Emperor Of The Abyss

Chapter 4

Kane's boots made soft sounds against the polished marble as he walked through the palace corridors. The late afternoon light streamed through the tall windows, throwing long shadows across the floor. He'd left Valerie with her ladies and now he just wanted to clean up before dinner.

"Your Highness!" 

A guard stationed near the eastern hallway straightened up and gave a crisp salute.

Kane smiled and nodded.

 "Marcus. How's your daughter? I heard she was sick last week."

The guard's weathered face broke into a surprised grin. 

"She's much better now, Your Highness. Thank you for asking."

"Good to hear it."

 Kane clapped the man's shoulder as he passed.

Two more guards stood at the base of the main staircase. They both bowed.

 "Your Highness."

"Evening, gentlemen." 

Kane said, returning their greeting with that same easy smile.

As he started up the stairs, a maid hurried past carrying fresh linens. She nearly dropped them when she saw him.

 "Oh! Your Highness!" 

She dipped into a hasty curtsy, her arms full of white sheets.

"Careful there." 

Kane said, reaching out to steady the top of her pile before it could topple.

 "Don't want you breaking your neck on my account."

The maid blushed pink.

 "Thank you, Your Highness. Congratulations on tomorrow."

"Thank you. That means a lot."

The head cook, a stout woman named Meredith who'd been in the palace since Kane was a boy, appeared at the top of the stairs. She had flour on her apron and a smudge of something dark on her cheek.

 "Your Highness." 

She said, wiping her hands.

 "Should I have your dinner sent up to your chambers? Or will you be eating in the dining hall tonight?"

Kane paused on the stairs.

 "I'll come down in a bit, Meredith. I just need to wash up first. You can have it ready in the dining hall."

"Of course, Your Highness." 

She bowed, deeper than her old knees probably liked.

 "I've prepared your favorite. Roasted duck with those honey carrots you like."

"You're too good to me."

 Kane said warmly.

Meredith's wrinkled face crinkled into a smile. 

"It's a special night. Tomorrow you'll be king." 

She said it with such pride that Kane felt his throat tighten.

"Thank you, Meredith. Really."

She bowed again and headed back toward the kitchens, muttering about checking on the bread.

Kane continued up the stairs, but as he reached the second-floor landing, he heard voices drifting from the hallway below. He recognized them as some of the younger maids, probably taking a moment to rest between tasks.

"He's in such a good mood today." 

One of them said.

"Who wouldn't be?" 

Another replied. "Tomorrow's his coronation. He's finally going to be king."

"I'm happy for him." 

A third voice chimed in, softer than the others. 

"He deserves it. After everything he's been through."

"Yeah, me too. I just wish..."

 The voice trailed off.

"What?"

"I wish his father and mother were still alive to see it. Can you imagine? They'd be so proud."

There was a pause. Then a different voice, quieter and more careful: 

"Do you think he's anything like his mother? You know... like they say?"

Kane froze on the stairs. His hand gripped the banister.

"No!" 

The response came quick and firm.

 "Look at him. I've been working here for three years. Have you ever seen anything weird about him? Anything... wrong?"

"No." 

The others agreed. 

"Nothing."

"Exactly. He's just... normal. Nice, even. Nicer than most nobles I've served."

"I'm so happy for him." 

The soft-voiced one said again.

 "He's going to be a good king."

Kane let out a slow breath and continued up the stairs. Their words settled over him like a blanket,warm but also heavy. They were happy for him. They believed in him. But that question... ‘Do you think he's anything like his mother?’

It never really went away, did it? No matter how many years passed, no matter how many times he proved himself, there would always be that doubt. That fear. That wondering.

He reached the third floor where his chambers were located, but his feet carried him past his own door. He stopped in front of another door, one he'd stood in front of countless times over the years but rarely entered.

His parents' room.

The wood was dark oak, carved with the royal crest. Kane stared at it for a long moment, his hand hovering over the handle. He always felt strange coming in here. Like he was trespassing. Like he didn't quite belong.

But tomorrow he'd be king. Tomorrow he'd carry on their legacy,his father's legacy, at least. Didn't that earn him the right to be here?

He pushed the door open.

The room was exactly as it had been the day his father died. Morgana had ordered it sealed, preserved, she'd said, as a memorial. The heavy curtains were drawn, leaving the space dim and shadowy. Dust motes drifted in the thin beam of light that snuck through where the curtains didn't quite meet.

Kane stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. The air smelled stale and old, like a tomb.

The bed dominated the room,a massive four-poster thing with deep blue curtains tied back with gold cord. His father had died in that bed. Throat cut. Blood everywhere. The sheets had been changed, of course, but Kane could still see it in his mind. The stories had been told and retold so many times that he felt like he'd been there, even though he'd only been weeks old.

He moved through the room slowly, trailing his fingers along the furniture. His father's writing desk sat in one corner, papers still stacked on it as if Aric might return any moment to finish his work. A wardrobe stood against the far wall, doors closed, hiding clothes that would never be worn again.

On the bedside table, there was a frame. Kane picked it up carefully, blowing off a layer of dust.

The painting was

small but detailed. His parents on their wedding day. His father stood tall and proud in his ceremonial armor, crown already on his head since he'd been king for two years by then. And beside him, her hand in his, was Seraphine…