Page 34 of A Promise of Lies (Shadows of the Tenebris Court #3)

33

Kat

I could survive while he was still alive in the world, yes. But I couldn’t truly live. Not with him dogging my steps. And I was done with only surviving.

As it grew harder to breathe, the image of Kaliban grew stronger, overlayed on the contorted features of my uncle. It was an outrage that burned under my skin that Kaliban should die and Rufus should live. Who had decided such a thing? How was it allowed to happen?

I’d had enough of other people making the decisions.

I reached down and slid my tools into the tiny keyhole of the bracelet.

“Looking for a weapon?” Rufus sneered, squeezing tighter. “Good luck. I know you’re not armed. The king told me.”

I could barely breathe now, only gasping in thin snatches, and I dug the picks into my fingertips, reminding myself of what was real. But I returned a smile of my own. “Not with steel, no.”

The creases between his eyebrows scored deeper. His sneer faltered. “What do you mean?”

“You buried me. But do you know what seeds do when they’re buried?” I wheezed out. “They grow.”

He frowned and shrank back as though my strength frightened him.

Just you wait, dear uncle.

“I was in the dark for a long time. I almost rotted there. But not anymore.”

The clink of the bracelet landing on the tiled floor was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

And the feeling—gods, the feeling of power buzzing through me was intoxicating. I almost swooned as it instantly peaked to match my fury.

His eyes went so wide, I could see the whites all the way around. He tried to release my throat, but I grabbed his wrist and held him there.

My bottled up poison came to the surface, strong enough to kill, but not so strong that it would be quick. He didn’t deserve quick.

His breaths sped, flicking his lips with spittle. Again, he tried to pull away, but darkness crept up the veins of his arm, carrying weakness with it.

I clicked my tongue. “Now, now, Uncle Rufus. You always insisted on touching me, even though I never wanted it. But let me help you. Let it be the last thing you ever do.”

“No. You can’t…” He shook his head, desperation and terror making his face slack. “You can’t …”

I just smiled. And for once, it wasn’t forced.

Clutching his stomach, he grunted in pain and whispered, “Please.”

I was beyond mercy.

When he sucked in one last breath and fell, I wasn’t horrified. I wasn’t sad. Or guilty.

It felt right. If the sword Justice had been here, it would’ve lifted for me. I had merely chosen a woman’s weapon instead.

I stood over his body a long while, drinking in the relief that he had no power to change things in the world anymore. I would never walk down a corridor and find him lurking. He would never grab me and try to make me do his bidding ever again.

But…

I did have a body to explain away. He was too large for me to hide.

Running wouldn’t help. He’d clearly been poisoned by touch—the dark stain began at his hand—and we were mere feet from my rooms.

I spun in place, searching for anything that might help. Blood smeared a cracked mirror where he’d smacked my head into it. A glass vase lay smashed on the floor. Obvious signs of a struggle. I peered into the mirror’s shattered surface, lifting my chin. My hair was a mess and his finger marks were still around my neck.

The victim. Self-defence. It wasn’t a lie.

I gasped in again and again, working up my breathing until it was panicked and tight, then I staggered into the corridor. “Help! Help me!”

A pair of guards came running, taking in my appearance before exchanging frowns.

“He wanted me to…” I shook my head like it was too much to speak and pointed towards the bathroom.

One poked her head in. “Good gods.” When she turned around, she’d gone ashen. “Looks like he attacked her.”

They eased me into a chair and withdrew to have a hushed conversation. I was too relieved at getting away with killing Rufus to manoeuvre into overhearing.

I’d done it. I was free. He would never bother me again. I covered my face, hiding how close I was to laughing.

More guards appeared, securing the corridor. They all took turns peering into the bathroom.

“Where is she?” Cyrus swept around the corner a moment after his demanding voice. “Is she—Katherine!” He picked me up by my arms and took me in from head to toe. “What the hells happened here?”

“My uncle, he wanted me to poison… someone for him, so he picked the lock on my bracelet.” I shook my head and gulped. “But when I refused, he attacked me. And—and I panicked, so my poison came, and… Please, Cyrus, I need that bracelet back on. Please .” I hid my face in my hands like I was ashamed.

If I could make him believe it had been removed against my will…

Please, gods. I know I’ve said a lot of shit about you, but please.

“Who did he ask you to kill?”

Not too obvious. Remember you’re afraid.

I lifted my head and gave him a wide-eyed look that said “ you .” Sniffling, I threw myself against his chest. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if he’d managed to hurt you.”

He stiffened. “You killed him… for me?”

Seemed my silence was enough of an answer for him, because his arms slowly came around me. “There, there.” He patted my back awkwardly, then extricated himself from my hold. “I just need to see…” He smiled with an odd glint in his eyes.

“Your Majesty, are you sure you want to?—?”

He waved the guard out of the way and, one arm around my shoulders, entered the bathroom.

He stared down at Rufus’s body, at his outstretched hand, black with poison.

“You touched him.” He clenched and unclenched his hand, attention falling to my fingers.

I could still feel Rufus’s grip on my throat. He’d deserved every moment of that slow death. He’d deserved so much more.

Dia’s bones against dark earth. Fant?me’s soft fur. The girl I’d once been. He’d taken them all.

“He touched me,” I bit out. “And that was his last mistake.”

Slowly, Cyrus looked up, his face couldn’t have been more transformed. Pale, pinched. It was like something pulled down on him, sucking out the colour and the cruel pleasure.

He was afraid. Of me .

That sense of power suffused me, but below it ran dread, cold and deep. He wasn’t meant to fear me. He was only meant to see something weak and frail. No threat here.

I shook my head as though I was as shocked as him. “I don’t even remember what I did. I—I panicked, and my magic just appeared. I didn’t mean to kill him, I just… I was so afraid.”

He made a thoughtful little sound and pulled his arm from around my shoulders. With a handkerchief protecting his fingers, he scooped up the iron bracelet and examined it for a long while before holding it out.

Obedient, I offered my wrist. I didn’t dare to search for the lock picks. I’d dropped them in the struggle, and in the narrative I’d spun, they had belonged to Rufus. If I asked for them, it would blow my story apart.

Cyrus was careful not to touch me as he snapped the bracelet in place. Only once it was locked did he give the faintest smile.

He insisted on escorting me to my suite, but there was no hand on the small of my back guiding me along.

All the while he fiddled with the tiny key that was meant to be the only way to unlock the bracelet that held my power in check.