Page 67 of Bloody Black

A s we enter the throne room, the air buzzes, like the entire castle is holding its breath. Most of the guests have fled, although a good number of them are hiding in corners, cowering, waiting to see who emerges the victor.

“It’s cold as a witch’s teat in here,” Tremaine mutters, glancing up at the domed ceiling, at the marble columns and blue tapestries.

Down on one end of the room is my throne, and alongside it sits a black trunk. It’s shockingly similar to the one they put me in, and there’s the briefest of hesitations before I open it.

This is it.

The queen’s starlight crown is nestled in velvet, sitting inside a trunk alongside my mother’s earrings. Sapphires shaped like teardrops wrap its surface, nestled in silver filigree. More beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen.

Slowly, my hands trembling with reverence, I pick it up. It’s heavier than I thought it would be, its silver edges sharp. It doesn’t fit my palm nearly as well as a sword, but that’s because I’ve never held it before. Not even on my coronation.

“Wow, it’s… is that real?” Domino laughs uncomfortably, seeing so much wealth.

“Don’t steal anything,” I chide, still holding the crown in my hands.

Samson gives a low whistle. “Silver for her tongue, and sapphires for her eyes.”

It’s been locked in a trunk for more than a decade, ever since my mother died.

Robb stands next to me. His face is pale, and he’s noticeably grimacing in pain.

“Why are you always getting injured?” I grumble. “Need I remind you that you aren’t allowed to die unless I ask you to?”

“Next time I’ll be sure to get your permission.” He presses the wound on his chest, which is still bleeding. “How do you feel?”

“Ready to resume the throne. Also, angry at you. Furious, really.”

“I am so, so, so, sorry, Anne. For what I did. For who I am. For failing you every step of the way. Please give me a chance to explain myself.”

Since he looks like he’ll faint at any moment, I close the distance between us and put my arms around his waist. Then I look up into his handsome face, my gaze skimming over his scruffy chin, his nose, his pleading green eyes.

We have so much in common, he and I. Twin flames, two sides of the same coin.

Maybe that’s why I can feel, can sense, all the emotion he’s holding back.

Resigned, I give him a faint smile. “Some other time, maybe.”

With an exhale of relief, Robb hugs me, buries his face in my hair. In response, I hug him back, closing my eyes and relishing his touch. Drawing strength from him as I stroke my hands down his broad back.

My father ruined his life, so Robb ruined mine. But he also saved me, and I have saved him. We are, as far as I’m concerned, even.

“It’s over,” I tell him. “We made it. We’re alright.”

It’s while we’re holding each other that red mist creeps along the marble floors, wreathing around Tremaine’s boots. A moment later, Rokhur emerges from a crack between the balcony doors.

“Congratulations, Anne. You finally have the justice you wanted. Now that the king has fallen, Celestia will have its queen.”

Her smile is nothing short of sinister. Rokhur glides nearer, and the scent hits me: rot and seawater, like a shark that’s washed up and lain too long in the sun.

I’ve seen enough of the world to know that nothing ever comes without a cost, and I can feel that price rising now, curling through the mist at my feet. Every instinct in me screams to run, but there’s nowhere to go. This is my house; this is my throne.

The room feels smaller with each step she takes.

The air thickens, clogging my throat, and her sulfuric stench is like brine on my tongue.

I force myself to stand my ground, but dread churns in my stomach as I realize she’s come to collect—and that I’ve been lying to myself all this time.

Our bargain was never just about William. It was always about me.

“You’ve had your feast. Now it’s time for me to dine.”

Still, I argue. “You needed a human body, and I gave you many. Hundreds, in fact. ”

“I’ve worn plenty of them. But I’ve grown particular in my old age. I can’t be content with a cobble of rotting pieces, meant to hold me over, no more than you could be happy with being a fisherman’s wife. One must, of course, be selective. I require strength and agility, a body worthy of me.”

Rokhur’s pupils dilate, glowing like embers. “I waited decades for someone like you. Beautiful. Strong. Cruel. Then William provided you.”

“Provided me?” The word is small and sharp, and I laugh nervously as my pulse stutters.

“Unintentionally, of course. It was fated; meant to be. You wanted your revenge, and by giving you justice, I would receive mine.” The demon drifts closer, and her black lips peel back in a smile, revealing her mangled smile.

My fingers tighten around the crown until the edges bite my palms. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh. Well. The man who put me in that box was your father. Trying to keep your kingdom safe. The one good thing he ever did, and his daughter immediately set me free.”

She smiles. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

I consider fighting—I do. Even though I know how powerful she is. Even though her bargains wrap my neck like a noose. But ultimately, ultimately, I know it would be folly. Enough people have already paid the price of my obsession; I cannot rationalize it anymore. Not this time.

“If I submit to you, you’ll let them go free?”

“Anne!” Tremaine shouts from across the room. “Don’t do this!”

“Aye, Captain. I agree.” Rokhur bows her head in acceptance.

“Unharmed,” I say, just to make sure it’s noted specifically. “And no captivity.”

“Unharmed.” Rokhur smiles again. “I will neither hold them prisoner nor interrupt their peace.”

There are probably millions of ways in which she could twist my words and ensure they’re miserable for the rest of their lives, but only Xandretta would have been clever enough to slip out of the many traps that Rokhur might set. In the end, I’ll just have to believe it.

“Anne.” Robb tugs me aside. “What are you agreeing to?”

I turn to Robb, knowing we don’t have time. That’s run out, and before Rokhur takes what’s left of me, I have something to say.

“I was dead from the moment we met. And whatever love we might have, it’s doomed.” My fingers cup his jaw, stroke along his skin. “I had nothing to live for, which is why killing William was all that I bargained for. Nothing else mattered to me, not then.”

“Don’t.” The way he says it nearly undoes me. But it doesn’t change my mind.

“I was so lonely. So terribly, horribly lonely. This second chance has been my adventure. Full of friendship, joy… maybe a bit too much bloodshed, actually. But being Captain Blackbeard is the best thing that has ever happened to me. And the second best has been you.”

Robb is vehemently shaking his head before I can even finish. “Let me undo this. Let me make another deal. ”

Rokhur’s laugh is as ugly as her face. “Why would I do that? I have everything I want.” Rokhur settles onto my throne, nestles my crown into her hair. She strokes the armrest reverently, as if it were made for her all along.

Revenge has a cost. A price to be paid. This time, I’m not going to make anyone else pay for me.

I glance over at Domino. She’s clutching Samson’s hand as if it’s a lifeline, horrified. “I’m lucky to have you. And I’m so sad to lose you.”

I kiss Robb softly, sweetly, pressing my forehead to his. Then I step back and sink to my knees, still facing him, in front of my own throne, putting myself at the demon’s feet. I made a promise, and I keep my word.

“Be quick,” I order, my voice firm, and never taking my eyes off him. If I’m going to die, I want their faces to be the last thing that I see. And not the demon that will kill me.

“Finish this. And take what you came for.”

Rokhur’s red mist trails along my cheek, unbearably cold. The room mutes, like I’m sinking underwater. My tongue goes numb, and the taste of iron coats my teeth. As for my sight, the edges of the room blur, colors melt, and all that remains are vague shapes.

Yet, when my breasts collapse against my ribs, and my teeth show through my cheeks, I am still alive. Still conscious when my eyelashes fall out.

Rokhur takes and takes. Once twisted, now she becomes perfect. Hair like a raven’s wing sprouts on her head, falling silk-smooth to her waist. Her pallid skin glows with stolen color. She hums, a rumbling sigh of ecstasy, as her eyes transform into rich hazel .

My mother’s eyes. My father’s dark hair. Because she is me, and I am her.

Red mist wraps around me, lifting me from the floor, radiating from my pores.

Robb shouts, clawing toward me, Domino and Samson holding him back.

My corpse falls, the last of my energy drained. Rokhur wrings every last bit of my humanity, my goodness, wrenching my soul away. The doors burst open, flinging back and crashing into the walls.

“Am I too late? Xandretta demands. “Did I miss everything?”

The entire group stands frozen, entirely unsure how to reply, and her bulging fish eyes survey the room. Me, the ghoul, patched and rotting. Rokhur, on the throne, a replica of Anne, my crown sitting on her head.

Xandretta sizes up the situation instantly. As she feared, the demon called in her bargain at the worst possible opportunity. Everything we fought for, stolen at the last minute.

Anne. Even though she’s completely across the room, and I don’t see her lips move, I hear Xandretta clearly. She’s assessing, analyzing. Her clever mind is trying to figure out a path forward. But there’s nothing.

“I wish we had more time. Years and years of being with you. But I don’t,” I tell them. As my eyes slip closed, I reach for Robb, and he clasps the bones of my hand.

“Rokhur, wait!” Xandretta calls out. “Before you kill her, I have a request.”