Page 51 of The Princesses of Ruin (The Princesses of Ruin #5)

Chapter forty-seven

Scarlett

D inner was an exercise in humility. Mother says my magic-less blood has failed her for the last time. She couldn’t even barter me away to a Wolish merchant in exchange for discounted shipping rates.

The halls of the palace feel oppressive, their shadows swallowing me. Has it always been this dark in the royal wing?

This isn’t right…

I turn, taking in curtains, the chaise in the alcove, the carpets. Everything is blurred at the edges, my periphery hazy. Did I have too much wine at dinner? It was a small miracle I didn’t drink myself to death when she called me worthless.

Worthless.

I am not worthless.

A shadow emerges from the alcove, and I take a step back on instinct. Shadows shouldn’t move, but this one does.

It smiles, too.

The man is young of years but dripping in the kind of cruelty that comes with experience in sadism. He grins overwide as he twists a blade against his finger. I suck down a breath to scream, but my voice fails. I make no noise .

Fear immobilizes me. I can only watch as the man comes closer.

“A pretty thing. Such a waste,” he says with a tsk.

You’re dead, you fucking bastard. I ripped your throat out myself. Ate it, too.

My heart beats so hard I think it might split my chest open. He stops before me, his eyes perusing the length of my body. Revulsion boils in my stomach. I’ve seen that gaze before, too, and know exactly what kind of man he is.

“What if I take you home instead? Hmm? You’d look pretty sitting on my cock, kissing my second wife.”

Scream. Scream, you insipid, worthless girl!

His hand comes to my face, and the touch of his cold skin snaps the reins on my mind. My voice comes out in a whistling shriek. He covers my mouth and then we fold away—moved from the middle of the hall to the alcove. I don’t understand how…but it must be his magic.

A sharp prick against my neck and a roll of warm blood silences me.

Why aren’t you dead? Why am I here?

“Make another sound and I’ll slit you ear to ear. Then I’ll find your sister’s bed and see if she’s more willing. Understand? ”

I nod, fearing not for my insignificant life, but for my kin’s.

My mind whirls as he grips my shoulder and pushes down.

The edges of my vision darken as I drop.

He keeps the blade at my neck as his other hand works free the leather straps of his pants.

He snaps one against my cheek, a sting blooming there that makes me whimper.

Shame burns in my eyes. I’m a princess of Fynren, pushed to my knees to be used like a common whore in the halls of my own home.

“Now, you’re going to open those plump lips and take me nicely. I shouldn’t need to remind you of the alternative.”

He drags the tip of the knife along my jaw. A tremor rocks my body. My eyes lock on the hilt of another blade on his hip.

Hot tears spill down my cheeks as I accept what I must do. “Please, I’ll be good for you, but the knife scares me. I’m a nomaj—”

“I know what you are,” he says.

I accept that there’s one way out of this and stop my tears.

“Please.”

I lick my lips and his gaze darts to them, then back to my eyes.

“You’ll be good?”

I don’t know how to be sultry, but I try. “I’ll be so good for you. I want you to take me away. Make me your wife.”

“Your mother’s a right cunt,” he says. “But I’m sure you know that. I deserve to take you home for how little she’s payin’ me.”

He moves the blade from my neck and grabs the back of my head with it still in his grasp. I can’t get that knife from him, but it’s away from my neck. It’s two seconds or more from lethal placement. I pray to Zephrom that’s enough time.

Don’t pray to that bitch.

I know what’s in a man’s pants. I know that when they touch themselves, they feel pleasure, and I’ve seen men in the garrison doing so in the late nights of patrol when they think no one is watching. I know what he intends to do with me here on my knees.

I won’t let him. And I won’t let him have my sisters either. He might kill me, but before then I’ll take from him so dearly he can never hurt anyone again.

“You deserve more,” I say, planting my hands on his thighs and rubbing up to his groin.

He groans when I touch him. I battle down my revulsion, forcing my face to stay soft, welcoming…tamed.

“You ever suck cock before, girl?” he asks, his voice husky, distracted.

It’s working.

“Never,” I say, shaking my head slowly. “But I’ve seen one. I know…”

I keep my hands on his legs, and my eyes on his, but my attention is on the second blade strapped to his thigh. How fast can I pull it? Is there a strap locking the hilt?

“What do you know?” he asks with a greasy grin.

My gut turns with nerves. Nol’Ther whispers along my skin like an icy ghost, ready to accept me. I’m ready to go if it means I’ll take this fucker with me.

“I’ve seen maids in dark corners. I know what to do,” I say, wetting my lips again.

His grip tightens on my hair, grabbing more of it than he is the blade. He’ll fumble it when the time comes.

Yes, he will.

He hooks a thumb in the waist of his pants and pushes them down to his thighs. “Make sure you cover those teeth, girl.”

I open my mouth and stick out my tongue. It makes me want to vomit, but it makes him smile.

He keeps his hand tucked in his pants, holding them down. I move in closer as my hands slip up his thighs. I touch the hilt—

Pull it.

Slice.

Blood sprays across my face.

He screams, throwing me away by my hair.

I scramble up, dagger clenched in my fist. It’s thirty steps to the intersection.

“Help me!” I scream .

There should be guards here. Where are they?

She ordered them away. Ordered their silence.

I trip, the bottom of my dress too long. I kick off my other shoe. I don’t know where I left the first. I taste salty iron and…licorice candy.

A roar of anger down the hall bellows for me. “I’m going to kill you, stupid whore!”

Up again, running. I hook the blade in the front of my gown and cut. It rips away, leaving me in a slip that makes me light and quick. I run faster, my feet thudding as loud as my heart.

“Help!” I scream again, my lungs burning.

There’s no one here. There’s no one here on purpose.

Of course, he said my mother paid him—not nearly enough.

Shadows move beside me and I can feel them in my gut. I don’t know how I know, but I dodge, missing a dark-coated blade meant for my back.

You’ve got him inside you, love, that’s why.

The shadows evaporate, leaving a tiny kris knife on the ground ahead of me.

“You fucking bitch!” the assassin growls.

I run, not knowing where my legs are going, only that we’re getting away from him, to someone…anyone. Maybe Alastair is standing vigil outside Lily’s door. Maybe I can—

A sharp pain spears my thigh. I want to scream, but my lungs ache so badly I can’t. There’s no breath for screaming, only for running.

The stairs are well-lit with sconces, and my attacker disappears.

I power up the steps, my leg aching. I check for a blade, but there is none, just a small wound.

The black shadows that he’d tamed move against my skin there, filling the void.

It hurts, but…it’s a healing ki nd of hurt.

The kind of pain that hot water and salve create.

The kind that high-magus healing powers create.

What is happening?

There’s no time to consider it any further. My wound is managed, so I need to move.

I take the stairs two at a time up to my floor. Lily’s room is just down from mine, across from Alyse’s. Alastair will be there. He’s always there…

Except he isn’t. Which means Lily isn’t there, either.

Where is everyone?

Hopelessness sinks to the bottom of my gut. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what to do—

Shadows explode from the window at the end of the tower. I scream, running from the figure charging through the hall toward me. My door opens and I slam it shut, locking it behind me.

Blackness mists at the crack at the bottom and his eyes appear again. I take a step back, holding the blade out in front of me.

“Don’t,” I whisper on a gasped breath. “Don’t come closer.”

He evaporates and then there’s a hand on my hair. I cut through it with my knife, severing us. I run for the door, but he’s already there. A punch to my stomach sends me reeling. I fall, hitting the ground with a thud that jostles my brain.

I’m going to die.

No, you’re not, love.

I roll, scrambling back on hands and knees, but he’s behind me again. I use the bedpost to help me to my feet. He grabs my ankle and yanks, dragging me back to the floor. My forehead smacks the end of my bed and I see stars in the darkness. Something hot trickles down my face.

“You could’ve been a good girl. ”

The words ring like they’re coming from the bottom of a well.

“Could’ve lived with me a few good years.”

There’s a pinch at the back of my neck. I’m pulled from the ground. My arms are so heavy, but I thrust the dagger still clenched in my hand, landing solidly on something.

He curses loudly. My neck hurts. I’m thrown and I land on something that holds me up. My feet are still under me. I push and open my eyes. I see the moons. The window is open.

Nol’Ther tells me to stay and let her darkness cloak me forever.

Eyzanth tells me to jump.

I tip over the ledge and let myself fall.