Page 41 of Ringmaster (The Kingdom of Shadow & Bone #1)

Mercy

“Mercy, wake up.” My mother’s voice hisses inches from my face.

I crack one eye open, confused as to why she’s waking me. Did I oversleep? “Please… just a few more minutes,” I beg, exhausted from my strange dreams.

“He’s here,” my mother whisper-shouts, “And I don’t know what to do.”

Blinking and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up in bed. “Azrael’s here?”

“Yes, and he’s brought a bunch of people with him.” Her voice is strained.

“Okay, I’m coming.” I pull my worn robe over my nightgown, fastening the belt in a tight knot.

The floors are cool beneath my bare feet as I follow my mother down the hall. Sure enough, she leads me to the kitchen where Azrael is waiting. My heart skips a beat when I see him. Dark hair falls across his crystal-blue eyes, which threaten to hypnotize me when they catch mine.

I giggle, covering my mouth with my hand. Goddess bless him. He’s dressed for a hard day’s work—plain trousers, an undershirt clinging to his chest, and a belt. A black button-down hangs over the back of the chair like an afterthought. I wouldn’t mind one bit if he took his undershirt off, too.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks, reaching for me.

His fingers wrap around my wrist and I soar across the space between us, landing in his embrace—blushing. “Azrael, my mom is watching.”

A mischievous smile spreads from ear to ear. “So I shouldn’t do this—?” He firmly grabs my chin and brings his lips to meet mine.

It’s soft, gentle, and utterly swoon-worthy. The tenderness with which he restrains himself—kissing me so sensually, barely touching me at all—is more promise of what’s to come than reality. I melt.

He pulls away. “Sorry,” he breathes against my ear, nipping it just slightly as he takes a step away.

“Where would you like to begin?”

I’m forced to look at my mother, cheeks flushed with embarrassment from Azrael’s open display of affection in front of her. I thought she’d be upset, but when I finally bring myself to look at her face… she’s beaming. An imaginary weight lifts, and I relax.

“Mother, where would you like to begin?” I repeat his question.

“I’ve packed most everything of importance into three trunks under my bed. A few things left to grab. And, if it’s possible, I’d like to take some furniture. Just a couple of rocking chairs that have been in the family for years.” She wrings her hands nervously at her waist.

Azrael nods, snapping his fingers at the strongman—whose impossible strength I remember from the circus tent—and at Sylis, whom I also recognize from when I visited. They’re seated in the front room, which I hadn’t noticed until just now.

“Show my friends where the trunks are. They’ll carry them back to the manor,” Azrael tells my mother.

She leads the men to her room. When they re-emerge, Sylis is carrying one trunk, and the strongman balances one on each shoulder. I marvel at the sight of them as they head out the front door and down the road.

“Won’t people see what we’re doing?” I ask Azrael, concerned someone might alert my father.

He merely smiles. “I have my secrets. Don’t worry.”

I stare at him, astonished. Disbelief nagging at my emotions—this is too good to be true. We’re really going to escape. This is really happening, and we both have a chance at a new life. Azrael is saving us. It hits me hard—Azrael loves me.

He’s doing all of this because he’s in love with me.

The last of my doubts dissolve, and a ripple of relief pulses through me.

He actually loves me. This isn’t a dream.

It’s real. I wish this moment could last forever.

My heart swells, and all I can think about is never leaving his side again.

I want to spend every moment possible wrapped in his arms.

“Show me everything in your room you’d like to take,” Azrael says.

I lead him to my room, heart pounding, and return to the half-filled trunk I abandoned the night before. Each item I pack now feels like closing the door on my old life.

“This is one of the chairs she wants to bring,” I say, pointing to the corner of my room where it rests.

Azrael walks over, inspects it, then waves his hand. Shadows swirl and fill the space, swallowing the chair. Once they settle—it’s gone.

“How? Where?” I gasp.

Azrael grins, eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s waiting for you in your new room.”

I struggle for words. He made my chair disappear right in front of me. “Don’t do that in front of my mother,” is all I can manage.

He chuckles. “Where’s the other chair?”

“In her bedroom,” I answer.

“You’ll have to distract her while I send it off as well. In a bit. For now, finish packing. Are there any other items you would like to take?” His eyes dance with excitement.

“Now that I know you can just disappear things with your shadows…” I hesitate. “There is something I’d love to ask, though it might be too much.”

“Mercy, what is it? I’ll do anything to make you happy and comfortable.”

I worry my bottom lip for a moment and look at the ground.

“Please, don’t be embarrassed,” Azrael says gently, taking my hand and kissing it. “Tell me.”

“Would you be able to move the orchard and the garden? They were gifts from my uncle, and I can’t bear the thought of leaving them behind after all these years.”

Azrael looks out my window at the small orchard of trees and green, lush garden. “I can try,” he says quietly. “Though I can’t promise. I’ve never tried to move anything living.”

I squeal. “Thank you!” Before I even realize what I’m doing, I leap into his arms and kiss him on the cheek.

“Finish packing. I’m going to go work some magic on your mother’s trunks, and check the orchard. Will you be ready when I return?”

I nod.

Azrael walks down the hall and disappears from sight. A few minutes later, my mother steps into the room.

“He sent me to help you finish. Are you nearly ready?” she asks, glancing around.

“Yes, Mother. I just need to toss in my blankets,” I reply with a sad smile.

She embraces me tightly. “Oh, Mercy… I don’t know whether to smile or cry. It’s so difficult to leave everything we’ve ever known. But escaping Jacob… that’s something I never thought I’d be brave enough to do.”

“I know, Mother,” I soothe. “I think it’s okay to smile because we’re finally happy. It’s okay to miss our home, too. You made this place special. And I know you’ll do the same once we’re all settled in our new home.”

We both dry our tears. I close my trunk, and together we walk hand in hand back through the house, which feels hollow now, stripped of the things we once cherished. Azrael waits just outside the door.

“Are you ready?”

Memories crash over me. I stare at the only home we’ve ever known, hand still clasped in my mother’s.

“Mercy, are you ready?” he asks again.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He offers me his arm—and my mother his other. She doesn’t notice the way the shadows follow us as we move through the streets toward the looming big top tent. But I do. And I have a sneaking suspicion that no one will see us walking… unless Azrael wants them to.

When we reach the circus gates, Azrael pushes them open. “Are you ready to run away with me to the circus?”

“Always,” I reply. “I will always run away with you, Azrael. No matter how far it takes me.”

I feel my mother wince next to me, the sharpness of my words cutting deep. But I don’t feel bad. I won’t feel bad for loving him.

He cups my face in his large hands and kisses my forehead. “Come on,” he says with a grin. “I can’t wait to show you both your rooms. I had an entire wing prepared for you.”

Azrael leads us through the exquisitely carved front doors, where gleaming marble floors stretch out before us.

Our footsteps are loud, echoing in the vast silence.

Ahead of us, a sweeping staircase curves upward, elegant and inviting.

The ceilings are impossibly high, and the walls are lined with expensive-looking art—portraits, landscapes, even some unsettling abstract pieces.

As we reach the top landing, Azrael gestures to his left.

“The Ringmaster’s wing is this way. Stay out of it,” he warns, voice tight. “He doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

We walk in the opposite direction, and at the end of the hallway, it splits into two.

“My wing is this way,” Azrael points to the right. “Your wing is to the left. Follow me.”

We walk about halfway down the hall, where two doors face each other.

Azrael opens the first door. “This will be your mother’s room.”

Her trunks—and the one rocking chair from home—are already here, stacked neatly in the center of the room. She walks briskly toward them, already taking inventory of everything. I fight the urge to laugh.

“Mother, I’ll check on you in a little while.” I give Azrael’s hand a small squeeze, silently asking him to give her some space.

She waves me off without looking up, and Azrael pulls me gently across the hall.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers. “I want you to be surprised.”

I close them. I feel his arm wrap over my shoulders as he guides me forward. “Go ahead and open your eyes, Mercy.”

I gasp, covering my mouth as tears spring to my eyes. “It’s perfect. I dreamed of something just like this the other night.”

I wander through the room, in awe at how closely it mirrors my dream. Could it have been a premonition? A glimpse of the future gifted by whatever strange powers I’m developing?

Azrael beams. “I’m glad you like it.”

“All of this,” I wave my hand around. “It’s all too much. I don’t deserve it.”

He rushes to my side, pulling me into a fierce embrace and kisses the top of my head. “Don’t say that. You deserve every bit of it.”

My heart swells and I realize there’s really nothing left for me in the place we once called home. “You saved my life, and my mother’s… Thank you.”

His hand reaches up gently to stroke my cheek. Then, leaning down so his lips almost brush mine, he whispers, “I love you, Mercy. And I’ll stop at nothing to keep you safe.”

I kiss him hard and deep. Desperate. Our tongues sweep against one another, our bodies press together like we’re afraid to be apart. Like we might die. I only pull away for air long enough to say, “I love you too, Azrael.”

His mouth is back on mine in an instant, even hungrier this time.

My heart races and the world spins. And then—time stands still.

I don’t know which one of us is doing it, only that we’re frozen in this moment, just the two of us.

His hand cradles my head as his fingers curl into the hair at the nape of my neck.

The kiss slows—each stroke of his tongue is deliberate, deep, and drenched with desire.

I suddenly have the urge to take things further. I want more.

My fingers reach for the button on his pants—and then, he’s pulling away. Time snaps back into motion. We’re standing several feet apart, breathless. Confusion washes over me. I don’t understand why he keeps stopping this—us?

Azrael begins to pace, jaw tight.

“You stopped time again. I need to check in with Zora and let her know what’s going on. I’m sorry. I need to go.”

“Please, Azrael,” I whisper. “Don’t.”

He pauses, torn. “I promise I’ll see you first thing tomorrow morning. I have a show tonight… and chores that must be completed before the Ringmaster notices they haven’t been done.” He runs his hands through his hair in frustration.

“I’ll have the servants bring you lunch and dinner. Unpack, settle in. Try to rest. I’ll see you soon.”

Disappointment sags my shoulders. “Okay.” I stammer my response, feeling helpless.

“One more thing,” he says, “don’t explore. I’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow, but until then… Promise me you and your mother won’t go wandering the house.”

It’s such an odd request, laced with unease, but I nod. “I promise.”

He exhales in relief. “Thank you.” Then softer. “I miss you already.”