Page 34 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

The last time Josie sat beside someone’s sickbed like this, it had been in the final days of her Aunt Madelyn’s life. Then, it had been a bed in a private room of the palace infirmary, the walls lined with windows, chosen specifically by Dominic to give his wife a view of the sea.

“She needs to be able to feel the fresh air on her face,” he’d commanded as he’d thrown one of those windows open. “And the sound of the sea soothes her.”

There had been a tremor in the king’s voice that Josie had never heard before—a sign of his frayed nerves and impending grief.

Love is unsurvivable.

The thought came as she watched the rise and fall of Aleissande’s chest.

Her fear had been a visceral thing when she’d first seen the general writhing on the table, and its claws had not quite released Josie from their grip. She was too exhausted to pick it apart and find the deeper meaning in her emotions.

“It will take time for her to wake,” the Anima had assured her before she left. “But she will wake. Send for me when she does.”

Natali had fixed her with a steely stare, their voice low as they said, “I trust I do not need to remind you what tragedies will befall you if anyone learns the princess and general are here.”

The Anima, to her credit, had not cowered at the threat. She’d merely raised her chin and said, “I have no desire to help those Bellare scum,” before leaving the room, likely in search of a bath to wash away the blood.

Natali had brought Josie a wet rag, and she’d used it not to clean her own hands, but to wipe the blood from as much of Aleissande’s skin as she could reach. And then she’d collapsed into one of the chairs Natali had fetched, ready to wait while the Saj returned to their dormitory to get some rest.

That had been hours ago.

She had passed the time by peppering Cole with questions on what had happened on the beach once Josie had run. Apparently, though the Bellare had no magic to wield against the Visya, the element of surprise and the sheer number of them had done their job in overwhelming the force.

“Aleissande gave the order to scatter,” he had explained. “She found me and told me to follow her, but she was already injured. We didn’t make it far before we were cornered by three Bellare.”

“How did you escape?” Josie had asked, her heart racing as if she were back in the battle herself.

Cole had blinked at her several times before simply saying, “I do know how to use a sword.”

A laugh had ripped out of Josie, followed immediately by the tears she could no longer keep at bay.

Tears for her kingdom, for her parents, for her brother, for her general.

Even for herself.

Cole had wordlessly handed her a clean rag, and that had been that.

His arm brushed against hers now, as he stretched overhead.

“She’ll be okay,” he reassured her, his hand falling to Josie’s shoulder and squeezing lightly.

She didn’t know how long it had been since they last spoke.

Another hour, if she had to guess. If there were windows in this room, she’d imagine the sky was lightening into dawn.

“How do you know?”

Cole shrugged. “It’s Aleissande. She’s the strongest person I know, with the exception of you.”

Josie shook her head. “I don’t feel strong.” She felt…adrift. Untethered. Scared.

She glanced at the bloody rag she’d discarded earlier. How many more times would she wipe blood from someone’s skin and wonder if they would live?

Cole studied her for a long moment. “That woman you were speaking to…” he began with uncharacteristic carefulness. “Was that… her ?”

Josie shifted in her seat, her joints aching against the hard wood. She had spilled the whole sad tale to Cole during weapons polishing one night months ago. They’d gotten drunk off a bottle of liquor Cole had snuck into the armory under the guise of making the task somewhat enjoyable .

He’d thrown up all over one of the sword racks, and Josie had laughed so hard she’d almost peed herself.

“Yes,” Josie sighed. “That was Viviane.”

“Are you worried she’ll tell the Bellare you’re here?”

Honestly, the thought hadn’t crossed Josie’s mind again since she’d first leveled Viviane with her threat. She’d been far too consumed by her fear for Aleissande. Even now, it took her by surprise how viscerally she’d felt it.

“No,” Josie answered truthfully as she met her friend’s gaze. She gave a half-hearted shrug. “If she does, she knows I’ll kill her.”

If Cole was surprised by her bloodthirst, he didn’t show it. He merely hummed in agreement. But a rasp of a laugh followed, not from Cole, but from—

“Aleissande,” Josie breathed, her body lurching from the chair to her makeshift bedside before she could even register what she was doing.

“Who are you killing, Princess?” Aleissande asked.

Whoever did this to you. Josie pushed the thought away as she shook her head. “No one of importance. How are you feeling?”

“Like I nearly died.” She looked past Josie to Cole. “Thank you for getting me here.”

“How did you know this is where I would be?” Josie pressed. Aleissande wetted her cracked lips, and Josie grabbed a cup of water. She helped Aleissande take a sip, her fingers sliding easily into the strands of hair at the back of her skull as she supported her head.

Aleissande closed her eyes as she settled back against the table, and for a moment Josie simply stood there, cup of water in hand, hovering at the general’s side.

Cole coughed, and it jarred Josie into motion.

She dragged her chair closer to the table, her fingers curling around the cup to resist reaching out toward Aleissande again.

Aleissande’s eyes fluttered open, pale blue and far less bleary than they’d been hours ago. “Aidon told me about Natali hiding Viviane. I assumed that meant this would be a safe place for you to run.”

Cole’s chair scraped across the stone floor as he dragged it to the table. “That’s who Josie is going to kill,” he informed Aleissande as he plopped back down into his seat. “Viviane.”

Aleissande searched Josie’s face, as if she could find the truth there. “As much as I’d love to witness that, your brother was right. She could be useful to our cause.”

It should have stung to know that Aidon hadn’t spared Vi’s life solely because of Josie’s heart. But it didn’t.

“The time for her to share her testimony has long since passed,” Josie bit out.

“True,” Aleissande conceded, “but there is still the matter of her raw power. It might not be limitless, but it is still strong. We need every fighter we can get, and if she can be convinced to join our cause…”

“Our cause,” Josie parroted, her leg bouncing. What cause could they possibly pursue now?

She leaned against the stiff wooden back of her chair, her jaw shifting as she asked the question that had been nagging at her for hours. “How many did we lose?”

Aleissande grimaced, grief and pain twisting her lips and flashing in her eyes before it gave way to the familiar steel of her gaze. “Enough.” She licked her chapped lips. “Your parents?”

Josie’s throat ached as she swallowed down her own grief. “Natali says they haven’t been seen since the coup.”

“The Bellare could be holding them for ransom,” Natali’s voice came from the doorway. They had changed out of their leathers and into their customary loose pants and linen top, the soft blues a balm against Josie’s nerves and the grimness of the training room.

They looked better rested, too, the bags under their eyes not so pronounced.

“General,” they greeted with a dip of their chin. “Good to see you alive.”

“Good to be so,” Aleissande answered.

“I’ll send for the Anima,” Natali remarked. “She’ll want to look you over.”

“Not yet,” Aleissande grunted as she heaved herself up, her elbows braced behind her as she tried to sit up. “I want to speak privately.”

“Careful,” Josie chided, her hand gripping her shoulder. “You should lie back down. Your stomach—”

“I’m fine,” Aleissande insisted, her shallow breath anything but. Josie pushed away the irritation that sparked at Aleissande’s typical stubbornness.

Bullheaded as ever.

Aleissande waited until Natali closed the door behind them and stepped further into the room before she spoke again. “I take it rumors of Aidon’s power beat us here.”

Aleissande kept her gaze fixed resolutely on Natali. Josie wondered if she expected her to press the matter, to retort with a childish I told you . She felt a stab of shame to know that if Aleissande hadn’t been a breath away from death, perhaps she would have.

It was baffling how such matters could sober one instantly.

“Clearly,” Natali deadpanned. “Though I do believe the cause was aided by the news of what transpired in Sitya with the Second Saint.”

Josie straightened in her seat, her brow furrowing as she remembered Natali’s words from earlier. “You mentioned revelations regarding Aya. I assumed you meant that she’d been kidnapped. Why would that bolster the Bellare’s cause? Their issue is with Visya holding too much power.”

“This is why sayings about assumptions exist,” Natali retorted dryly. Cole snorted a laugh, but Josie could not even manage a grin.

“What happened?” she demanded.

Natali sighed as they tugged a spare chair forward, settling into it heavily. “They say she attacked Sitya using the same light she displayed in Dunmeaden during her Sanctification.”

Aleissande’s brow was stern. “Was she attacking Kakos? They hold the port, do they not?”

Natali’s lips pinched in the corner. “The shipload of dead human prisoners would indicate otherwise.”

Josie’s stomach clenched, her lips parting in horror as she stared at the Saj. “That’s impossible,” she rasped.

“Is it?” The Saj’s amber eyes gleamed. “How many impossible things have already come to pass?”

“Aya would never —”