Read The Castrofax for Free Online Page A

met the
boy’s eyes, recognizing him from the kitchens, and put a hand over
the apple cakes. The boy gave the smallest nod, and Balien took
it.
    “I just want to know how long you will be
gone and where you are going,” Queen Miranda replied gently. By her
tone and seated stance, Balien knew she was beaten long ago. She
was by no means pretty with deep brown, lifeless eyes, prominent
jaw bones, a nose bridge that was too flat, and slowly forming
jowls. She may have been lovely when she was younger, but that was
before her exiled husband beat her will and confidence out years
ago. The years had not been kind to her either, fleshing out her
middle and creasing her face.
    “My concerns are none of your business.”
    Balien finally had to rescue his Queen. “And
if she has need of you before you return, where will she send a
messenger?”
    Nolen fixed him with a sharp glare, one of
thousands the Prince sent his way, and Balien gave him a thin smile
suggesting Nolen to try and argue with him and see where it lead.
As the soon-to-be brother of a Queen, Balien’s power was growing
over Nolen’s sway.
    Balien had always been described as a gentle
soul, and he saw his purpose in the palace as an aid to those less
fortunate. He liked to think of himself as a vigilante. He had his
father’s dark brown eyes, high cheekbones, and broad chin,
alongside his mother’s dark gold hair cropped short above his
collar and styled to fall back. He ran two fingers though the
unruly locks in a gesture of preparing himself for a battle and
tightened the muscles in his face to ward off the kind look his
eyes often betrayed. Nolen may have grown immune to his glares, but
any passing soul would be chilled. Miranda still was, and she
quickly adverted her eyes from Balien’s sudden movement.
    The serving boy offered the tray of cakes to
Nolen, holding those with onion and cheese closest to the man.
Nolen snatched the first one he saw, taking a mouthful likely
without tasting it. One hand rested in his coat pocket, fiddling
with something unseen.
    Miranda took an apple cake and rose a little
in her seat. “Will you be traveling to Castle Jaden again?”
    “Does it matter?” Nolen snapped in his deep
voice. ‘Someone touched a nerve,’ Balien thought.
    “It does, Prince,” a woman’s voice stated
from the doorway. Balien rose and gave the woman a proper nod as
she entered.
    Lady Mage Aisling was the power behind the
throne. She carried herself with utmost confidence, her face
intelligent and her eyes knowing. The Lady was just into her
fifties, and in her short years had risen from a powerful Mage
House to the Advisor to the Queen. She served the late Rincarel and
now her sister Miranda. She also held a Seat on the Mage Council,
making her one of the ten most influential Mages.
    She fixated her cold blue eyes on Nolen as
she gracefully rounded a couch. Her tight gaze summed up her
calculated opinion of him while keeping his mouth sealed. Balien
was thankful for the reprieve of Nolen’s irritating voice and for
the entertainment. Aisling always brought amusement with her around
the Prince.
    “As Prince, you are required to answer your
Queen’s questions. It is your duty, and your privilege to be in her
presence. Now, what was the question, Your Majesty?” Aisling asked,
taking control of the situation without raising her voice. Balien
smiled into his wine.
    “I would like to know where you are going,
and how long you will be gone,” Miranda asked, her timid voice
gaining a little strength.
    Nolen exhaled sharply, giving the Advisor a
loathsome glare she ignored. “I am going to the Balfor Delta, and I
will be there a few weeks.” He downed the rest of his cake. He drew
whatever he had been fiddling with from his pocket, and Balien saw
the glint of a silver coin, rounded unlike Anatolian square
coins.
    “Would you not take Balien with you? For
protection?” Miranda asked as Nolen took a step to leave. The coin
twirled between his