Chapter 53: King Augustus Malik Part Five
The King lets silence drag once again. The echo of the Legion's chant still lingers in the marble, vibrating in my bones, but he waits. Watches. Glances across the room with cold, dispassionate eyes. When he finally speaks again, his voice is calm too calm and it cuts through the hush like a whip.
"Awakened Daath," he says, and the way my name rolls off his tongue is... wrong. Possessive. Like it already belongs to him. "You have garnered much debate in my court. Three marks, where others are grateful for one. A rare phenomenon. An interesting one"
There's no warmth in his tone, only a quiet fascination stretched thin over something darker. A hunger, maybe. He lifts one hand just slightly, as if guiding a string I can't see. "Step forward," he says.
I obey before I even register the command. My boots click against the polished marble slightly muffled by the carpet as I move. I can feel every gaze latch onto me. Adrian's posture is stiffer than usual, his sister too still. The four overdressed ugly noble women are silent now, their nervous energy prickling in the air around them like static.
He leans back in his throne, gold eyes narrowing. "Remove your robe. And your shirt. Let us see these marks with our own eyes."
The command isn't cruel. It's worse it's casual. Like I'm a specimen being unveiled for study.
I hesitate for a breath cursing his life in every vile way I can think of. Then, without a word, I reach up and pull the clasp of my robe free. It slides off my shoulders in silence. My shirt follows, the cool air of the throne room biting against my skin. I glance down briefly, letting my hand brush the edge of my sternum, before looking up again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the princess watching me her lips press into a line, and her eyes rake over my body like she regrets looking but can't stop. The prince stands beside her, his jaw tense. He doesn't look at me in the same way. His stare is direct, weighing me, and there's something close to begrudging respect in it.
I exhale slowly and begin, voice steady despite the silence around me.
"Over my heart," I say, touching the mark etched into my skin, "a Möbius strip. It represents the Veilshaper. I can craft illusions so real they bend perception. To those caught in it, the lie becomes their truth."
I shift slightly, letting the light catch the next mark. "Here, on my ribs, a wolf. The Fearmonger. I can sense what someone fears most. The sins and fears they hide even from themselves the kind of fear that never lets go."