Royal Affliction (The Anti-Princess Saga) by Jennifer Marsh Page B

skin was light, like mine, just a kiss of blue.  It contrasted well with the lengthy, golden robes he was wearing.  His long silver-blue hair and beard sparkled in the moonlight as did the large, golden crown perched atop his head.  His deep cobalt eyes were livid as he gazed at Clifton and in his hand was a golden spear with filigreed edges.  Not a good sign.
    Kafkus was at his side looking rather pleased with himself.  Many others were trailing behind them.  Some I recognized.  Some I didn’t.  But all of them had unsettling eyes, and all of them were armed.
    My father came to a halt in front of Clifton.  As he raised his spear I threw myself in front of him.  His men stayed obediently behind him.
    “Move!”
    I stayed where I was.  “Father, please?” I begged while staring up into those angry eyes.  I searched for some sign of compassion.  There was none.
    He lowered his spear, touching it to the ground.  “Please what?  Please don’t kill this abomination of nature?  No, daughter of mine, I will not stand for this, this thing in my kingdom.”  His tone was very intimidating.  My body wanted to move but I didn’t let it.  I stood my ground.  I had to stand up for Clifton, because I was the only one here who could.
    Kafkus stepped forward.  “She loves him,” he said loud enough to make sure that everyone could hear.  He wasn’t trying to help, he was trying to ensure Clifton’s death and I glared at him for his unnecessary words.
    My father looked even more enraged.  “You love this, this thing ?”
    “Please, just let me explain, at least give me that.”
    “It will do you no good child”.
    “Please, father?”
    “Since you are my daughter, I will listen to what you have to say,” he said and it sparked a glimmer of hope inside of me.  A hope that died as he continued. “But nothing you can say will change my mind.  When you are through, then I will kill him.”
    “Thank you, father.”  I was a little relieved even though I knew I shouldn’t be.  But if he would listen to me it was a start.  I had to persuade him, I just had to.
    I proceeded to tell him, and everyone, Clifton’s story.  How he had come into my life and about his parents.  I told them about the fact that he had never associated with any Boru, except of course for his father.  And about how he had mostly Zolera characteristics.  Clifton stayed quiet while I spoke, and I was grateful for it.
    My father stood there, looking very stiff.  His long hair and beard were the only part of him that was moving.  His deep-blue eyes stared into mine, judging my words as I spoke and when I finished my father remained silent as if in contemplation of something he was not sharing.  His eyes darted to the gap between my torso and arm where Clifton’s hand rested on the sand.
    “That ring,” he whispered.  “Who was your mother, boy?”  It seemed to be something that he needed to know, though I wasn’t sure why.
    “Drina,” he answered his voice shaky from intimidation.  “My mother’s name was Drina.”
    My father swayed for a moment, then dropped to his knees, his spear falling to the ground at his side.  “This…this cannot be.  A Boru?  Did you despise me that much?”
    It was very uncharacteristic of my father to show this much emotion.  It was a sign of weakness that he seldom shared, even in private.  But I knew why the name had affected him this way.  Drina had been his first wife, his first love.  I had never even thought to ask Clifton who his mother had been as I didn’t think that I would have known who she was (not that I had ever known her).
    Drina had left Kortis one night and never returned.  My father had, beyond any doubt, loved her.  He’d never gone after her and had remained hopeful that she would return to him one day.  She never did, and now he knew that she never would.  I think it bothered him that she traded his love for that of our kind’s enemy.  He eventually