Every wig adorned, bejeweled, powdered and crowned head swiveled towards the main staircase. Large, shocked eyes locked onto the figure at the very top. He stood perfectly still, expressionless accept for a faint cruel sparkle in his icy blue eyes. He waited patiently for every person to inspect him thoroughly, satisfied that they had been shocked by his sudden entrance.
Malic was a tall young man, a bit on the thin side. But his shoulders were broad and masculine enough to put him in the realm of attractive. His hair brushed the tails of his formal jacket and cascaded around his shoulders in pale blond sheets. Usually tied back, it was left lose for the formal occasion. The goggling faces disapproved of his old world fashion because it was part of the traditions upheld by his family.
�The Titans.� Hundreds of voices whispered the fallen name. Malic�s father, Horris Titan, was in prison. He was locked deep in the bowels of this very castle.
Voices continued to whisper to those who did not know, the story of Horris� disgrace.
Malic chose to ignore them and lifted his chin. Slowly he descended each step with all the grace and dignity he could fathom. Each step required more and more self-control. Inside he was a boiling pit of pure, ugly anger. These people were the criminals who had destroyed his name and imprisoned his father.
The royal court of the First Kingdom�s thrown.
He hated them, everyone. But he held his emotion in check and calmly strode to the podium at the climax of the ballroom. Upon a gilded thrown sat his Royal Highness of the First Kingdom.
The enemy.
Valdor Orion.
With swift, curt bow Malic dropped to on knee at the foot of the raised stage. The King was an older man, well into his sixties. But he was still strong and healthy and was not easily manipulated. He believed solidly in the greatness of the First Kingdom. He had led many men to their deaths to maintain it.
�What are you here for Titan?� His voiced dripped venom. Malic considered taunting him but remembered his purpose and pushed the enticing thought aside.
�Your majesty. I have come, humbly, to your court to request your aid.� He was proud of himself for his civilized tone.
The king snorted noisily. �What would I possibly want to do for you?�
Malic bowed his head lower. �I beg your forgivness for my father�s crimes and plead that you will not look upon me with tainted eyes, my lord.�
There was silence. Malic hoped he had surprised the king with his groveling. He better have. He suppressed a snarl.
�Continue.�
�King Valdor. For some time I have suffered my father�s sentence along side him, chosing to live a simple cold existence.� Blatant lie, you hound dog. �But I fear for my people, my liege. They are without a Lord and I have received news of cause among my father�s shires.�
Valdor interrupter. �And you want to sit in your father�s place until the tribunal passes judgment on him hmm?� He sounded so satisfied with himself for insinuating that obvious answer.
�No my King.� He bowed even deeper. He heard the court behind him arrupt in whispers again, they grew in volume until the King�s troubadour demanded silence with a hearty and convicting shout.
�Then what do you with me to do?�
Malic paused a moment holding his breathe for effect. He was playing them all like a symphony orchestra. A sly smile curved his lips. They were in the palm of his hand. �Sire. I pray you will seat someone wiser and elder then I in my fathers place. Our humble fife needs the direction of a wise sage. Perhaps one of your tribunal members?� He asked the question knowing the answer.
�No. The tribunal have their own worries to attend to. They do not need the burden of your family lands to add to their minds. Perhaps you would accept the wise direction of one of my personal advisors?� The king thought he was helping himself with this offer. Place one of his own in his adversary�s fortress and eliminate another threat to his rule.
�I am deeply joyful and grateful. You are wise and generous my King. How kind of you to sacrifice one of your own for my people�s prosperity.� He kept his head bowed to him his look of complete triumph.
�Yes, Elder Raftel will sit in your father�s place until his future is determined.� He sounded pleased with himself, bloated.
�Thank you your majesty.� Malic straightened his face and rose to his feet.
The King stood with him and took his mistresses hand absently. �You will stay and enjoy the festivities? I�m would be pleased to have you.� He didn�t sound sincere.
�You are kind, my lord. I accept.�
Malic pivoted and flashed a handsome, predatory smile at the court.
The fiery gazes were so intense that Quivern thought they should have been burning holes through the Shyra�s armor. But the warrior at his side met their stares with one of her own. He wasn�t sure who was more dangerous then who so he elected to remain silent.
The most imposing of the three women stepped forward and smiled gently at the Shyra. The tension melted away. He was surprised to see the Shyra meet the older woman in an embrace that seemed to give both of them genuine comfort.
�I felt the disturbance in your heart, Silu. I knew something had happened and we were close enough to come to your aid.� She gently held the Shyra�s face between her hands and looked directly into her eyes.
They stood there like that for some time. It gave Quivern the opportunity to think.
The two other women were standing back. They had no expressions but he got the distinct impression that they did not feel the same concern for �who was she? It was obvious now that these other women were sisters of the Tan U Tae as well. His Shyra, though, was different from them. He wasn�t sure just what made her different but he could not deny that she was special.
What was it she has been called? �Silu?�
She immediately looked up as if called. Right afterwards she looked away breaking the hold the older Shyra had on her.
�Wan-ri, this is Quivern. He is Duke and Lady MacKain�s only son.� She all at once looked very vulnerable. The other Shyra, especially Wan-ri, had authority over her. She looked ashamed of herself in their presence. He wanted to get her away from them.
