Page 36 of Manor of Wind and Nightmares (Fae of Brytwilde #3)

He reached to clasp my face in his hands, cradling it, studying me like he cherished me. My eyes burned, and I was sure I was undone. This would be it, the thing that ruined me forever.

“You are kind and gentle and thoughtful,” he murmured. “Practical and smart.” He laughed. “You give and you give...you are the opposite of everything I was told to expect, everything I feared. You are more than I hoped for—because you are a true friend, a true soulmate.”

“Captain...” I caught myself. “Prince Kaede...”

“Please, I have to tell you.” Tears glistened in his eyes.

“Maybe it is madness. Maybe it is too soon. But I know you felt something too, and I hope, if you can forgive me, it can blossom into what I have known for a while now.” For a moment, I thought he’d lean forward and brush his lips against mine, and the idea made my heart lurch, a sickening jolt of panic and pain.

But he only leaned closer, letting the words caress my face.

“I love you. I’m wholly yours. Not just for an alliance, or politics, but for.

..” He swallowed. “For a lifetime we could build together. A future. I...” He shook his head.

“There are no words to fully describe it, nothing that can do justice to the way my soul is alight in your presence. The way your heart calls to mine.”

I blinked, but it was too late. A tear escaped down my cheek, and before Kaede could brush his thumb to wipe it away, I tore myself free of his grasp. I shook my head, muttering something that was nonsensical, even to me.

“I expect nothing from you...” Prince Kaede was saying, his words barely making it past the ringing in my ears.

Father.

I didn’t hesitate. Couldn’t let another moment go by when this whirlwind of emotions and Kaede’s achingly tender, loving gaze were threatening to sway my resolve.

I drew the dagger hidden in the inner pocket of my dress, the one my maids had so carefully sewn into it the night before as part of the “final alterations” I’d convinced the queen were necessary.

I didn’t meet his gaze, like the coward I was.

Lavinia.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out.

Callista.

It was a clean stab to his chest, met with no resistance. He was too shocked to move, to fight.

Kaede released a strangled gasp at the same moment I lifted my chin, and our eyes met.

The moment stretched out, everything happening too swiftly and too slowly all at once.

I wrenched the blade back. It was too late to undo anything. The horror, the finality of it, seized me as blood streamed from the wound, coating my hand in slick, warm gore.

His mouth opened and he reached for me, as if even now, he couldn’t believe I’d betrayed him.

Unshed tears stung my eyes. I was past the point of crying any more.

Past the point of feeling anything but a spreading numbness, overtaking my limbs until I wondered if I could run, could escape, or if all my hopeful plans to return to my family were for naught. Maybe it would be better to collapse beside him, to accept my fate.

“B-Briar?” His fingers brushed against a lock of my hair, threading through the strands. He coughed, and blood splattered his chin.

His expression hardened, pain tightening the lines of his face. “An assassin, all along,” he huffed with a bitter laugh, collapsing onto the rug, weakness already consuming his body.

My eyes landed on the hand pressed to his chest, blood seeping between his fingers, and snagged on the signet ring he bore—one bearing the Willlowbark crest. One he hadn’t worn as just the captain.

His chest heaved. Far too much blood soaked the front of his shirt, the rug under him... He couldn’t speak, could scarcely breathe.

I reached for him, and he frowned, lifting his hand. A gust of wind shoved me away, knocking me to the floor so forcefully I lost my breath. Choking for air, I gaped at the ceiling. Kaede couldn’t cry out to his guards, but the pain reminded me that I had to flee.

My escape was a frenzied blur of shadows and dancing torchlight as I rushed through the passage adjoining our rooms, twisting through the bowels of the palace.

Somewhere along the way, I dropped the dagger, sick with disgust. In my own empty quarters, I scrubbed the blood from my hands and changed into the only nondescript outfit that had come with me from Emberglade: a dark pair of leggings, tunic, and hooded cloak to conceal my face.

Outside in the gardens, the party continued, Kaede’s mother and sister and subjects celebrating as he died.

Abandoning the heady aromas of wine and florals and food, the thrumming, wild music that pulsed in my bones and through my veins, I crept unnoticed off the palace grounds.

No one stopped me when I exited the palace through the servants’ gate, for no one had yet discovered Kaede.

Winding a lonely route through the countryside, sweat coated my back and tears wet my cheeks. My lungs burned with every step I took. Under a starry sky, with no one else to witness my pain, I at last allowed sobs to wrack my body, let myself give in to my grief.

Try as they might, the royal healers would be unable to save Prince Kaede from the wound I’d inflicted. I’d coated my blade with demon’s breath, an Emberglade poison for which there was no known antidote.

I was a shell of myself, numb of all but a pressing need to find my family and ensure their safety, to reassure myself that King Wystan would keep his word.

There was nothing else left for me.

I’d left my heart in the palace with a dying prince.