Page 22 of A Rising Hope (The Freckled Fate #3)

22

GIDEON

I didn’t bother being quiet or thoughtful as I stridently pushed the double doors wide open, swaggering into the grand room.

Insanaria was seated on one of the two tufted chairs facing the pink velvet couch. Luxurious thick white carpet outlined half the room’s floor, the other filled with marbled black-and-white tile. Pink and purple fuchsia flowers dropped from the ceilings, swirling and alive. The decor of the rest of the room was just as odious. There were nauseating colors of all kinds, marble statues and figurines crawled with flowers and plants, dull stacks of scrolls and tall open trunks. It was like she was hoping to hide her dark and foul heart with the capricious design, her Creator nature trying to bring normality to her eroding world.

My eyes felt like they were on fire, my skin crawling with a million ants. The potent smell of flowers and blooms made my already dizzying headache worse.

I really fucking hated dying. Or more so the side effects of coming back from being dead.

I held back a scoff as I paraded through the room towards her.

“Sit , ” the Queen dared to command, and I played along with her demands. For now.

I took a seat on the couch across from her. Her dark eyes lingered on the still gaping hole in my chest, at my pierced heart that was slowly weaving itself whole. Layers of silence built up in the air though neither of us spoke a single word.

I couldn’t see the Basalt Glass arrow she held nearby, but I could sense its presence just as strong as I could sense her rage and her hidden horror. I reached for the stale sandwiches she placed on the round table that was made out of gold so intricately welded that it reminded me of lace.

My body welcomed the nourishment, ignoring the poor quality of it. The bits of energy warming my rigid blood, life flowing back to me.

After more than half an hour she finally severed the tense silence.

“What have you done?”

“Have you not figured it out?” I raised my brows in theatrical surprise. When she didn’t reply, I added with a hint of pretentious arrogance, “Ah, and here I was hoping, given your old age, you would be smarter.” I waved the little sandwich in the air before swallowing it whole. “Rather disappointing, I must say.”

“Who are you?” the Queen asked, ignoring my comments, though I didn’t ignore the way her lip twitched. I let my own rage rise.

“You know exactly who I am . . . Lord. Of. Death . Of course.” The corner of my lips tugged upwards, but my eyes shifted into darkness. The whites swallowed completely, turning them into the blackest red. A blink—and they returned to their natural state.

“It’s not possible,” she objected, ignoring the truth lingering in the air.

“Ah”—I shook my finger at her—“it is possible. Just not for you.” I tilted my head to the side, observing her every expression, like a predator preparing to strike a fatal blow.

“You cannot kill me. The wild magic in me will not allow it,” the Queen snapped. Her shadows swirled around, growing with unease, as she clawed her chair tighter.

“And isn’t that the predicament that put us here in the first place?” I hissed, leaning back on my couch. Our glares locked, loathing each other’s presence. “But you know what you do with something you cannot kill, Insanaria?” I paused. She didn’t say a word, so I answered, “You capture it.”

“You cannot capture me. I am a Shadow Walker,” the Queen retorted, but her words lacked that victorious tone. And perhaps under other circumstances I would’ve enjoyed the doubt and panic she was fighting, but now I felt nothing. There was no place for anything but rage and vengeance to guide me.

One snap of my fingers and membrane-like shields, completely surrounding the castle, became visible to the human eye, to her. “Your current presence here begs to differ.” But she already knew that.

“How?” This time she didn’t bother objecting. She silently gawked at the reddish hue filling up the room as the blood shields glistened under the sun.

“Have you ever heard of blood magic?” I raised my brow, letting a few drops of blood float above my fingertips. “Similar to you, I carry my own kind of wild magic. And while yours is a result of accrued and stolen magic, mine is of a different nature. It’s somewhat of a curse, but over the years, I have found that even curses have their usefulness.” My gaze returned to her, piercing her with my glower. “Especially when someone threatens the only person I love.” At that, I dropped the playful mask, the mocking tone, letting her see the true monster underneath, as my eyes turned blood red. A monster that was kept on a short leash for so long, ready to lash out.

“You’ve crossed a line, Insanaria. One you cannot come back from. I would’ve taken away your kingdoms, and you could’ve lived your miserable life in exile. But now? Now that you’ve touched her . . . Now you shall beg for mercy, and I won’t hear it. You shall beg the gods, and I shall not head your prayers. You will pay for what you have done.” I gave her a promising frown. The fire within me churned, wanting to protect me, but I let the darkness rise. “I would have only taken your kingdom, but now, I shall take your peace, your solace, your sanity, your freedom. I shall destroy you until you are dust.”