The feast was grand. Obscenely so.
Roasted beasts glazed with honey and herbs we couldn't name. Goblets filled with something gold and bubbling. Sweet breads dusted with shimmering sugar that looked more like powdered crystal.
And yet…
I could barely eat.
Because the king was watching us. Smiling.
Always smiling.
He didn't blink. Not once. His face sat still—too still. Like a painting that refused to move, except for the corners of his mouth, curled up in that fixed, perfect crescent.
"So," King Althus said, voice slick like oil on silk. "Tell me… what is it like to command the very will of men, young Ardent?"
I paused mid-chew.
"I—I try not to," I said carefully.
"Ah, humility. Rare in kings. Rarer still in gods."
The air thinned.
Aelira stiffened beside me. Lucen hadn't touched his food. He was staring straight at the king like a puzzle he almost solved but couldn't yet explain.
Then came the next question.
"Do you sleep well, Riku?" the king asked, still smiling. "Even after the forest?"
My fork clinked against my plate.
That wasn't public knowledge.
No one should know about that. Not unless they were there—or unless something else was watching.
I opened my mouth, but Lucen cut in.
"Your Majesty," he said, standing up suddenly. "If it pleases you, I need to borrow my companions for a moment. Urgently."
The king didn't blink.
"Restroom emergency," Lucen added, deadpan.
Riku and I blinked at him.
"I'm not—"
He grabbed both of us by the arms and marched us toward the back corridor.
"Lucen, what the hell—"
"No talking until we're out of earshot," he hissed.
---
We stopped inside an absurdly luxurious marble restroom. There were mirrors with golden frames, sinks that flowed like miniature waterfalls, and the scent of lavender and something vaguely magical.
Lucen finally turned to us, serious.
"That isn't the king."
Aelira narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean? A changeling?"
"No," Lucen said. "Worse. It is the king. But something's riding him. Twisting him. I've been to Valebrook before. Years ago. That man… doesn't act like this."
I crossed my arms, mind racing. "He knows things. Things he shouldn't."
Lucen nodded. "And did you see his eyes? The shimmer? That's not magic—it's masking. Something inside is wearing his body like a skin."
Aelira leaned back against the sink. "Possession?"
Lucen shook his head. "No. Not demonic. Not divine. Something in-between. Like an echo wearing flesh."
My stomach twisted. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"Because we're in his castle, under his roof, surrounded by his knights," Lucen said. "And because if he is what I think he is… we're not just dealing with a corrupted king."
"…We're dealing with someone who knows about placed powers," Aelira finished quietly.
The room fell silent.
Then, from somewhere back in the banquet hall, we heard the sound of soft, mechanical laughter.
The king was still smiling.
And I was starting to wonder…
What exactly had invited us here?
---
[To be continued…]