Page 45 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood (Tales So Wicked #2)

Lenore

I t feels like I’ve been to hell and back.

Maybe I have. Images of a dark castle and a black glass mountain flicker in my memories, not clear enough to be sure, but too present to ignore.

Was that the Underworld? Did I die? Again.

Silly question. Of course I did. The very real memory of my heart ceasing to beat is one I wish I could forget.

At least now I know for certain I can bring myself back.

There was a moment last summer when I thought I’d done the same.

It was late July during an unexpected thunderstorm.

I’d been caught far out in the woods, visiting my furry friends.

The rain had been pouring so hard I couldn’t see farther than the hand held in front of my face.

Mistaking a gnarled birch tree for the large oak that guides my pathway home, I veered in the wrong direction.

The drop-off came up beneath me so sharp and fast that I was already hitting the bottom before I could comprehend the fall. The snap that cracked through my ears is a sound I’ll always remember. My spine? My neck? I lay limp, rain filling my throat, unable to move as darkness closed in around me.

The next thing I remember, I was gasping, rolling to my side, and coughing up a lungful of rainwater.

At the time, I assumed I’d merely blacked out from the fall.

Visions of stars—so bright it hurt to stare at them—surrounded by the blackest night skies, lay woven through my thoughts. Another glimpse of Harrow’s realm?

Now, I can see that terrible fall for what it really was: death.

Which makes this severe case of food poisoning my third experience rising from the grave. I hope there isn’t a limit on self-resurrections. What if there’s a cap? Like those wives’ tales about cats—they get nine lives. If it’s a similar situation for me, I’ve already used up a third of my freebies.

The aching in my muscles lessens as I make the trek back to the castle.

I’m finally able to loosen my grip on Miriam.

The sweet doe has been my crutch since I awoke.

Zinnia sticks tightly by my other side, but the little fawn is too short to be of any physical help.

Emotional support is just as valuable—and looks extra cute in the form of a tiny deer.

There’s a steady mist gliding through the forest, leaving the trees lush and the forest floor damp.

I’m going to look worse for wear by the time I make it to the castle.

Even after my attempts to scrub it clean with fresh moss, the black, bloody vomit stains are still prominent down the front of my dirty grey dress.

What will they say when they see me? I can’t bear to imagine what Cassius will think.

Cassius. By the gods?—

With the distraction of my brutally painful death, I forgot about my sweet prince.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I weigh my options. I could return to the cabin and wait. I’m feeling perfectly fine now, and Cassius did say he was going to find help. Surely he would have crossed my path by now if he were coming back this same way.

The sky is dreary, the sun peeking out from behind billowy grey clouds. It looks to be close to high noon. “Was I out all night?” Miriam turns her soft brown snout up to me, shaking it slightly. “Longer?”

A gentle nod of confirmation. The idea of lying, vulnerable in the woods for so long, awakens anxiety in my stomach. “I was out for two days and no one found me?”

Miriam gives me a huff, shaking her head once more. “Three days?” She stomps her hooves. “Four?” Another gentle nod.

I was out for four days . How is it no one found me? Thank goodness for my animals. When I awoke, I found them surrounding me. My little protectors. I never expect it, but I do appreciate the way they show their gratitude for the lives I was able to restore to them.

If it really has been four days, then I doubt Cassius is still waiting at the cottage. I’d better get back to the castle. My father will be worried sick, and my mother…

Fresh pain stabs at my heart. She won’t be there. Her death is going to be impossible to accept.

Guilt overwhelms me. My poor father. He must be in shambles after losing his true love, and I just left.

That was incredibly selfish. He loved my mother in a way that I’ve always dreamed of being loved.

Their marriage was arranged, but lucky for them, the attraction was mutual.

They fell head over heels for each other.

Such a romantic feat is not often achieved these days.

It’s part of the reason I was so devastated when I was promised to King Hoff.

I knew if I married him, I would never get the love story I’ve dreamed of.

The mention of love turns my thoughts, unwantedly, toward Harrow.

The anger and betrayal are still so fresh in my heart.

Even worse, I sent him away when all I really wanted was for him to comfort me.

I was cruel to him. Time away gave me space to replay his words.

He doesn’t choose when people die. Which means her death may not have been his fault.

What an odd conversation I’m having with myself. Death is so very complicated.

My legs grow weary by the time the castle comes into view.

The original trek was much faster on horseback.

An unexpected crunching beneath my boots has my gaze turning toward my feet.

How long have I been zoning out? Lowering myself, I brush my hand across the ground.

It’s covered in stiff brown grass. Gone are the silky green ribbons that usually top this meadow.

As I lift my gaze, disbelief blacks out my thoughts.

It feels like the wind has been knocked from my lungs.

Everything is dead.

The trees lining the grounds, the rose vines climbing up the castle walls, and the wisteria blooms that should be raining down above the gates are all dead.

Grasping my skirts, I take off in a run. “Stay behind,” I call back to my animal friends. Something feels very, very wrong.

The guards call out as I approach, swiftly opening the front gate.

I can’t hear their words. My ears have been filled with a piercing ringing.

The gardens are gone. I move as swiftly as I can, making my way through the various green areas and floral works of art that have been around since before I was born. They’re all gone.

Every flower, shrub, tree, and petal has withered. A sea of decay fills my vision. What happened here? Is this all to do with my mother’s death? I need to find my father.

Passing through the barren courtyard, I stop in front of the large oak door that leads indoors.

A massive bunch of dried vines has been twisted into an infinity symbol and nailed to the top of the door.

It is a symbolic wreath crafted from local herbs and flowers.

It should not be here. This specific shape and symbolism is used only for weddings.

I shove the doors open and am greeted by the sight of Gestin racing toward me. His armor clangs as he moves. “Princess. Praise the gods. We feared the worst. Are you hurt?” He eyes the dark stains on the front of my clothing.

“I am unharmed.”

He pulls me into an embrace. His touch is surprisingly out of character but so welcome. I wrap my arms around him. He may not be blood, but he’s family. “Where have you been?”

I pull back, scanning his dark eyes. “Why did you not search for me?”

A strained intensity passes over his furrowed brow. “We tried. Your father called off the search mere hours after it began.”

Hurt slices through me. “Why would he do that?”

Gestin lowers his voice. “A great many things have changed since you last stepped foot in the castle. Your father is married. As of last night, a new queen sits the throne.”

Shock and confusion muddle my thoughts. “What? Who?”

Gestin glances around before speaking. His caution sends uneasiness swirling through me. “A stranger. Beautiful but… mysterious. Your father announced their betrothal without warning.”

“But my mother—” My voice cracks. “The flowers have all died.”

Gestin nods. “A mass wilting occurred within hours of the marriage ceremony. It continues to spread throughout the kingdom.”

“I need to see my father.” I move away, but Gestin steps in my path.

“Caution is needed, Princess. Your father is not himself. Stay close to the guards. My men, not hers. Keep those you trust nearby.”

His warning amplifies my anxiety. Sweat coats my palms. A somber energy hovers over the castle halls. I need to get to my father. Surely there’s some rational explanation for this. If he can only explain, put my worries at ease, then maybe things will be alright.

The throne room doors fly open. Cassius rushes out.

His tawny eyes grow wider than I’ve ever seen them at the sight of me.

Shock stains his handsome features. I throw myself in his arms, allowing my dirty, bloodstained clothes to press up against his impeccable royal-blue and silver attire.

Cassius’s warmth comforts me down to my marrow.

“I… Princess, I’m… What happened?” He peers down at me with such confusion.

“I went back to the cottage and you were gone. We tried to find you, but your father commanded us all back to the castle for the celebration . I’ve been unable to sleep, I’ve been so worried.

I tried to sneak out last night but there are new guards, new rules. ”

“What do you mean?”

Cassius ushers me to a darkened corner. “I fear it may no longer be safe for you here. Lenore”—the informality of my name on his lips is both comforting and concerning—“something is amiss. You should leave, go back to the cottage. I can meet you there.”

I hold a hand up to halt his words. “This is my home. There is no safer place.” Gestin’s warning flares to life in my mind. “Besides, I cannot just run away… again.”

“Please. Come with me.” There’s a strained pleading in his eyes.