Shadows of Desire

RESPECT

Desmond glared angrily down as he gave a menacing scowl. His eyes full of scorn and disappointment. "Well?" He asked. His voice low and accusing. "What have you to say for yourself?"

Rowan hung his head, refusing to make eye contact. He had knelt down on one knee, as was protocol, but found it hard to remain in that position. All he wanted to do at that moment was turn and run from the King's cabinet then find some small, dark, place to hide.

He couldn't do that, of course. Running now would only further anger the King and Rowan could not do that. No one, not even the royal family, could afford to incur the Kings wrath.

"Answer me!" The King, growing impatient, yelled. Rowan shivered as the King's voice boomed loud, over him. He was certain that every being who resided within the castles walls had heard him.

"Forgive me, your Majesty." Rowan tried to hide the fear in his small voice though to no avail. He was sure that the King could smell the fear coming off him in waves. "I...I meant no disrespect. I'll apologize to Lady Caroline at once."

"You'll do more than apologize." The King growled, his voice thick with disdain.

"Of course, your Majesty." Rowan agreed. His voice was as shaky as his hands. "What...what would his Majesty have me do?"

There was a brief moment of silence between them. The only thing rowan could hear was the soft drumming of the King's fingers against the arm of his chair. It was dangerous for the King to remain silent for so long. It meant he was thinking. Thinking of some horrible punishment no doubt. Rowan wanted to see what the mans face looked like, wanted to look into his eyes and gauge his anger but he dared not look up. Not without permission.

As though reading his mind, the King finally spoke, demanding Rowan do the one thing he both feared and desired. "Look at me." The King hissed through his teeth like an angry viper about to strike.

Rowan did as he was told and slowly lifted his head, his eyes rising from the floor until he was looking directly into the King's eyes and what he found there chilled him to the bone. The King's icy stare bore into him hatefully, and with more contempt than he had ever seen in the man's eyes before. Rowan's heart beat fiercely in his chest, the sound of it pounding in his ears. The scowl on the King's face told Rowan that he'd heard it too and it infuriated the monarch more.

"You disgust me." The King spat. Not something Rowan had not heard before. Such insults were common and Rowan accepted them without complaint. One did not argue with the King and one certainly never disagreed with the King. In Old Basmorte, everyone knew that the King's word was law and the King was never wrong, even when he was. "I must have committed some unforgivable sin in my past life for the Gods to curse me so."

Past life? Rowan rolled his eyes internally. The old King had committed plenty of sins in this life yet the Gods didn't seem overly concerned about that, why should they worry themselves about his past life? As it were, Rowan felt that he was the one who was cursed. Every day of his life felt like a curse.

"I apologize for having offended you, your majesty." Rowan said softly. His voice never rising above a whisper though he held the Kings eyes as he spoke. "If it would please the King to send me away, I would go happily."

The King sneered at him. "I have no intention of sending you away. But, you will learn your place."

Rowan said nothing though the fear he once felt was now beginning to turn to anger. He'd requested more than once to be sent to Nightport, or even Ravenskeep, but had been denied each time. It seemed the King wanted him close-by, where he could continue to torment him and hurl insults at him. The King seemed to take great pleasure in being cruel and Rowan had endured the mistreatment for years but now he was growing weary of it. Resentment festered inside him and soured his mood. He was becoming unbearable to be around, or so Lady Caroline had said.

Rowan balled his hands into fists. This was all her fault. The woman had a viper's tongue and she spewed venom wherever she went. She was just more thing that Rowan had to endure but lately he'd found her presence to be so overwhelmingly abhorrent that he just couldn't absorb her petty humiliations anymore and so in a moment of weakness, he'd verbally berated her and then slapped her across the face. Not his finest moment but he knew from past experiences that the abuse would only continue if he didn't do something about it now, before she became Queen and out-ranked him.

The King sighed then forward in his chair so that his face was mere inches from Rowan's. He took Rowan's face in his hand and turned his head up, pressing his fingers into the flesh of his cheeks. "You will apologize to Lady Caroline at once. Grovel before her if you have to. And, from this moment on you will show her the respect that she deserves. Do you understand me?" He spoke to Rowan as though he were a small child and not the man of nineteen that he was.

Rowan grit his teeth then attempted a nod though it was impossible with how tightly the King held him. "Yes." He snarled, causing the King to raise an eyebrow. He almost seemed...amused. "I understand, your majesty."

"Good." The King released him and sat back in his chair. "Before the day of over, you will report to Master Kinnerik for punishment. No go. You are dismissed."

Rowan stood, bowing to the King. "As you wish, your majesty." He took a few steps backwards, as respectfully as he could, then turned and exited the room.

Rowan's blood boiled when he reached the ante chamber and found Lady Caroline watching him with a self-righteous smirk on her face. He attempted to walk past her but she quickly moved to block his path. "I believe my future husband ordered you to do something?" She phrased the comment like a question but Rowan knew it was meant as a command. She and the King had not yet been wed and yet she sought to subjugate Rowan.

Rowan straightened his back and held his head high as he looked her in the eyes, not about to show any sign of weakness and allow the woman to bring him to his knees. He grinned, cocking an eyebrow, then made a formal bow before her. "My apologizes, Lady Caroline. I was out of line in my actions and my words. I humble myself before you and beg your forgiveness for my egregious behavior. If there is anything I may to do make amends simply name it and I shall do it graciously and post haste for my only desire in this world is to see your undying happiness."

Lady Caroline scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Stand up you fool." She demanded. "Do you think mocking me will atone for your actions?"

"The King ordered me to apologize." He retorted. "I have done that. He never ordered me to mean it."

She shook her head in disbelief. "You apologize yet continue to insult me. You have no respect for me nor for the crown. I will not stand for this. You will show me the proper respect that I deserve or I will have you publicly flogged!"

Rowan folded his hands behind his back and frowned. "With all due respect, My Lady, you are not yet the Queen and therefore I do not defer to you. Do not forget yourself, madam. I am still a Prince. Perhaps it is you who should show proper respect to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

He bowed once more then stepped around the Lady and left the room, slamming the door closed hard behind him.

By the time Rowan had reached the outer corridor he was fuming. He'd take his punishment as commanded but he would never show any respect to that woman. She was vile. Absolutely detestable. The only good that might come from her marriage to the King was her constant threats to have Rowan exiled from the Palace. Even if he were made to live in a hovel and tend sheep for the rest of his days, it would be better than living under the constant scrutiny of his father and future step-mother.

Yes, he would gladly take exile. At least then he'd be free.

***

PUNISHMENT

Obadiah Kinnerik was a man well passed his prime, often looking gaunt and disheveled. His mane of silver hair framed his sunken features, casting a shadow over his face that, along with his hunched back and drooping shoulders, gave the man a rather threatening appearance. His clothing, a fine tunic and slacks hidden beneath a fur trimmed robe, hung loosely and ill-fitting from his skeletal like frame. He walked with a slow gate, limping on his right leg, and seemed to drag himself about, groaning and muttering under his breath about his many ailments.

The overall appearance of the man sent children running in the opposite direction. Despite his frail and labored demeanor, he was a well respected official at the palace and was often deferred to in matters of regulations and punishment. Whether it was his firm hand or his years of experience that made others bow and tremble in his presence Rowan did not know but it was clear that no one, peasant nor noble, was willing to put themselves on his bad side, lest they find themselves on the chopping block.

Rowan couldn't understand why so many saw Kinnerik as some wicked creature to be feared. If any of them had actually taken the time to get to know the ancient man they would see that behind the silvery locks and withered expression, the man had only kindness in his eyes. Yes, Kinnerik was kind and fair but he was also a just man and though he greatly disliked carrying out the more harsher punishments, preferring to spend his time bend over some massive tome in the library, he was still a stern man and law breakers did have cause to fear him for he was not known to give second chances.

Kinnerik lifted his gaze when he saw Rowan striding across the library to the table that Kinnerik often occupied during the day, then plopped himself down in the chair across from him. Kinnerik raised an eyebrow and smirked as Rowan huffed then crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt of defiance.

"To what do I owe the honor of your visit, young Prince?" Kinnerik rasped, his voice brittle with age.

"The King has sent me to you for punishment." Rowan grumbled as he slouched down in his chair.

"Ah." Kinnerik removed his spectacles and placed them gently on the table. "And, what is it that you have done now, prey tell?"

Rowan smirked. "I called Lady Caroline a pretentious old cow with the brains of a mountain troll. She was so angry that she spat on me and so I slapped her."

Kinnerik leaned forward, resting his arms atop the table as he stared sternly at Rowan. "Not behavior becoming of a Prince." He stated. There was no judgment in his tone. He was simply stating a fact. Still, the inflection was there. Rowan had acted poorly and he knew it.

"She deserved it." Rowan said flatly, dropping his gaze to the table top, a hint of shame crossing his young features.

"She may have at that." Kinnerik agreed. "But what good did it do you to retaliate?"

Rowan sighed, squirming in his seat. "None I suppose. Other than the brief moment of joy I got from seeing the horrified look on her face." He grinned internally remembering how she'd gasped then stumbled back in shock, flailing her arms and screeching like a banshee as she called for the Palace guards. Rowan knew he'd be in trouble but the gratification he got at seeing the woman humiliated was well worth whatever punishment he'd receive.

"So, you succeeded in humiliating a Lady of a lesser station than your own. The reward, though amusing I'm sure, was short lived as you are now the one who is in trouble, not her. All you have done was sacrifice your own dignity and lower yourself to her level."

"Was I to just take her insult and do nothing?" Rowan sat up, raising his voice a bit though instantly regretted it when he saw the seriousness in Kinnerik's eyes.

"Yes, for that is what a true Prince would do. You are young, sheltered, you've never been outside the Palace walls so you do not know what the world is like. People are cruel and there will be others who seek to hurt you but you must know when to fight and when to simply walk away. It requires humility and restraint to be the bigger man, but your subjects will respect you more for it in time. No one wants to be be ruled by a tyrant, my young Prince. To truly be a servant of the people is to rule with compassion and understanding."

Rowan pursed his lips, slouching in his seat again. "I'm an omega, Master Kinnerik. I will never rule."

Kinnerik smiled reverently. "Maybe not the Kingdom, highness, but an omega will always rule his house." He picked up his glasses and slipped them back on as he bent over the book he had been reading. "Stables." He said, not looking up from his text. "An after noon of hard work will do you good."

Rowan stood and bowed. "Yes, Master Kinnerik, thank you."

Kinnerik waved him off as though he could no longer be bothered and Rowan bowed again, then turned and left. Mucking out the King's stables wasn't on Rowan's list of favorite things to do but it was fair and, honestly, it could have been worse. At least he wouldn't spend the night in the pillory.

***

CURIOSITY

It was dark when Rowan returned to the castle. He wanted nothing more than to bathe and then retire for the night. He'd skipped the evening meal but he was too sore and tired to even worry about that. The stables master had worked him harder than he'd expected, seeming to take great joy in ordering a Prince around. Still, Rowan did his work diligently and without complaint. Well, without much complaint.

He hated horses and the feeling was mutual. He'd never had cause to ride them really as he was never allowed on patrols or even hunting parties so the beasts weren't used to him. He suspected that his presence made them nervous, not that he could blame them. They had the sense to know when they were in the presence of a dangerous predator. Not that he would ever kill one of the horses. The thought of feeding on a horse made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. Actually the thought of feeding on any living thing make him physically ill. Yet another reason for him to lose favor with the King.

Not only was Rowan an omega, something extremely rare in his species and also something the King took as a personal insult to his noble bloodline, but Rowan was also, by all accounts, a piss poor excuse for a vampire. His father, the King, thought Rowan weak and too self-indulgent. He didn't follow the rules and spoke his mind far too often for the King's liking. As far as his father was concerned, Rowan should spend the majority of his time, hidden away in his apartments, where he wouldn't be an embarrassment.

Rowan wouldn't say that he nessasarily hated his father, he didn't. Not really. But he found it safer to stay out of his father ways as much as possible. Ideally, being sent to Ravenskeep would be the best course of action but the King had refused and Rowan knew better than to press the issue. Ravenskeep was a large manor house on a massive piece of wild land on the outskirts of Basmorte just over the border of Rosegate.

The mansion had been a wedding gift from the King to Lady Eleanor who was Rowan's mother. Rowan had been born there and raised in the Mansion with his mother until her death just six months after Rowan's twelfth birthday. King Desmond reluctantly had Rowan brought to the castle then and there he had remained, much to the King's displeasure. While Rowan didn't really hate his father, he was positive that his father hated him.

Rowan missed his mother greatly. His life had been happy until her death. They had lived peacefully, though isolated, but had wanted for nothing. The King's visits became fewer as the years progressed and Rowan suspected that it was partly because of him. His father always seemed angry to see him, spouting off about how disappointed he was at having an omega child. Rowan was worthless in his father's eyes. The King had wanted a male heir to carry on his blood line and one rule over Basmorte when Desmond's time had come to an end, but the birth of Rowan had squashed any hope of that as omega's were not allowed to rule.

In Desmond's four-hundred years, he had fathered twenty-six children and in those twenty-six children only one had been a male worthy of being the King's heir. Unfortunately, his son and heir had been killed in battle with a local werewolf tribe some fifty years before Rowan's birth, leaving the King once again without an heir. Rowan was meant to replace that son.

What a disappointment his birth must have been to old Desmond for in the King's eyes, Rowan was little more than just another useless daughter. A burden that he would have to care for until he could find a suitable spouse to take him off his hands as he had done with each of his twenty-four daughters. The problem was, since Rowan was a male omega, who would ever claim him as a bride?

Rowan made his way down the east wing corridor on the second level, past the guest suites. His apartments were located on the third level, among storage rooms and some of the upper level servants quarters. His rooms were considerably smaller than the suites reserved for the royal family or even the guest suits but he didn't care. He was far enough away from the King's rooms that he rarely saw him and, being so far away from the royal family, he had all the privacy he could want.

Rowan had one servant, a young girl named Folen. Folen wasn't a vampire. Rowan wasn't sure what she was but if he had to guess, from her scent, he'd guess she was a Fae. He figured she'd been given to him because no one else would have her. It was unseemly for a Fae to serve royals or even nobles. They were seen as lower species and unanimously despised by all Vampires. All but Rowan. He didn't mind her at all. In fact, he thought she was quite lovely. He suspected that assigning her as his personal 'ladies maid' was just another slight against him by the man who had fathered him. If it was meant to embarrass Rowan, then the joke was on the King, Rowan liked her.

Rowan wasn't interested in females. Probably another reason why a female had been assigned to him. There was no chance that Rowan would take advantage of her and no chance that some random male servant would get Rowan pregnant. Not that he'd allow that to happen anyway. He liked kids, as most omegas did, or so he'd read in a book somewhere, but had no desire to have any of his own. It wasn't that he didn't want children someday, he did, he just wasn't sure about the whole birthing thing. He'd seen plenty of pregnant women in his nineteen years and had heard the servant girls screaming while in labor. It sounded extremely unpleasant and not something he wanted to experience.

He knew he wouldn't die giving birth. Vampires were very resilient, and healed quickly. They didn't get sick or have to worry about diseases and could heal from most injuries. That didn't mean they didn't feel pain though. They did. Rowan knew this from personal experience. He and pain were on a first name basis now. He was used to it. It wasn't the pain that he feared though. It was the way it made him feel. Weak and powerless. If he winced or cried out in pain he would be rewarded with a look of complete and utter revulsion from the King. Vampires were supposed to be strong, fearless, and Rowan was not.

He hated himself for his weakness. He hated that, as his father's only surviving male offspring, he wasn't good enough. Would never be good enough. Nothing he could do would change that. He was an omega and omega's were weak. That would be his cross to bear for the rest of his life and, as a vampire, that could end up being a very very long time.

As he moved down the darkened corridor, lit only by the lanterns hung from the stone walls, he was surprised to hear music coming from one of the guest suits. Following the sounds of the music he saw a light creeping out from under one of the doors. Strange, he thought. He hadn't known that the palace had any visiting nobles. Not that he would have been told about any guests anyway. News seldom reached his ears first and what he did learn he learned from the gossiping servants.