Page 33 of A Promise of Lies (Shadows of the Tenebris Court #3)

32

Kat

I hurried through the streets and alleyways of Luminis, breaking a little more with each step. I didn’t follow Amandine’s voice calling my name. If she found me anywhere near Bastian, she would know I’d been with him and report it to Cyrus. All my work would be undone.

Instead, I rushed back to the palace. I could get to my rooms and make it seem like I’d been innocently separated from her in the crowd and came straight back here to safety and definitely didn’t sneak off to Bastian after…

After…

A sob choked me, and I had to cover my mouth to hold it in. If I let it take me, there would be no stopping.

It wasn’t real. It didn’t happen. That was a changeling.

It would all be revealed eventually, and we’d laugh about this with Kaliban.

Deep down, I knew none of that was true. But I could pretend until I was back in my suite.

The image of Cyrus with his sword held high dogged every step. Had he changed his mind about helping Kaliban now he thought we’d fucked? Or had he always intended this?

And Braea. She could have freed him, if she wanted to.

I gritted my teeth as I turned onto the corridor leading to my suite. But it gave no relief to the sob knotting in my throat. I just needed to hold it down a little longer. My eyes burned as I stared at the double doors I’d be able to close behind myself and hide from the world.

A little longer. Nearly?—

A hand clamped around my arm. I stumbled, gasped, choked on the tears I was trying to hold down, and found myself face-to-face with Uncle Rufus.

No. Just no .

I yanked from his grasp. “Not today, Uncle Rufus.”

He scoffed, red face looming over me. “I’ve tried a dozen other days, but you’re always so damn elusive. I’ve wasted my entire morning here waiting for you. So, yes, Katherine, today .”

Inwardly, I groaned as I rubbed my face and took in the dimly lit place he’d dragged me into. A bathroom. Cramped. Enclosed. Normally he cornered me in a larger space like a corridor. I’d never been in a small space like this with him. But now he stood with his back against the door, glowering at me.

My skin crawled, part old fear, part something that burned.

I forced a smile to my lips. “Forgive me. I’ve been rather busy with His Majesty. You know he likes to keep me close.” Let him remember that, as far as he was concerned, I had the protection of a king. “But how can I help you?”

He smiled slowly like I’d stepped into a trap. A shiver fled down my spine. “Originally, I wanted to discuss this deal with your husband. I have paperwork ready for you to sign over the estate. But you…”

He gave a satisfied sigh and that was more frightening than anything he could’ve said. I fought to keep my breaths even, but my heart raced, priming my muscles to run. Except, he blocked the door.

“You found your way to a king’s bed and showed me the way to a much, much better prize.”

What could he want more than the estate? My mind circled, but I found no answers. “I—I don’t understand.”

In the half light, his teeth gleamed as he gave a too-wide smile. “Why settle for an estate when I can have a kingdom ?”

I blinked again.

“Poor, silly little girl.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Still doesn’t understand. Let me explain it simply for your little mind. I’ve done some digging, and His Majesty has no illegitimate children hidden in the city. That means no heirs. And if a fae breeds with a human, they’re more likely to produce children. That’s where you come in. Give him a child and he’ll marry you. You’ll birth the heir to Elfhame. I’ll be great uncle to a future king.”

For a horrible, wild moment, I almost laughed.

The worst idea. Uncle Rufus didn’t like laughter at the best of times, but when it was at him? Even worse.

I scrubbed a hand over my mouth. “I see. But I fear I may be the wrong woman for this task. You pointed out yourself that I’d failed to give Robin an heir.” It was a reasonable response that didn’t require me to tell him no. Not when mother nature had already made the decision for us. Thank her and all the gods.

“Ah, that’s where this comes in.” He fished a bottle out of his pocket. Smoked glass hid the contents as he tilted it in front of my face like a prize. “A fertility potion.”

Right. Of course he’d managed to get his hands on something like that.

“What an excellent idea. Fingers crossed it works.” Not that I was going to drink the stuff. I went to take it from him, but he snatched it away.

“No. You have to drink it now.”

My stomach dropped. Much as I didn’t think I could get pregnant, it might be possible. I hadn’t tried particularly hard with Robin.

I’d been unable to get hold of the preventative since arriving in Dawn. Although Bastian took the fae tincture that prevented him siring children, Cyrus had referenced having a child during his speech on the royal balcony. He wasn’t taking any tincture.

“I don’t want?—”

The side of my face exploded as my head snapped to one side. The world spun. Rufus hit a lot harder than Robin.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” His face contorted, more animal than human, as he shoved into my space. “You always seem to need just one more reminder.”

I rubbed my cheek, soaking up the pain that throbbed with my pulse, trying to keep the world still for a second.

“I thought you understood,” he went on. “I thought you knew what was good for you. But it seems living here has planted foolish ideas in your head. Maybe once the king’s put a baby in you, it’ll push those out.”

“No,” I managed to mumble past my pain. “Please. I don’t?—”

He pinched my nose and flipped the lid off the bottle. “Take your medicine and we’ll make a real woman of you.”

I clamped my mouth shut before he could tip the contents in. But it was only a matter of time before I needed to breathe. Seconds and he’d be able to make me drink it down.

I tried to push him away, but he was as immoveable as bedrock.

This was it. Like my breath, the vial of knock-out drops would only last so long. Eventually I would have to take the potion. Eventually I would have to fuck Cyrus. And then…

No. I couldn’t let my mind go there. Better to go away. Even though I knew the right herbs to take, the thought of having that unwanted part of him growing inside me for even a moment was something I could not live with.

I gave in and screwed my eyes shut.

But behind my eyelids was burned the image of Kaliban, kneeling before Cyrus.

The fire started there. It spread to the back of my eyes, making tears spill down my cheeks.

But they weren’t sad tears.

They were salted with my rage.

I was sick of living in an unjust world. Kaliban shouldn’t have died. Lara. The people killed by the Horrors and by Cyrus’s false Hydra Ascendant. Dia. Fant?me.

It was an abomination that they were all dead and this man was alive. This man . It was some sick joke that Kaliban had been killed today and yet he— he got to walk through the palace and lurk in corridors waiting to grab me.

The world was unjust. And maybe in the past I hadn’t been able to do much about it, but right now? Unlike when he’d cornered me in Riverton Palace, I could still move.

Striking up and out, I twisted out of his grip. Air burned in my starved lungs as I dragged it in. I darted next to the sink. If I could tempt him away from the door, I could?—

I flew backwards, shoes scraping across the floor. Something smashed. Agony burst at the back of my head. The room grew even darker for a second. He squeezed my throat.

It was instinct to go away. To close my eyes or close my mind and pretend I wasn’t here, that this wasn’t real, that what happened to me didn’t matter.

Branches snake overhead, stars blooming between them.

But I didn’t want to go back there. I thrashed in his grip, grabbed his arm, dug my nails in.

I sucked in what little breath I could. The taste of his sickly aftershave, too strong.

Mud creeps between my toes, cold and damp.

I didn’t want to be a slave to that memory. “I refuse,” I choked out.

“You think I need your consent?” He bared his teeth, pushing my chin up, lifting the potion bottle once more.

Leaf mulch and old death clog up my nostrils .

I clung to the wall, a drowning woman gripping the side of a boat, heedless of where it was going, desperate to just keep her head above water. Desperate to stay in her body and fight.

I needed to climb aboard and take charge. If not for me, for Dia… for Fant?me.

My head exploded again as he smacked me into the wall. “Are you listening to me, Katherine? You will take this potion and you will finally give this family a child.”

Warm liquid tricked down the back of my neck, and I held that sensation close. I even cradled the pain.

I was here. I was now. I could act.

I reached for the lump on the back of my head. The sticky blood was another anchor against the way his hand around my throat tried to tug me away.

I had been here before. I had gone away before. I had fawned and fled and let him win.

It would be easy to slip away. Pretend. Escape. It was a well worn path I could tread with my eyes shut.

But I’d had enough of easy.

I pulled the lock picks from my hair.