Page 19 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens (The Crimson Duet #1)

Royal Dungeons

“ T his way,” I whispered to Francis, turning off the trail to the cemetery.

We’d left our horses hidden behind a line of dense spruce, making the rest of the trip by foot.

Thankfully, the trip had not been long, leaving us no opportunity to fight. The cabin—I had no idea existed—settled down just beyond the palace grounds.

The air of the cemetery was impregnated with unwelcome memories. I wiped the sweat off my hands on my cloak, forcing my lungs to expand. Fidgeting with my sleeves, I focused on the passage ahead, determined to ignore my surroundings.

“Are we almost there?” Francis asked, scanning the cemetery for any unwelcome company.

“Yes,” I whispered as something caught my gaze.

Dozens of bright red flowers settled on the grave nearest to my brother’s. My brows furrowed as I took a step toward it. But before I got close to the stone Francis caught my hand, squeezing it tight. “Don’t look at it.” He gently pulled me back on our pathway.

Why? I wanted to ask him before the realization knocked the air out of my lungs.

My grave. My empty grave was now resting next to my brother and father. My stomach turned upside down, threatening to empty its contents.

Not tonight. My breathing quickened in unison with my heart beat. Not tonight.

“Look at me,” Francis held my face, forcing my gaze to meet his. “We must go, Princess. Every moment counts.” His cold hands were settled on my cheeks. “Take a deep breath and keep moving.” His stern commanding voice emptied my mind of any thought.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Francis was right—in a few moments there would be no turning back. I had to stay focused.

“Good.” Francis let go of my face. “We can do this, Your Highness.” He winked, giving me a reassuring smile.

We can do this.

Carefully moving the branches that covered the passage from unwelcome eyes, I slightly opened the door ajar.

We can do this.

The door creaked in protest. The passage was pitch black, though I had taken it so often as a child I could make the trip blind folded.

The passage only connected a few chambers: Sandra’s, Brian’s, and mine. If Francis and I were lucky, we would not meet anyone on our way to my rooms.

I brought a finger to my mouth, gesturing for Francis to be as quiet as possible—if anyone heard us here, we were trapped.

Step by step, we silently made our way through the darkness. The passage of my childhood now felt foreign, as though I had no business setting a foot inside of it. I supposed I did not. Familiar walls stared back at me, scolding me for intruding into their quiet night.

One, two, three, four. I counted the turns of the passage, afraid of ending up elsewhere. Five. The entrance to my bedchamber should’ve been on the left.

My shaky hands felt the wall, desperately searching for the handle. The smell of mold made my eyes water. Where is it? The longer we stayed in the passage, the more danger we put ourselves into. There were plenty of places to hide inside of the palace, but if someone saw us here—

Panic filled my mind, making me shake even more.

A cold hand covered mine, moving it to the left where the metal handle scratched my fingers. “Calm down, Princess,” Francis’ breath tickled my ear. “Trust your instincts. Our kind can see in the dark if your human nature would stop fighting it.”

With Francis’ hand still atop mine, I pushed the door open, taking a careful step into my old wardrobe.

“Your Highness, you should get back to your chambers.” Mories’ voice came from the room and my heart stopped in place. She knows I am here! My gaze found Francis’ when Mories’ voice broke through the wardrobe door. “Your Highness, the Queen requested for you to leave.”

“No,” a broken voice whispered in reply.

Icy sweat swept across my skin, making my palms sticky. What could Mories possibly have been doing in my room at this hour? Who was she talking to? She’d said Your Highness.

I slowly moved toward the light coming from the small gap in the door, hoping to assess the situation.

“Dear, we both will get in trouble if you don’t leave.” Mories added softly, taking a few steps toward my old bed.

My gaze collided with Francis’. What do we do now? We should have left, gone through Brian’s chambers perhaps, but I could not force myself to move.

The sounds of footsteps made Mories take another step closer to the bed, as if protecting whoever was underneath the blankets. “Your Majesty,” she bowed.

Damnation!

Francis covered his face with a palm in pure annoyance. We were doomed. Only one door separated us from my room. One wooden door could be the reason for our execution.

“Leave us.” The Queen addressed Mories, though I could not see her from this angle.

Mories nodded once, sending a quick glance toward the bed before taking her leave.

“Get up, Sandra, right this moment.” Mother’s voice shook my body, as if I was the one who angered her.

Sandra.

“Get up right now, and leave this room for good.” The Queen walked up to the bed, angrily pulling away all the blankets that hid Sandra from the world. “You have no reason to be here. Stop this foolish behavior.”

“I am hurting no one by staying here, Mother.” Sandra’s voice sounded so different than I remembered: as if the storm had passed through her, depriving her of any color within. My full-of-life Sandra now sounded drained of any emotion.

“Hold your tongue, child,” the Queen bit out. “I am tired of your childish behavior. You are a disgrace to this dynasty just like Cordelia now.” Her features were collected, despite her harsh words.

Sandra stared straight into the Queen's eyes, no fear shown on her face. Sandra, please just do what she tells you to. I told her in my mind, praying that the Moon would kindly send her my message. I could not see Sandra get hurt. Not my Sandra.

“Get off the bed right this moment, before I call the knights to drag you out,” the Queen interrupted their staring match.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Sandra shouted in reply. Something I had never heard her do. “Why do you hate me?”

I was going to be sick. I could not continue watching this, yet my eyes refused to leave the scene that played out in front of me.

“Get! Out!” The Queen pointed at the door.

“No,” Sandra whispered.

My heart was about to jump out of my chest. My body shook as though the cold ocean enveloped me in its embrace.

“Pardon me?” Mother’s voice sent a chill through me.

“I said no ,” Sandra repeated slowly, emphasizing each word.

“You can either go to your rooms right now, or spend the night in the dungeon.”

Francis moved toward me, gesturing for us to leave. I shook my head in refusal. Francis’ lips turned into a thin line, yet he did not force me out.

Sandra’s loud laugh brought me back to the scene in my old room. “Dear Gods,” she whispered with a wild smile on her face. “Is that what you told Cordelia when she didn't want to marry him? Is that what you will do when I refuse his hand?”

For the first time in my entire life I witnessed my mother taken off guard, but she quickly masked it.

I was not the only one to notice her change of emotions: the smile on Sandra’s face grew wider.

“Yes, I know what he’s done to her,” she nodded at the Queen.

“He told me so himself, and was sickly proud of it.” Sandra’s face turned, as though she smelled spoiled milk.

What in the Kingdom had Sandra been doing with Timothy for them to have this conversation? Gods, no.

“You will marry him for this dynasty,” Mother said firmly. “If you want your place at the throne after my death, you will do as I say,” she finished, confirming my biggest fear.

No, no, no.

“I don't want to be a queen!” my sister screamed from the top of her lungs. “Just let me leave! Let me go! I don't want to marry him! He hurts me! He hurts me, Mother! Is that why Cordelia ran away? Was it because of him? Because of you?”

Quiet tears fell from my eyes. If only I could return and take Sandra’s place to the throne. If only I could keep her safe once again.

The Queen leaned towards my sister as she slapped her hard across the face.

Despite my mind’s hardest efforts to stay logical, my heart won this battle.

My hand flew toward the door that separated me from my sister, prepared to open it.

I cared not for the consequences I would have faced.

I cared not if this was my greeting to death herself. My sweaty hand held the handle firmly—

Francis grasped my hand with so much strength it hurt. I turned to look at him through my blurred vision. He shook his head in horror, gently rubbing my palm. More tears fell from my face, wetting my dress. Francis moved closer, holding me firmly in one place.

“You have no right to talk to your Queen this way,” Mother raised her voice. “I will not discuss my decisions with you. You do as I say without any questions or complaints.” The Queen shook her head in disgust. “You are even worse than she was.”

“If you force me to marry Timothy I will jump off the tower!” Sandra’s words broke my heart into small pieces. “I will do it!” she shrieked. “I will do it!”

The Queen walked towards the door, uncovering my view of Sandra's—full of hurt—face. This was not my Sandra. Not anymore. This was the face of a woman who did not know peace, who did not know joy.

A knock on the door rang through the room. “Take her down to the dungeon, she shall spend the night there,” the Queen gave the order calmly. “Guard this room. Do not let anyone in again: especially her.”

Several pairs of steps barged into the room, walking straight toward my sister when she started bellowing in hysteria.

I tried to free myself of Francis’ embrace, tried to get to the handle, yet his strong hands did not let me. His hand covered my mouth, as my tears fell down in helplessness.

Sandra’s screeches filled the room—a sound I’d never heard her make. A sound that would haunt me for eternity. Her voice became hoarse as the guards dragged her from the room.

“Let me go!” she cried, kicking and pushing the guards. “Let me go!” She turned to look at our mother. “She is dead because of you! She is dead because of all of you!”