Ileus: The Dark Prince

The messenger, a human soldier, was standing in the noble court in front of the king and queen who were sitting on the throne with lines etched on their foreheads. Surprisingly Seashell was also sitting beside Adrianna on the floor, watching the messenger intently. He let out a low growl at him and the messenger cringed. Haldir was standing right beside Dmitri with his hand on the pommel of his sword, looking so fierce that if it had been for him, he would have sent the messenger back in several pieces. Three courtiers also stood next to Haldir. 

Anastasia entered along with Ileus as others followed them. Placing a steadying hand on the small of her back, Ileus guided her inside the court. The court proceedings hadn't started since it was early morning. 

The messenger, a young man, was wearing a blue tunic. He bowed to them as soon as he saw them and his gaze settled at Anastasia. Her nervousness resurfaced. However, she didn't know why but her anxiety was mixed with a flavor of vengeance. Morning sun spilled through the tall windows across the rows of the empty armchairs. The space between the thrones and where everyone else sat was at least ten meters. 

Adrianna was wearing the crown and staring at the scroll that the messenger had given her. As soon as she saw Anastasia she said, "Come here and read this. It is from Etaya." Then her eyes traveled to the messenger who was still watching Anastasia and said, "She needs a reply now." 

With her fists clenched as hard as her teeth, Anastasia walked to the dais. She stopped in front of her. Adrianna handed her the scroll and then leaned back on the throne. 

With a breath lodged at the back of her throat, Anastasia turned the parchment to her side and started reading. 

"Dear Adrianna,

This is the last time I am giving you a chance to send Anastasia back. Hand her over to Vilinski and we will close this matter. Anastasia belongs to us and not to you. You have illegally kept her with you. If you do not send her back after seeing this message, the consequences are going to be your responsibility. Vilinski will attack Draoidh and I will ensure that your entire kingdom, the kingdom of your allies, is razed to the ground. 

Consider this as your last warning.

Sincerely,

Etaya"

Anastasia was shaking with anger by the time she finished reading. "Should I write a reply, Mother?" she asked while looking at the messenger. 

"Sure," Adrianna replied calmly. 

A courtier gave her a parchment and a quill. She took it from him, wrote her reply on it and signed her name in the end. She rolled the parchment, sealed it with the royal seal and tied it with a red silk thread. She gave it to the messenger and while staring in his blue eyes, said, "Don't open it. It is against the rules. Give it to Etaya." 

The messenger's demeanor changed when he saw raw rage in her eyes. He bowed to her and without saying a word left. Haldir went after him. Once he was gone, Adrianna asked, "What was your reply?" 

Anastasia glared in the direction of the messenger. "My reply was simple—You don't have to wait for the consequences." Her wings rustled as if anticipating a war, as if ready for a war. 

Adrianna and Dmitri smiled at their daughter-in-law. 

---

For the next two days, Iona devoured the book but there wasn't much information about the daughter of the first demon king. On the third day, she went to the record keeper knowing fully well that the information would travel to Etaya faster than the air. After she had ventured into her room, Iona knew, could feel the eyes of her soldiers on her at all times. Not that she was concerned about safety, because it was they who were more concerned about theirs, but the spying irritated her. 

The record keeper, a man with shoulder length white hair and a neatly trimmed beard, looked up at her when she entered the foyer of the record keeping section in the west wing of the palace where most of the administrative block was built. 

"What are you looking for, young lady?" he asked with a benevolent smile. He rarely saw young boys or girls in his section. Most of the time it was courtiers who visited with long scrolls from the prisoners or soldiers who just returned with their tales about other species in the Lore or those who maintained records of child births and deaths in the fae kingdom. 

Iona approached him and said, "I was looking for very ancient records, Valdar." 

The man's eyebrows drew together. "How do you know my name?" 

"I asked the queen," she lied. She knew his name from the book History of Fae. Valdar was an old, very old man, some two thousand years old and was with the father of King Ian. 

"And you are?" he asked, bewildered that a girl so young knew the queen. 

Ah, Iona knew how to make entries. A Diumbe peeks out of her gray tunic from the back and slithered on her shoulder. "The dark witch," she said in a low voice, dipping her chin a little for the added effect. 

Valdar flinched. Sweat appeared on his brows and his eyes flew wide open. He visibly shook. "If you can tell me which section you are exactly looking for, I will escort you there." 

"The first fae king," she replied as she looked at her long nails of left hand and brushed them with her thumb. 

"Faelar Aramaer!" he asked, his voice an octave higher. Not many asked about him. "Those records are buried deep inside. They are thousands of years old," he said. "But we have protected them with special magic." He came out of the stone counter behind which he was sitting. "Come." 

Iona followed him through the record keeping section—a large, dingy hall that had shelves arranged neatly in corridors. Men and women were stacking the records neatly on them. Despite being a typical record room, there was a speck of dust to be seen anywhere. Valdar was doing a fine job at maintaining it. 

He took her through the last corridor on the right. Iona noticed that there were tables and armchairs in between the corridors for those who wanted to read here. The place was… cold. There was not a single hearth burning, which was logical because a fire accident would damage the precious records. 

They walked till the end. Valdar pointed to the last shelf, which had a glass door. "This one has all the records about the first fae. But be careful with them. Even though they are guarded with magic spells, the papers have worn too thin. Our record keepers are still trying to copy these records on new parchments." He traced symbols on the shelf using chalk and the shelf opened. 

"I will," she replied. 

When Valdar left her, he had one thing in mind—to inform Etaya about her. By the time he reached his usual place to sit, he had forgotten about Iona. Only an irritating itch was there in his mind that he was forgetting something.