“I’m afraid I have devastating news, my Lady.” Quincy turned toward Airron and wiggled his nose in distaste. “My Lord.”
“Out with it, man. What's happened?” Airron asked, planting his feet and crossing his arms at his chest.
One of the soldiers behind Quincy stepped forward. “King Thorn is dead, Lord Falewir. Murdered in his private gardens this morning.”
Melania let out a squeal of disbelief.
He nodded. "The Gladewatcher on duty claims a sorcerer appeared out of nowhere and attacked them in the gardens. The Mage tangled him up with a spell and then killed the King. A few moments after the assassin left, the spell dissipated, but it was too late.”
“A Mage?" Airron mused out loud, running a hand through his long, white hair. "That’s impossible. Beck assured me that the Dagarmon are marked.”
“Can we believe him?” Melania asked quietly.
His gaze snapped to hers. “Of course, we can believe him! I’ve known Beck since we were children. He’s like a brother to me, Melania, as you very well know. Come now, the bloody man carried me across his back for leagues once to save my life!”
“That was many years ago.”
Violet eyes narrowed to slits. “What are you suggesting?”
“I am just pointing out that people change, Airron. Certainly, you don’t expect Beck to be the same as he was back then just as you are not the same man you once were.”
Airron rubbed his jaw. Her point would be well taken if they were talking about any other man. But, this was Beck Atlan. “If Beck says the Dagarmon are marked, then they are marked. Regardless,” he said moving toward the door, “this unconscionable act must be taken up with the Council of Kings. We cannot—.” He stopped suddenly as the implication of King Thorn’s death sank in. “Wait, if Thorn…that means…”
“Yes,” Quincy muttered dryly and dropped to one knee, “you are now the King of Haventhal. Dear Highworld, help us all.”