Page 64 of Bloody Black

W e ? What does he mean, we?

My mind stutters, refuses to stitch the image together. I completely forget to breathe; that’s how dumbfounded I am by seeing him. It turns out that expecting the worst doesn’t mean you’re prepared for it. It just means that you’re less surprised when you turn out to be right.

Robb stands behind William, calm and freshly showered. Wearing the unmistakable garb of a member of the wedding party. His hand settles on William’s shoulder with an easy familiarity, like he’s trying to steady him. Not like a soldier. Not like a lieutenant, but like… like…

A friend.

He’s providing support to his friend .

This must be a trick of the light. A hallucination. Blood loss. Maybe I’m already dead, and this is hell. A hell of my own mind, of my own worst imaginings.

The coldness of his gaze hurts worse than the wound in my side. Memories flicker through me like lightning: the jail, the galley. How he cried out my name before he came. Everything about this moment is so wrong, I cannot process it. I think I say his name. Whisper it.

Robb.

All of it lies? None of it was genuine? No. I don’t believe it. It cannot be fake, not all of it. It couldn’t. Unless… unless… no. I must have missed something. There’s some reason he’s here. I need Robb to tell me. I need him to help me make sense of this.

Surely, I haven’t fallen into the same trap again. Xandretta must have let him go. She must have trusted him. Or he’d cut himself free, and snuck onto land. I cannot fathom what I’m seeing; my mind is spinning.

Domino shakes her head almost imperceptibly, warning me not to speak. Samson sways where he kneels, his eye swollen shut, blood staining the collar of his shirt. Xandretta missing. Dead, probably. Teach bleeding out on the lawn. And now Robb, betraying me.

It’s only then, in the silence, that I notice a shrine in one corner, my wedding outfit: my dress, and even those damn pearl earrings.

My shoes are polished, their diamond buckles gleaming.

Each piece is laid out with reverence, as though I’d stepped out of them yesterday and might return to put them on.

William’s gaze follows mine. “Do you like it? I kept it all.” He sneers. “To prove my undying love and loyalty.”

“None of it was real.” The words are for William. But my eyes are on Robb. Robb, who just a few hours ago—

William laughs, fiddles with the hilt of his bejeweled sword. “You came all this way to ask me that?”

No. I didn’t come here to ask him anything. I came here to kill him. But as for his friend, the man standing behind him… I cannot tear my gaze from his face.

“I suppose I should tell you my side of the story. That would be fair, wouldn’t it? How your father razed our entire city? Killed our families?” William’s voice rises as he speaks, veins standing out in his neck.

“Robb here is the one who planned it all. Two boys, forced to join your father’s army. Rising through the ranks over the years, making friends. Eventually, we knew that we’d have an opportunity. We’d destroy your kingdom from the inside out, Robb said.”

William claps him on the shoulder. “I didn’t think it could be done. Two rats from Rivelle? Joining the infamous Celestian army? Surely that would arouse suspicion.”

It can’t be true.

“He assured me they wouldn’t suspect anything. That the king and his men were too caught up in their own petty politics, too rich to notice much around them. And he was right.”

My gaze still can’t leave his face. His wonderful, beautiful face, that I’d just held in my hands last night. How I kissed him, over and over…

“We were there for months, years, making our plans to kill the king. But we couldn’t find an opening. Couldn’t figure out how to reach him. Until we saw you. Her Royal Highness, fighting in that tournament.”

Our plans. My heart is sinking. Drowning. Swept up in dark waves.

“You could have faced either of us, and oh, how we argued. Seduce you? Kill you immediately? It was a stroke of luck that you picked me.”

William chuckles, then continues. “Unlucky for you, that is. The plan changed–because we realized that we could kill your father, make it look like an accident. You’d never be the wiser, and I would be king. I could end the war against our country.”

I can’t stop staring at Robb, waiting for any sign. Anything to reassure me. He steadfastly ignores my eyes.

“Robb here obsessed over your schedule. Your body. Your favorite book of poetry.” William smiles, a terrible, sinister thing. “Coaching me. There was no chance you wouldn’t fall for it. But in the end, I still didn’t believe. Not until you actually fell in love with me.”

Color rises in his cheeks, across his pale skin. He’s only an arm’s length away.

My fingertips brush against my thigh, but goddammit, my dagger isn’t there. I must have left it with the guards. I can’t pull my sword; that would be too obvious.

William scrutinizes me, my stricken expression. “Or maybe… You fell in love with him.” He laughs ruefully. “So unlucky, to be tricked by your two worst enemies. But I suppose you always did wear your heart on your sleeve. Changing your name doesn’t change who you are, does it, Blackbeard? ”

His hands form fists at his sides.

“I can tell that you fucked her, Robb , ” William says suddenly. “Look at her face.” He’s jealous. Even though he despises me, even though he’d spent years planning to kill me, he didn’t like others touching his things. Despite all the harm he’s done, William still feels entitled to me.

Finally, finally, Robb looks at me.

His eyes level with mine. Hold for a beat. Two. Three.

To Robb, he says, “Did you fuck her the way you always wanted? Like a dog on the floor? Was she panting for it, the way she was with me?”

“Of course,” Robb says, emotionless. “She asked me to put it in her mouth.”

Something in me sparks. Ignites. Bursts into flames. Robb Maynard is a liar. I never had my mouth anywhere near his dick, not even once. As soon as I get my dagger back, I’m going to remove it from his body and burn it in a fireplace.

William smirks, looks deeply into my eyes. “Was he better, Princess? Did you scream his name?”

I did. I lost track of how many times.

William can read my expression, even if I don’t say the words aloud. Disappointment and loathing war for dominance in his expression, and for a moment, he’s speechless. Then he exhales through clenched teeth, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “You treacherous little whore,” he murmurs.

While I’m thinking about how to respond, Robb steps behind me and wrenches my arms behind my back. He pulls my arm higher, grinding my shoulder until white sparks of pain flash through me.

“She was reaching for her dagger,” he says to William. “Taunting you to lure you in. She’ll cut your throat if you get close enough.” Robb tugs my arms back tighter, and my shoulders scream in agony.

“If I had my dagger, cutting your throat would be my first priority,” I announce. In this case, I have one in my boot, one hidden behind my back. Though it’s better if both of them think otherwise.

William watches me struggle, almost idly, as if my discomfort is punctuation for his story. Then he licks his lips. “Vicious little thing, aren’t you? I suppose the life of piracy has toughened you up. What I wouldn’t give to have you under me, fighting me again.”

Robb inhales sharply, then he tosses the dagger hidden behind my back to the side. Leaving me weaponless. Completely at their mercy.

William circles us slowly. His boots whisper over the marble, the sound deafening. His fingers brush my jaw, just a whisper. “I should’ve finished you that night,” he murmurs. “Done it all myself.”

I can’t move because of how tightly Robb grips me. His breath is warm against my ear, steady, unhurried. There’s no tremor in him, nothing I can read. Only a soldier and duty. What he’s doing wounds me more than William’s blade ever could.

“I remember the nightgown you wore,” William admits, running his hands along my bodice. “White with lace sleeves. And how the bridal room smelled like lilies.”

He leans in. Inhales at the curve of my throat. “Thank you for returning to me.”

“How could you do this?” I ask. Sickened by the turn of events, I’m facing William, but I’m talking to him. To Robb.

Meanwhile, William reaches into each of my pockets, searching me. When he finds the sharktooth necklace, he draws it out, holds it in his palm. “What’s this ugly old thing?” he asks.

My stomach churns. Behind me, Robb says nothing. Just anchors me in place, like I’m a doll to be presented. A prize to be passed between them.

Bored, William tosses my necklace aside.

“I’ll start carving along these lines. Right here,” William whispers, running a finger along the bargains on my throat. “Then you’ll remember who you belong to. Won’t you, Annie? ”

This is it. This is how I die for the second time. I still cannot believe that the idea to kill me was Robb’s. It seems so diabolical; it doesn’t match anything I know of him. He’d never given the faintest suggestion that he was capable of such treachery.

My eyes drift closed. Reviewing. Analyzing.

Searching my memories. I flashback to the galley.

His breath, his face, his kiss. All those beautiful words he’d whispered to me in the dark.

I think about the shark teeth in the jar, and recall the poem I found in his desk drawer.

I see it so clearly in my mind: it’s neat, precise handwriting, the slope of the R, the pitch of the Y.

I don’t know why, and it seems ill-timed, but I also remember the note tucked under my plate on my wedding night. You’re in danger. Meet me outside.

The realization crashes into place with absolute, unshakeable clarity: those notes were in the same handwriting .