The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 64: Piece of Advice

Andon

What could possibly be wrong with Yeren? He had feared the coming of the blood moon would bring back things better left buried.

His feet couldn’t carry him to the King’s chambers fast enough.

Not himself? How bad could it have gotten in such a short time? Hadn’t he just spoken to the King not long ago?

He was on the verge of breaking into a run when he arrived at the landing.

Andon could spy the guards standing securely at the stations by the door.

They parted when they saw him, opening the door at once.

The room was still in perfect order - which was a good sign.

"Your Grace?" He stopped at the threshold, hesitant to move any further.

There was no response.

His first instinct was to glance at the window - it was open, but he doubted the King would have jumped out of it. The fall was a very long one - even for a powerful Lycan.

"Your Grace?" He tried again.

A low cough sounded through the room.

His head snapped in that direction.

"I need to drink something..." The voice was hoarse, cracked, but not weak.

It bordered on being violent.

"Wine?" He asked sheepishly, already heading for the decanter.

Andon poured a goblet of wine and picked it up.

His eyes scanned the room before falling on Yeren. He was seated on his chair by the wall, his head deep low as if in thought.

When Yeren looked up, his eyes were shimmering... and golden yellow.

"Would wine help?" Andon’s voice quivered as he asked.

Yeren just held his hand out to retrieve the goblet from him.

"Thank you." Came the hoarse voice again.

Andon wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead.

He watched Yeren’s throat bob as he took a long swig of the cool drink.

"What should I tell the others?"

Yeren wiped his lips with the back of his hands.

"Nothing. Tell them I’m indisposed."

"But won’t the council inquire-"

"Tell them nothing!"

Andon backed away slightly.

Yeren’s chest heaved with each breath he took. He looked like battling with the gods themselves.

"Should I bring the chains?"

Yeren slowly looked up. "I have no need of it... yet. I’ve already instructed the guards when to bring them."

"Would you be needing anything, Your Grace?"

A brief shake of his head was Yeren’s only response.

Andon felt dismissed. He nodded once, stepping back until he spun around and headed for the door.

Seeing his King like that made him want to pull out his sword and do terrible damage.

But unfortunately, the situation was completely out of his control... or anybody’s control for that matter.

The guards parted for him to leave.

He rubbed his eyes, staring at the floor as he walked.

When he reached the end of the stairs, he stood there and stared at the ceiling covered with mosaics of Reden’s history.

The flight of stairs across him led to the other tower. The King’s so-called Cupbearer’s tower.

Before he could contemplate his next action, his feet were already taking him across the hall and up the endless stairway. Even for an agile wolf like himself, the stairs were a great chore.

He remembered with a faint smile that even Yeren complained of the stairs.

When he neared the landing, he could hear voices. Her voice was unmistakably one of them.

She was talking with a man. The King would love to hear about that, he mused with a grin.

And who else but her childhood lover? Claire saw him first, her eyes widening with shock, fear, filling up with questions, then worry all in one split second.

The man beside her, Zach, he was called, fumbled with a bow, mumbling some form of address that he thought was suitable for the King’s first man.

Andon acknowledged him with a curt nod. His gaze flicked to the pale woman beside him before dropping to their entangled hands.

Claire slowly pulled her hand away and smoothed it over her gown. Her cheeks stained deep pouches of crimson.

She was a pretty sight, he had to admit - not like the pretentious Ladies that usually graced the court. No wonder the King was besotted, he thought with a smirk.

"I believe your business with Miss Stenly has been concluded?" His voice was curt.

The young man blinked for a moment before stuttering an inaudible response.

"I intend to escort him to the castle’s entrance, if you will let us be on our way."

Andon pursed his lips, savouring the moment to but the daring woman in her place for once.

"I also believe you know the way to the castle’s entrance, young man. Or do you not?"

It was Zach’s turn to flush. Although it was clear he took offer from the way his jaw tensed.

"Yes, my Lord." He mumbled.

With one longing look at Claire, he left them alone.

Claire folded her arms across her chest and stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

When he did not, she took the lead. "How is the King?"

Andon arched a brow. "The King is perfectly well, only indisposed."

"I should serve wine, I assume." She said, narrowing her eyes.

His smirk turned into a one-sided grin. She clearly wasn’t fooled, was she.

"No wine for today. The King has requested that he should not be disturbed."

She stepped closer. "Tell me, was he poisoned? I won’t tell anyone. I just need to know, my Lord."

The urge to tell her was almost too strong to ignore.

"The King is well. That is not why I came here."

"Then why did you come here?"

"I came to offer you some advice."

"What advice would that be?"

"Stop blaming the King for the unfortunate events that befell your family."

"Unfortunate events." She laughed dryly. "Then, who should I blame? The gods?"

His jaw tensed.

Her nerve...

"Blame fate, just not him. Bad things happen to good people... and the law wasn’t on your family’s side, Miss Stenly."

Her eyes hardened.

"Are you here to tell me that the King didn’t give the order that everything be taken away from me?"

He inched closer until their faces were breaths away.

"I’m here to tell you that he feels guilty enough."