Page 204

Story: Princes of Chaos

The four of us are better to manipulate and control when we’re apart.

“Such beautiful, soft hands,” he muses, ignoring the question. He looks down at it–my hand, cradled in his palm–and covers it with his other, giving my knuckles a slow, tender rub. “If I find you snooping like this again, I'll let Lagan take them.”

I lurch back, yanking my hand from his grip. Maybe it’s not the smart or safe thing to do, but when the thought rises to the surface, I release it without reservation. “You’re the most terrible man I've ever met.”

Ashby only gestures to the door, moving to let me through. “Then you haven't met very many men.”

It’s as I’m making my escape, fleeing for the hallway, that he stops me.

“Oh, and Princess?” When I freeze, not daring to look over my shoulder at him, he adds, “You have more than one duty in this Palace. A good Princess would already be mostly finished preparing for the Valentine's day party. It is being held in your honor, after all.”

The laugh that threatens to erupt is more hysteria than humor, because I see how seriously he takes this. How he truly does think any and all of this is an honor, including my cleansing. His entire identity is wrapped around this world, and therefore by association, so are all our ours.

“No worries, my King,” I say, because sometimes the only way to deal with a madman is to play on his level. “I have no doubt the party will be the most talked about in years.”

I’min the solarium before the sun has even completely risen.

It’s cold and damp, the earth frozen beneath my fingers as I work, digging and cutting, even though it’s useless. I haven’t been able to get anything to grow in here. Not a single flower. Not one bulb. Not even a weed.

Angrily, I cull them all–the dead, frozen seedlings–my hands thrashing through soil even though there’s a spade right beside my knee. I work my way down a long, stone planter, barely seeing what I'm doing, just knowing that I have to get rid of it. All of it.

No part of me should be in this place.

My movements turn frantic as I reach the urn, remembering the day Wicker had come down here. I was in the middle of transferring this dead rose bush, knowing it’d be useless, but bored enough to try. I remember him sitting on the steps, looking tired and sad andhaunted. That was the look on his face–the one I couldn’t place at the time. I see it with full clarity now.

“There you are,” Stella calls, walking down the stone path. “I went to your room and was surprised to see you gone.”

“You’re the one that wanted me to come down here.” I yank out a clump of brittle stalk and toss it to the ground in frustration. “And why, exactly? So I could see how I suck at this, too? That I can’t even get a fucking flower to grow in this place? That my whole role here is a pointless, giant disaster?”

She freezes at the gate, frowning. “It’s not pointless, Verity.”

I turn and look at my handmaiden. “How did they find you?”

They. The Lady and Duchess.

She looks down, biting her lip. “At the Hideaway. I was working there–not as an escort–but cleaning rooms and whatever my sister needed. Story came in asking if there was anyone who might be a good handmaiden. I volunteered.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, looking sad. “I guess you’re not the only one who wanted to be something bigger than you were destined to be.”

I exhale and sit on the stone wall, staring down at my dirty hands. “I’m a failure, Stella. I had two jobs.Two. The first one was to get pregnant, and the second was to secretly infiltrate the Palace for the Monarchs.” I look at her. “Do you know how many deposits I’ve taken?”

She sits next to me and shakes her head.

“Forty-seven.” I dig at the soil beneath my thumbnail. “I’ve been fucked every way you can do it. Missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy-style, knees up, bent over a dozen surfaces, railed by a sleep-walking demon, and way too many times with my legs in stirrups.” I look at her, scowling. “Not one single sperm has attached to my egg.”

Her face falls. “Verity–”

“No,” I cut her off. “If that’s not pathetic enough, I not only got busted not-so-covertly fraternizing with the enemy, but I also got caught revealing the biggest secret in the Palace.Oncamera. And!And!” I shout, “Everyone already knew!” I drop my head in my hands, digging at my scalp. “Now everyone knows about what happened to me the other night. I’ve hurt my friends and family. I’ve lost every inch I’ve gained here. I’m a complete and utter failure.”

There’s a short pause before Stella’s hand lands on my back. “So what do you want to do about it?”

I shoot up, pacing, unable to stay still. “Run away,” I blurt, wiping my hands on my thighs. “Leave Forsyth and never come back.” I feel how much of a relief it’d be, deep in my bones. I could. Stella and Ballsack could maybe smuggle me out. Although that idea hurts like a stab to the gut. Leaving my mom? The Dukes? The Monarchs?

She gives me a steady look. “If that’s what you want, they can make it happen.”

I barely hear her, a different idea spinning in my head. “Or, I could stay, do what I came here for. Get knocked up, try to raise a new generation where something like the Royal cleansing never happens again.”

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