Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

The Supreme Court - Raven

The lift doors parted, revealing the opulent halls of the Court's guest wing stretching before me. Warm teak and rich burgundy dotted with polished brass dominated, yet I saw only a cage - a very pretty, gilded cage, but a prison nonetheless.

I hesitated, unable to force myself forward as the doors began to close. Sure, I had some happy memories of this place, but they were ancient history I couldn't call to mind. Now I only felt sick, icy dread crawling up and down my spine and wrapping around my stomach as I feared the reception I'd receive.

Raaf's hand landed firmly on my shoulder and squeezed. Its presence steadying me, giving me the strength I needed to step out into the crowded vestibule. It wasn’t usually this busy up here unless some event or the other was on… this was going to suck balls.

It didn't take long for my presence to be noticed; after all, it's hard to hide when you're surrounded by a security detail. The crowd fell silent around me, but it didn't take long for the whispered comments and sideways glances to start.

I gritted my teeth, the familiar frustration bitter on my tongue, a perfect reminder of why I'd gone my own way in the first place.
The urge to snap back, to let loose a barrage of cutting remarks, was almost overwhelming but I swallowed it down. They all knew of Peredur's lies by now, and that I'd finally been exonerated, yet they just didn't care. Even with the way he'd died, he would always be the golden boy in their eyes, and I'd never be more than the worthless null that brought him down.

Well, fuck the lot of them, I thought, I had bigger problems to deal with… I lifted my head and marched forward with a purpose.

We reached my quarters after a too-long short walk, a luxurious suite like all the others on this floor, but a place I would no longer call home.

The door, a massive slab of oak inlaid with silver runes, swung open silently at my touch. Raaf held up a hand, his calloused palm catching the light as he signalled me to wait, waving two of the sentinels forward to check the reception area and confirm it was free of unexpected guests and any unpleasant surprises.

I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Really? In the heart of the Court?"

He grunted, unamused. "Protocol, Raven. You know that."

Fair enough, having your principal die from laziness or stupidity would look bad on the CV, but really? This place was a literal fortress, and security wasn't limited to the cameras, guards and the wards that visibly blanketed the whole area - it was simply inconceivable that anyone with ill intent could make it this far into the Court.

Not without a tactical nuclear warhead, that is, and I doubted a couple of meat sacks would be of much use if people were throwing those around.

Once he was satisfied that a spell-wielding ninja death squad wasn’t lurking in the shadows, and I was actually allowed entry to my cell, I was greeted by a maid… my maid, I guessed, stood in the lounge, all smiles, even if her body screamed her insincerity as she dropped into a perfunctory curtsey.

"Welcome home m'lady, if you'll follow me-"

"It's Raven," I cut in, not bothering to argue the home part. "Not 'm'lady', not 'miss', just Raven."

The maid exchanged an unimpressed look with Raaf, her lips pursing in barely concealed disapproval. "As you wish... ma’am." she adjusted, the pause speaking volumes as she shooed Raaf away and guided me towards the bed chamber.

One look at the bed and I knew I was going to have a fight on my hands. Laid out with painstaking precision was a traditional ensemble that would have made Marie Antoinette blush. The gown was a riot of midnight blue silk and silver embroidery, its bodice adorned with countless tiny gemstones that winked in the soft light. Beside it lay a corset that looked like it could double as medieval armour, all whalebone and unyielding structure.

I groaned inwardly as the maid approached with a gleam in her eye that spoke of hours of primping and preening ahead. "Oh hell no," I muttered, backing away.

The maid's expression soured, her lips pursing into a thin line of disapproval. "But m'la- Raven," she corrected herself with visible effort, "it's expected. The Seneschal-"

"The Seneschal can kiss my ass," I snapped, my patience evaporating, "it’s bad enough that I’m being forced to stay here, I'm not getting dressed up like some fucking doll!"

I stalked over to the wardrobe, yanking it open with perhaps more force than necessary. After a moment rummaging, I emerged smiling with a simple black dress and a pair of flats. I would have preferred jeans and a nice blouse but, as I held the dress up in front of the mirror, I couldn’t help but admire how it managed to strike a perfect balance between elegance and practicality - the sleek lines and subtle drape of the fabric would allow me to move freely, if needed, while still looking polished enough to avoid outright scandal in the Court.

The maid looked like she might faint, her face a mask of horror as if I'd suggested attending Court in my birthday suit, but I stood my ground, meeting her glare with a steely one of my own.

After a long moment, she relented with a defeated sigh. "As you wish... m’lady."

I knew getting her to use my name was a long shot but bitchy much? I was sure she’d rather be calling me something far less polite too, not that I could bring myself to care… what was one more thing for them to lord over me?

***

All too soon, I found myself before the ornate doors of the Seneschal's office. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside.

It’s often said that a man’s office can tell you a lot about the character of that man. His office was deep within the Court’s west wing the only light coming from a pair of flickering witch lights, the panelled walls were unadorned save for a single shelf which held only one leather bound tome. The only extravagance, if you could call it that, was the leather clad executive chair in which he sat, secure behind a massive oak desk from which he held court over his domain.

Unusually, for a modern office, not a single electronic device was in sight. What little marred the desk’s scarred surface was placed precisely, within the marks etched with that very purpose in mind. A fountain pen and elegant journal lay before him perfectly poised, ready for use the moment he felt the need to add his thoughts to those of the men who’d preceded him.

Yes, with a single glance, anyone would assume that this was the office of a boring, suit wearing middle manager… and ordinarily, they’d probably be right. Here, they’d be lucky to live long enough to realise their mistake.

Every inch the very picture of authority, the Seneschal's eyes, hard and cold, swept over me, cataloguing my faults. His eyes briefly met Raaf’s in acknowledgement before fixing back on me with clear impatience.

"And what,” he asked, lip curling in disdain, “pray tell was wrong with the clothes I had set out for you?".

"I’m not a doll for you to dress up,” I bit back, "I can pick my own clothes… couldn’t find anything with prison stripes though…"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as the Seneschal rose slowly from his chair, his movements deliberate and predatory.

"Your insolence knows no bounds, does it, Raven?” he loomed over me, eyes flashing amber in clear warning. “You stand here, in the heart of the Court, flaunting your disrespect like a badge of honour."

I held my ground, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "Respect is earned," I said, my voice mostly steady despite the rapid beating of my heart. "I’m not one of your wolves so, if you're gonna treat me like a child, don't be surprised when I act like one."

To emphasise my point, I plopped down in the chair across from him, swinging my legs back and forth before continuing in a little girl’s sing-song tone.

"So, what story are we going to hear today? The one about the big bad wolf who thought he could control everyone and everything?"
A tense silence stretched between us. I should have taken Raaf’s sharp intake of breath as a warning, but I couldn’t help myself - the old bastard’s attitude was only making my foul mood worse.

The air between us crackled with his barely contained fury, his hands twitched and, for a moment, I thought he might lose it and shift right there... or, maybe, he’d just slap the grin right off my face.

Instead, he surprised me, backing off and letting out a bark of laughter. “OK, Raven,” he said, a feral grin spreading across his face as he settled back behind his desk. “Yes, let’s talk about the wolf who controlled everything…”

***

"Dad's getting married?" I asked, stuttering like a moron. That couldn’t be right, surely... I counted months on my fingers as the Seneschal continued speaking, only the odd word registering through my shock.

OK yes, it had been over a year since mother dearest had died, so he was out of the mourning period but... wait, what? Honeymoon? How long? He couldn't leave the Court, not now, not with everything that was going on...

“He can’t,” I blurted out, thinking of Lily, “he needs to stay here, umm, run the Court…”

The words were barely past my lips before the Seneschal's smug voice cut through my rambling. "Trust me," he said, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction, “that’s well in hand.”

My stomach dropped. “You, in charge of the Court?” I spat out, even if it were only temporary, I couldn’t imagine how miserable my life was going to be under his stewardship. "You’ve got to be kidding me!"

The Seneschal's lips curled into a mirthless smile. "Oh, I assure you, I kid you not…. Who better to hold the reins in your father’s absence?"

I’d heard enough, I had to say something to wipe that smug look off his face, “He can’t leave now,” I threw out, “the victim, it was Lily, our Lily…”

The silence that followed was deafening. The Seneschal's face froze in an expression of shock. But, before he could conjure up a response a new voice, familiar and absolutely arctic, sliced through the room.

"What did you say?"

My blood ran cold as I slowly turned to face the doorway. There, his face a storm of confusion and rage, stood my father. The words I'd thrown out had hit like a grenade, and we’d all been caught in the blast.