The gathering consisted of me, Rick, Henry, and Martha. It didn't concern anyone else. They still lived here, they were my family, but it was those three who were there in the beginning, with my mother.

Princess Michelle. My mother. Mom.

I was so sorry that she had died, but alas. Any woman would die after giving birth to a half-demon—it's the law. We take too much of their strength, not leaving anything left to continue living. It wouldn't happen with a quarter-demon, the mother would live, but all half-demons were orphans. There were some exceptions, of course—incubi, vampires, all that riff-raff, but they weren't true demons, just low-level rabble. Michelle would never have chosen one of them as my father. No, she picked the strongest one. No matter how her friends tried to talk her out of that, she gave it her all. They knew Michelle's wish and funneled all their energy into her plan.

Rick was the one to speak up. "Alex, you are to visit the court in a year."

I nodded. That's what I loved about Rick; he never beat around the bush, he was always blunt. He had been so tired of pussyfooting around while serving his duke that he pulled no punches after leaving him.

"You need to decide what you want."

What did I want? To become a stronger necromancer than Rene. What else? Nothing, really. I liked my life as it was—which is exactly what I said.

The men exchanged glances. Martha took the floor. "Michelle wanted you to take the crown of Radenor."

I looked at Henry, at Martha, at Rick. "Uncle...why would I need the crown? Is our life here that bad?"

They exchanged glances once again. Rick asked me, "Alex, have I ever lied to you?"

I shook my head. I can even feel when a person is about to tell lies.

"Right. I could tell you a lot, and you'd believe me."

You wish...

"No irony, please. You're still young, and I'm good at wordplay. There are ways to tell the truth and make it worse than any lie."

He was probably right. Rick had taught me that as well—he had even complained that he had lost his touch, without anyone to practice it on.

"Which is why I have a proposal."

I held my tongue, waiting for him to continue, and he did.

"We've got an order for a big silver shipment. I want you to escort it with Henry. You will see the world, learn a few things, take a look at Radenor. And if you think that everything is all right in our country, I won't say a word—we'll leave for Miellen or anywhere else, let Rudolph and Abigail rule in peace. Agreed?"

I nodded. Why not? A promise didn't mean a marriage, as they say. At that time, I didn't know what I had agreed to.

Rick was right. After what I had seen in Radenor, I couldn't bear the thought of leaving my uncle in charge of the poor country. My only surprise after that journey was how people could tolerate that. What could make them rise up and stop this treatment? But that's a story for later...

***

Did I want the crown?

Yeah, right. A crown, a crow, and a crocodile—I had seen a picture of that in a book. Think big! I want it all! Funny.

I was brought up to know that the crown meant responsibility, and it didn't give you crap, it only took things away. But Rudolph and Abigail, they weren't king and queen, not really. Just children who had finally gotten their hands on new toys and played with them while stuffing their mouths with cake. And like most children, they were stupid, cruel, and clueless. But was that a reason enough to overthrow them? There had been worse rulers.

And really, how would I do that? Imagine a half-demon in his true form appearing in front of the palace, scratching the back of his head with his tail, and yelling, "Hey, King, come out and fight me! Oh, and you'd better take your relatives with you!" And Rudolph would run out of the gates, his family in tow, trying to ram me with Abigail's head, followed by Andre wielding Ruthina in the same way. I would cast hexes on all of them, while we are at it, and sit on the empty throne. People would applaud me, "Hurrah to the demons!"...half-demons, excuse me, and the servitors and thralls of the Bright Saint would look upon all that and weep tears of emotion. What if I redeemed myself and became a kind ruler? Why, I could!

Don't believe that? I don't, either. Most likely, they would simply overwhelm me with numbers, and who'd care if I cast a curse or anything on Rudolph and his family? My power wasn't unlimited, while the crowd was. Everybody feared and hated half-demons, I was no exception, royal blood or not. They wouldn't take notice of my status before killing me for good.

And who'd take the throne? That wouldn't be my concern. Somebody would turn up—like a latrine, the throne was bound to attract flies. I really didn't want to get involved in all that—and I wouldn't have. If only Rick hadn't sent me to escort a caravan transporting ore. The things I saw over those days...

I still feel nauseous when I remember that time. I've watched lots of horrible stuff happen in my life, but the first time was like losing your virginity—you never forget it. Roads ridden with potholes, hovels with sieves for roofs, people wearing rags that Torrin's residents would be ashamed to put on a scarecrow. Maybe they could use them to wash the floor, but those clothes had more holes than fabric. The worst thing, however, was the children. Gaunt-looking, with hollow cheeks, sticklike arms, scrawny, emaciated, with the eyes of old men devoid of all hope. They didn't expect anything good from this life, and neither did their parents.

Along the roads, I saw dying men, people hung for committing terrible crimes such as stealing a few coppers or a piece of bread, cripples...and I got scared. I compared the thralls, those fat, well-groomed slobs, and their flock, who were collapsing from hunger, and I couldn't understand. Were they touched in the head? How could that happen? How could they drive people to such a sorry state? If my child was dying of hunger because of the king, I would never sit and watch.

I'll never forget the woman I couldn't save. We were passing through Raitor, a small town, when we heard screams. My companions had tried to stop me, but I steered my horse toward their source. It turned out to be a woman who was being whipped on a scaffold in front of an audience. They did it slowly, with flair. As for the people... No, there were no people. It was a crowd, the same thin and hungry filth, and they were watching, eating, spitting, making bets on how fast the executioner would beat the poor woman to death, how soon she would faint...

I wanted to kill them. In a minute, my power would have been released, raising all corpses in the area—and not your nice controllable zombies, no! They would be ghasts, hungry and thirsty for blood, like those I saw here. I would have done it; I swear. But Henry's hand squeezed my shoulder, making me wince in pain.

"Look, Alex," he whispered angrily, his breath hot on my skin. "Look!"

"Scum!" I hissed. "Beasts..."

"No. They are people, but Rudolph turned them into beasts."

"Yeah, right, as if they were virtuous before..."

I felt something hot and wet on my cheeks. The crowd was splattered with blood. I jolted forward, but Henry wouldn't let me go.

"People become animals if they get lowered to such levels. They don't have any other purpose—all they can do is make children, feed them, have some fun...and that's the only way they can. Executions are cheap, and blood intoxicates..."

"Let me go!"

"Watch, Alex. That's your uncle's doing."

"And before him—"

"Your grandfather would never allow that. During his rule, there were no scaffolds on the squares."

I clenched my teeth.

"Henry, maybe we could—"

"They'll tear us to shreds. I'd love to help, but..."

I got it. The crowd would never let go of a victim. And we wouldn't be able to rescue her; I knew that for a fact. If we were faster, then maybe, but when we arrived, the execution had already been underway. Right then, death would be preferable for her than a lifetime of torment.

Only a skilled mage healer could help her now, and we had none. I was of no use. I couldn't interfere. I could only watch her suffer.

"What has she done?"

Henry yelled to the crowd.

"They're executing a witch, your grace," somebody answered.

A witch? Mother? Martha? Would they do the same to them?

The rage inside me exploded in a fiery stream of power. It lashed outside, reaching the woman on the scaffolding, and in one strike, I tore the bond tethering her soul to this life, and it soared into heaven, gifting me with a small, grateful smile.

My blood boiled. Each and every nerve in my body was burning, and scorching black hate coiled inside of me as if it were a snake. I felt pain, fear, nausea... I sank down in the saddle.

I hate it!

Hate found a place inside my heart. Something like that should never be done to people. Never.

During a rest stop, Henry spent a while trying to bring me around, feeding me spiced wine, calming me down, comforting me, trying to explain we couldn't have done anything for the poor girl. It didn't help much.

That was my first time killing someone innocent who wasn't a danger to me. I still feel disgust whenever I remember it. The first innocent life I took had been on my uncle's account. It's not like I wanted to kill her, did I? She wasn't anyone to me.

When I got back, Martha had me spend a week drinking herbal elixirs. She walked me to the cemetery, talked to me, sang me lullabies as if I were a child. I was afraid. Radenor...I didn't really want to rule the country, true. But leaving it like that? Never.

Maybe it was Michelle's blood that awoke in me—the princess who loved her country more than her life, my mad mother...Was I mad as well? I had no idea. I didn't want to know.

I felt as if I was scorched by fire. It hurt. It hurt me when I saw that, fathomed that, thought about that...They were people! I wasn't human, but I couldn't sit and watch how innocents died. I was hurt, and I was scared.