Page 47

I’m going to kill him.

One day, I’m going to end him slowly, and I’ll relish every moment. The throne room is enchanted, so no one outside of the doors can overhear the conversations within its walls. It just hadn’t occurred to me until today how messy some of those conversations could be.

I shouldn’t have left her alone.

When I entered the throne room and saw Maeva’s pale face with a fading bruise along one cheek and dried blood on her mouth, I wanted to strangle whoever was the source. Her dress was in such disarray that my gut twisted into knots.

How dare he allow this!

I thought he wouldn’t permit anyone to harm her, given how precious her ability is to him, but apparently he had other plans.

My fists are clenched so tightly, my palms are tingling with the effort to not unleash my abilities on every person near that chamber.

I shouldn’t have left her, but I couldn’t defy his direct order, even though I wanted to.

If I’d tried, it would’ve just placed a larger target on her back.

If there is even the smallest hope she’ll be able to escape, once she fulfills whatever he requests of her, I won’t be the one to rob her of that freedom.

She, Laisren, and Riordan follow closely behind me, her gaze doesn’t leave the ground.

Her trembling hands are tightly gripping the elaborate gown, as the veins in her neck pop.

Riordan attempts speaking with her, but she either doesn’t respond or only uses small grunts as acknowledgement.

We exchange worried glances, wondering what the malevolent king did to our Rosey.

My Rosey.

I open the door leading to her chamber, to which she enters without a word. Unsure what to do, I watch as she grabs a slim gold dress from the armoire.

“Rosey?” I call out.

She doesn’t reply as she closes herself within the bathing chamber.

As we wait, it feels like an eternity before she re-emerges. Her hair is still twisted back halfway, but without the floral wreath woven throughout it. The golden dress hugs her body, accentuating her curves. Her chin quivers as her swollen, vacant eyes peer at the three of us.

I slowly step toward her. “Rosey?”

She flinches at the sound of my voice, quickly moving around us.

Without hesitation, she strides over to the large glass doors leading out to the balcony.

Once she’s outside, she closes the doors, locking us away from her.

We stand there in silence, watching the soft gray glow of the mist mix in perfect contrast to the bright gold of her dress, giving her a glowing appearance.

“One of us should speak with her,” Laisren says. “She might need to debrief after the hellish encounter she just faced. ”

“I agree,” Riordan replies. “She didn’t even laugh at the story about my smelly feet in the barracks, so something must be bothering her.”

Laisren sighs, biting the inside of his cheek. “Maybe she just found that story disgusting,” he quips.

“Are you joking?” Riordan jests, feigning offense. “That one always delights the ladies. How could it not?”

“I can assure you they’re laughing out of embarrassment for you—not because they find it amusing,” I retort.

Riordan chortles.

“Will you two keep watch outside of her chamber?” I ask. “I’ll go and speak with her.”

My commanders wince.

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea, given your dislike for her?” Riordan asks.

I sigh, looking for any sign of Domhnall in the corridor. Once I’m sure he isn’t lurking, I close the door, allowing my shadows to create a soundproof dome around us. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would’ve done this with Maeva, but I was careless.

“Emyr?” Laisren asks.

I never use these domes unless it’s for information that’s of the utmost secrecy.

“I don’t have any other choice but to be vile toward her,” I sigh. “Domhnall overheard a conversation with her this morning and threatened to tell my father of my… attachment to her. I told him he’s insane to suggest such a thing.”

“Is that why you behaved so spitefully about her dress?” Laisren asks.

I nod curtly.

I’m still internally kicking myself for that.

“Ahh,” Riordan says. “Now it makes sense why you have been acting like an arse. You’re trying to protect her.”

“Yes, and I suggest that you both do the same. I fear what he or Domhnall will do if they believe we care for her,” I warn. “It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s harmed someone that he saw as a threat. ”

“Of course,” Laisren snarls. “He wouldn’t want to lose his wraiths of Zulgalros.”

Laisren understands this perhaps better than the rest of us.

“Precisely,” I reply.

Laisren clears his throat, clapping me on the back.

“We’ll give the dimwit the best bloody performance he’s ever seen, but you need to explain this to her, Emyr. She has no allies here but us,” he says sternly.

I nod, retracting my shadows.

“Don’t allow anyone near this chamber that isn’t a maid or Virgil. They’re the only ones to have access to this room,” I command, louder than necessary.

“Yes, High General,” they reply.

As they exit the chamber, I walk out to the balcony.

I observe her from the doorway for a moment.

Maeva’s hand trails over the corpses of withered, dark maroon-colored roses.

Coming to stand beside her, I place my hands on the railing, looking out over the tall trees of the woods.

She turns her face from me, but not quickly enough for me to miss the tears spilling from her eyes.

“Rosey, look at me,” I plead. When she doesn’t tilt her gaze or respond, my heart thumps wildly.

I need her to talk to me, otherwise I’ll level this entire palace—to the Abyss with the consequences.

I softly reach for her cheek, angling her face back toward me.

I need to see the ocean in her eyes.

To see the churning storm or calming stillness.

It doesn’t matter which version of the waters I see as long as I get to drown in their depths.

She jumps at the contact, but I don’t stop as my thumb strokes across her cheek, catching every tear that dares slip down her beautiful face. I feel dread settling into my being when she refuses to open her eyes. “Rosey, look at me, please,” I whisper.

Slowly, she peers at me through her damp, clustered lashes. The tears have made them glisten—my beautifully tragic girl .

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

She opens and closes her mouth, though no words escape her lips. She looks at me as if searching for my soul.

What is she thinking about right now ?

“Maeva,” I whisper.

As if snapping her back into reality, she blinks rapidly, backing away from my outstretched hand. It remains frozen to the spot where her face had been moments before. Her brows scrunch together as she rubs her temple—her eyes wild with emotion that’s as turbulent as the sea.

I want to drown in her eyes, but she’s already drowning in a different way.

I slowly lower my hand, my heart lurching at the sight of her distress. “I cannot help if you don’t talk to me, Rosey,” I say.

Her shoulders tighten as she clenches her fists. “I don’t need your help,” she seethes.

I take a step closer to her, her dark stormy gaze assessing my every move. “You may not need it, but I want to help you. Tell me which one of them did this to you,” I reply, looking at her busted lip that’s almost healed.

Maeva scoffs, turning away from me. “Why? So you can use it against me later? Or is it so you can go running to that wicked man and tell him I cried over it?” she snaps.

My nostrils flare as I take a steadying breath. I should slay the king and queen in their sleep for causing her such anguish. Yet, it’s the fact that she believes I’ll report everything to him that causes my soul to shatter. There’s so much hurt and anger in her voice that I can’t stand it.

Before I do anything reckless, I grab her hand, whirling her around to face me. She gasps, stunned by the gesture. I lean my back against the farthest column, pulling her to me.

“What do you think you are?—”

“Shhhh,” I say, holding one finger to her lips as I look all around us. Seeing no one, I grab her waist, allowing my shadows to seep out. Maeva’ s body stiffens as her wide-eyed stare roams from my glowing irises to my shadows.

She’s afraid… Perhaps she should be.

Nonetheless, I tighten my grip around her because her fear is the last thing I’ve ever wanted.

“You’re safe,” I whisper.

I create a smaller dome than the one I made earlier, solely for the purpose that if someone were to walk out here, it would merely look like a typical shadow along the back of the terrace.

The palace is always dark, so they’d be none the wiser to believe it another darkened piece of the hellish expanse.

Once the dome is secured, her eyes bounce around and the tiniest smirk crosses her lips until a grimace replaces it. Even in this state, she’s beautiful.

The guilt churns in my gut as I think about all the things I’ve said today to dull her light.

I’m such a fool.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, avoiding her eyes. “I’m sorry for how I treated you earlier today. You looked radiant, but I couldn’t say that to you then.”

“Why were you so horrid then?” she asks coldly.

“I was careless when I spoke so freely with you this morning. Domhnall overheard our conversation somehow and threatened to tell the king that I’m growing attached to you. So I had to say that I care nothing for you, and I had to treat you that way in case he was eavesdropping.”

She waves to the shadows. “Would he not hear us here though?” she asks.

“No,” I reply. “This is a soundproof dome. I should’ve summoned one this morning as well, but I was foolish, and for that, I’m sorry, because my actions must’ve confused you greatly.”

She chews on her lip, nodding and contemplating my words.

“I just don’t understand. Why does it matter whether or not you care for me? You’re obviously not attached to me,” she replies.

I’m silent for several moments, as my eyes search hers, hoping for the right words to describe what I feel for her.

I swallow thickly. “It’s impossible to not have an attachment to you, Rosey,” I murmur. “How could I not when everything about you draws me into your orbit? The moment I saw the blood on your face, I was ready to destroy whoever put it there.”

Maeva’s mouth falls open momentarily before she promptly closes it and clears her throat. “Why would you care about my fate?” she mumbles.

I’m not sure whether it’s impulse or just the overwhelming need to touch her that fuels my next move, but my hands rest on either side of her face, caressing her like the priceless jewel that she is.

Maeva releases a small sigh as her own hands grip my armored wrists.

She relaxes against my hold, and the tension in my arms dissipates.

“I care because you see past the mask I wear and don’t cower or yield,” I say tenderly.

“I care because you’re special to me—just as you are.

Even if you decide to never summon your starlight, you’ll still be the most beautiful creation I’ve ever seen.

You stood with me in my shadows. Now let me stand in your darkness with you, Rosey. ”

She smiles, and a weight that’s pressed on me for years feels lighter seeing such a radiant display. Tiernan might be willing to do anything for her ability, but I’d do anything just to see her like this. “Thank you, Emyr,” she whispers.

I pull my hands away from her. The way she says my name has my chest fluttering in a whole different way than moments ago. “You’re welcome, Rosey,” I say. “Now, I need you to tell me what happened in that throne room.”

And she does without hesitation… every miniscule detail. After she concludes, I know with all the certainty I can muster that if I ever find a way to break the loyalty oath, I’ll slaughter every last one of them.