Felicity raised her chin at the sound of her name, her swollen features conveying contempt and disrespect even after hours of the most punishing questioning the FIB could offer. Still that defiant spark flared in her eyes as if she really believed she were a true Fae. Like her defiance in the face of my might meant anything to me at all.
I skipped a lot of the waffling trite she’d published in her rag of a newspaper and cut to the pieces which would see her burn.
“The self proclaimed ‘most powerful man in Solaria’ has done little to claim his crown upon his own merits, instead, his use of the shadows and dark magic have been the true claimants to his power. Without the aid of these dark and twisted additions to his magic, he is in fact no more powerful than the rest of the Celestial Council and never will be. Worse still, the power he is wielding has been outlawed since long before he ever sat his unworthy ass upon the throne, and this alone should nullify his claim and see him sent to Darkmore Penitentiary to rot.” I looked up at her over the grossly provocative bullshit she’d published about me time and again, wondering how much longer it would take her to break.
The interrogation had turned up nothing of interest. So far as the FIB could tell, she didn’t know where the rebels were hiding, but I knew she had firm links to them. Her royalist drivel and repetitive sniffling over the treatment of her kind and that of the other traitorous Orders made it more than clear where her loyalties lay, and she would soon suffer the consequences of that devotion. But I had to admit I was a little surprised to see the defiance still burning in her eyes as she looked at me with disdain.
“The true queens will rise,” she hissed, her split lip spilling blood down her chin. “When they ascend fully into their power, they will come for you. They will tear their father’s crown from your brow and rip you from the throne, showing the whole of Solaria what a small man you truly are.”
I backhanded her so hard I damn near knocked her from her chair, the crack of breaking bone lighting the air as she fell dangling from the seat, only her bound hands holding her to it where it was bolted to the floor.
“Do it, Vard,” I growled, shoving myself upright so that I towered over her at my full height, letting her see how big this small man was. “And make it hurt.”
Vard’s smile widened as he leaned forward, reaching out to grab a handful of Felicity’s tawny hair and forcing her upright in her seat, making her meet his gaze as he shifted. I watched as his deep red shadow eye merged with his normal one, the swirling darkness within that bulbous orb making Felicity tremble as he forced her gaze to lock with his.
He dragged her into the depraved depths of his mind with a twisted smile on his scarred face and her screams filled the air as he began tearing each and every secret from the recesses of her brain. But as he scraped everything he could from her worthless head, leaving her mind scarred beyond repair, I knew she was going to offer me nothing. Which made her a waste of perfectly adequate oxygen.
I pushed Vard aside when I was done waiting, setting a fire at her feet which licked around the base of her chair and scalded her legs. Her head fell back as a cry of anguish left her and I smiled, rising up on a gust of air to make sure I was the only thing she could see.
“Do I look like a small man now?” I asked, leaning in close to taste her fear, coaxing the flames higher as they began to burn and char and consume.
She trembled violently as she held back another scream, but through the fear and pain in her eyes rose another wave of rebellion. “You are nothing but a parasite living in the house of the true queens. And when they kill you, long may they reign.”
I spat a snarl, raising my hand so my fire raised with it, and the wretched waif screamed her last screams as it ravaged her.
I kept my eyes on her, watching the skin melt from her bones and the pained sobs die in her throat as she was devoured in my fire, my gaze snagging on a locket which hung around her neck.
When she was nothing but ash and bone, I doused the flames and took hold of the golden chain, yanking hard enough to decapitate her charred head from her body and turning the locket over in my palm, claiming my new treasure. It was of high quality, but an arrangement of diamonds in the front of in the shape of a Pegasus marred it. I ran my thumb across it, melting the surface of the gold to dislodge the gems and letting them fall into my jacket pocket.
Then I cracked open the locket and found a photograph of a boy who I assumed was Felicity’s son; he was around the same age as my Heir with silver glitter in his brown hair.