Page 33 of Of Sockets Of Stitches (Unworldly City #4)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Return of one

And not the other

What mysteries control us.

I patted the steed’s neck and took a single step, then glanced back.

Tonight had been a sore reminder that I could lose my monsters at any time.

Words could not be left unsaid. “Thank you for bringing me here with all speed, dear Life. What a reliable monster you are, always there when I need you most. You have truly been an exquisite gift.”

Life tossed his head, and a ripple ran through the mount’s splinters.

I walked on through the gothic halls of a palace that once felt like the safest place in Vitale.

The openings to the dawn sky were ornate with carved cobwebs and thorns.

Twisted gargoyles hung high in protection and threat.

Rich artwork. Candelabras. This princedom reflected the complex beauty and intricate power of See. His mystery and agelessness too .

“I did not expect an honored guest,” rang his voice.

Even thoughts of his tone, always so mild, had occupied so much of my monsterdom. I looked down the hall into ever milky eyes. “I did not expect to honor you, sir.”

“Princess Raise is lost to us,” he said.

A prince consort of seeing would of course know. Or rather, he would have known.

I trailed my fingers over the chest of a statue of armor. “You did not warn me.”

“Warnings carry consequences. You had to meet that moment fearlessly and na?vely.”

I could choose to remark on his highhandedness, but then… his tone was so mild. Always so mild. I had only ever celebrated the uniquities of monsters, so how could I find offense in his?

“But if I heal the Changes union, then you will warn me?” I had picked the Changes randomly from the number of princesses and their counterparts, but See stiffened, then relaxed.

He hardly did either of each, but enough that a queen could notice. I floated closer, unspeaking.

“Their healing will be different,” he answered, and the mildness of his tone was greater. Rage. I had learned once upon a night, that increasing mildness from this king meant rage.

“Indeed,” I murmured. “Will you warn a queen, though? Or must she be fearless and na?ve?”

“In that healing, I will not. In others, there is no need. You are aware of what shall happen.”

I circled behind him, trailing a fingertip over his shoulders. His shoulders stiffened again, and this time they did not relax. “If you choose when to warn a queen, or wait until a warning is redundant, then what is the point of a seeing monster?”

“I am ever blinder, Perantiqua, as you know. I studied the futures in great detail during your six-month absence, but I am left to whittle away and guess at what futures remain with each of your actions, and with each action of lesser monsters too. I cannot be sure that I am correct. There is great harm in providing incorrect information, or even in providing the correct information. Warnings carry consequences,” he repeated.

I stood before him. “Unless I should enter the haze again. Then you might see how the futures properly lay. For a time. Until then you must whittle.”

His thin lips curved. “I should imagine you like the idea of blindfolding your prince consort.”

From the warmth in his voice, I could surmise his ideas of blindfolding included nudity and perhaps a bedroom, but the idea did not appeal when black sickness had just taken a beloved monster from me.

I turned from him.

“She will return,” See said to my back.

My eyes widened. “You speak of my duchess?”

“I do. When all is healed, she will return. And that is the point of me.”

His large hands cupped my elbows, and he pressed his lips against my ear. “A seeing monster provides his queen with hope when she needs it, and only then. For she is very capable in her crown. A prince consort stands with his queen, now they have transcended love.”

The words carried a subtle wisp with them, almost too faint to grab at. I murmured, “And against her when required.”

As I must do to him.

I felt his breath on my neck. But I would not shiver in delight. I would not.

He rumbled, “It is nearly dawn, and I was about to depart for your queendom. Why did you come here? As much as I hope that you came for my company, I fathom that it is not the only answer.”

Why had I come here? For comfort? Perhaps, though I could not admit to that yet. He was not the only monster who could keep secrets of the present and future .

From a deep place of musing, I replied, “To think that I once followed your princes here as a human. To think how simple that choice was—the choice to beg a skull for employment. How life has altered.”

His breath and grip slipped away as I wandered forward.

I passed down the hall and to the stairway beyond. His gothic kingdom had sucked inward to a princedom as the bellows of an accordion might collapse when squeezed. Everything of his previous kingdom was here, but in a more restricted fashion.

The stairway did not reach as high, and the short hallway that had existed between the stairs and his throne room was gone.

The top of the landing was now inside the domed room, and a seat resided there instead of a throne.

The seat was still regal and comfortable, and befitting of a prince consort.

The dome was still more open to the night sky than closed, and perfectly designed for a seeing king.

See would continue to sit here and see , yes, but he would not sit here as often as before. Because a prince consort must support his queen. He must give me hope when needed . I could not feel the truth of his purpose in my heart. How could a monster exist just to nurture and uphold a queen?

That had so rarely been the relationship between us.

I lingered by the seat in the center of his domed room, so open to the night sky. I had presented to him here, time and again. As a human. As a new monster. In confusion of lust. He had provided a stability and security for me in that time.

“Take care, Perantiqua, to not become lost in longing for the past. What we were cannot be what we are, and what we are cannot be denied.”

“Broken.” I faced him. “That is what we are, sir. How is it that you do not long for a simpler and more innocent time?”

“I have seen all that we will be. What we first were was simple and innocent, yes, but lacking in richness and complexity. Our romance was one-dimensional and pale. No, we were never meant for that.”

“We are meant for everything or nothing.”

He tilted his head. “Would you expect a lesser trial in the quest for a queen’s romance?”

Truthfully? No. I had learned well of such things.

See’s chest expanded, and his quiet words passed through the openings of the dome and out and upward to the cold moon. “You came here this dawn to understand the past. To make sense of the future.”

I frowned. That did ring in my mind and heart. “Perhaps so.”

“What have you discovered?”

I did not answer, and instead walked past him to the stairway. I descended until spotting a large dining chamber. A grand hallway covered in lewd artworks used to lead to the dining chamber, but that was gone.

I stopped by the entrance, recalling how See had embedded me in the stone wall and ravaged me with his power. Such simple lust. Such simple delivery of pleasure. “There have not been many times when our pleasure felt free.”

He strode past to the very chair he had sat in to ravage me. In and out. Part of me was curious to repeat the venture to better feel the contrast of then to now.

See said, “When your mind could not fathom the sight of me, you felt far freer in lust and feeling. Once all of me was visible, particularly my face, a barrier formed in you.”

“My queendom was forming. My power and the deep parts of my mind knew that our romance must alter.”

I glanced between him and the wall. No, I could not repeat that exchange. I had wanted to be stuck in his wall back then. I had liked the pretense, but now my power was undeniable. No wall could hold me but the wall of ancients.

See remained silent as I mused .

And again, I walked on. Down the stairs and into a bed chamber. Moonlight sparkled through the openings and highlighted the prettiness of the feminine room. The chandelier. The wardrobe. The intricate cobwebs glimmering here and there.

A pretty chamber for a princess.

I had woken from slumber here more than once. “This was your dream.”

See circled the room. “This was the longing of a lonely heart. This was a wish, and a foolishness, for I could see centuries into the future—as far as I dared to sit and look. There was no princess for me.”

I swept a hand over the black bedspread. “Because you were blind to romance.”

He acknowledged that with a nod. “I was. So I was meant to despair. I was meant to feel great loneliness. I was not meant to receive the gift of hope for a reason.”

I looked up. “I have not spent time reflecting on the matter, but there is sense in what you say.”

See said, “They wished me to be a desperate and hopeless creature. For when a monster did arrive—one who was as magnificent as she was beautiful—then I would not hesitate to erase all of my beliefs and values in an instant. I would go to war on an irrational whim. I would gladly sink into madness and jealousy over her. I would covet her looks and sighs and groans, and place her above me always. Hardest of all—I would learn to deny her guidance and love and support when necessary to deserve her. For she would be so strong, the strongest, and I was content to lurk beneath her as long as I could deserve her. So ancients blinded me to you with good reason, and they delayed your arrival so that I might watch the romances of other kings and see how they were weak in love or lust or indifference or ambition.”

“They convinced you of the need to transcend love and made you desperate enough to pursue it at all costs.” I could not move my focus from See. He had always possessed this power to captivate when reciting tale and reason.

“They did, and I am grateful to them.”