering of all the creatures in the world, but she’s also the most exuberant. Her gowns are always brightly dyed, and her orange hair is never flat. Minoa is the perfect picture of a pedantic capital Lady. That’s probably what caught King Karmic’s eye.

Wait, no. Finious is sure it was seeing her kill someone during the Ithibals that turned the king on. She had drowned a peasant with the liquid pulled from his own body. Finious can’t recall how many times she’s told him that story. When she spoke of how their eyes met through the veil of the arena, she would always get this dazed expression. After she finishes messing up his hair, she turns her attention to the other occupants of the table.

“Melody, hun, how have you been? I haven’t heard from you since last week’s luncheon.” The King’s consorts gather on a weekly basis. What they get up to, Finious isn’t aware. What more could they have to talk about outside of Karmic and his bedroom activities?

It isn’t as if any of them really have lives outside of the king. Melody, Baron’s mother, opens her eyes. She regards Minoa quickly before her lids fall to rest again. You’ll often find the woman practicing meditation within random parts of the manor. “I’m not sure what it is that you think I’ve taken from you, but I can assure you I haven’t.” She holds up a finger before Minoa can speak again. “I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve been recharging. It takes a lot of energy to be around you. Try Loi. You know she has sticky fingers.”

Minoa’s face transforms for just a fraction of a second, the water in her glass vibrating at the sharp burst of emotion. But she’s composed before anyone other than her son can notice. Her volatile temper mixed with King Karmic’s lack of regard for most forms of life has to be the core reason for why Finious is the way he is.

His jaw clenches. His mother’s attention turns back to him just as the doors to the dining room bursts open. The king strolls in, a dainty cup of tea already locked within his hands. “Afternoon, Ladies.” He greets his two remaining royal consorts as everyone stands from their seats.

Minoa’s smile grows, bright and genuine. Finious will never understand the love his mother has for his father. He used her for an heir and didn’t even have the decency to make her his queen. It wasn’t as if the position wasn’t open. And it’s been over twenty years since. What reason could he have for not promoting her? For keeping her as his plaything to call on whenever he feels his bed is too big for one person?

He sickens at the thought. At the implication that his mother isn’t good enough for his royal majesty. Minoa’s voice has thickened, “Greeting his royal majesty, King Rinafi the third,” She recites with her counterpart. He takes his seat at the head of the table before motioning for them to follow his lead.

Baron and Finious remain standing. “Boys, I have news for you both. Sit and receive it before eating.” He motions with one finger to the guard that stands posted at the dining room entrance. His sons sit, both of their backs stiffer than they had been moments before.

Finious waits, anxiety pooling in his gut. News from their father is rarely a good thing. In fact, the last time he can remember getting fairly good news was when he completed his trainings. That was five years ago. King Karmic takes one more sip from his teacup before turning his attention to his youngest son. “You’ve been finished with your basic training for a year now, and we spoke of what was to happen should I see no more work on your end.”

Melody’s eyes which had closed after she sat down, fly open. Baron opens his mouth, as if to respond, but Karmic isn’t finished speaking. “You turn twenty in a month. Not only are your physical skills subpar, but you’re an empath.” The implication is clear. While empaths are typically seen as wonderful politicians, you don’t find them in many other disciples. They’re seen as useless outside of government positions.

And because there is no way King Karmic can trust wimpy and useless Baron with a political position, he will have to find something else for him to do. “Your time is up. I’ve enlisted you in the fifth regimen. Once the capital reopens, you’ll need to leave.” A sound leaves his mother, her hand clutching at the fabric of her collar.

“Your majesty, please, I beg of you to reconsider!” She stands from her seat, the feet of her chair scrapping painfully against the ground. Baron has frozen, his mouth slightly agape. Gods, even Finious is surprised.

Royal children are always enlisted into the military. For the Rinafi children, it has always happened just after they’ve turned twenty. But for King Karmic to enlist Baron into the fifth regimen… It’s a death sentence. Baron won’t survive.

They’re the ones currently employed to fight against the Zagran’s, the troops that have been pushed back from Onq. From what Finious has heard, those that survived the ambush that shifted the tides of the battle have been so severely damaged that the crown is offering them an honorable discharge. Baron will be a part of the team that takes over their stations.

“Sit down, Melody. The papers have been signed and sealed.” Staff enter the dining room, plates on their hands.

Melody falls back two steps, likely feeling something in Finious’ father that no one else can. “Karmic, please. He’s my only child. You… You would…” He regards the food set in front of him.

“Have someone bring in a dish of sugar,” He orders the servant nearest to him. She bows. “Sit down Melody. Eat. I’ve had them make your favorite.” Finious looks down to find tender venison covered in a red sauce with a side of garlic bread and a garden salad.

He feels his mother squeeze his thigh, and looking to her, Finious finds that her expression isn’t the usual one she wears when she observes someone else’s misery. Instead, she looks unbelievably tense. His brows furrow. Is there more to this than what he can see?

Fin watches as Melody pulls herself together. Her back straightens, her expression flattens, and her hands go clasped in front of her. With a bent head, she says, “I ask to be excused from this lunch, my king. I feel I am too emotional to be proper in front of you.” Karmic sighs, as if he was just asked a duplicate question by the press.

He waves his hand, shooing her, then he turns his attention to his first son. “Someone needs to question Trilana. Normally that would fall to Karma, but as we can all tell, from the lack of composure in the room, your sister is not present. Do it at your earliest convenience. I need answers by the end of the week. Do whatever needs to be done to get them.” Now this is truly surprising.

Finious knows how to hurt people. How to kill people. He knows how to intimidate them and incapacitate them. But he doesn’t know how to extract information from them, before they die. That requires a level of intricacy that he will admit, only his older sister possesses. He swallows, ready to say he can’t do it, but the grip on his thigh stops him.

He looks to his mother, and her head shakes just the tiniest bit.

His eyes follow her own, which stare at his father.

And that’s when the final emotion that’s always present within him, rears its ugly head. Fear claims his heart as his eyes lock with his father’s. This is not something he has a choice in. Finious nods, his heart beating a hole in his chest. “Yes sire. I’ll see to it.”

“Great. Let us all begin eating.”