I could smell the wine on his breath. Though I knew what Casimir and Aeton had been caught doing was true—a confession from Casimir’s lips on a drunken night had clarified that for me. The rest of us shouldn’t be tarnished with their one mistake.
“We are not.”
Can I trust that the rumors about Dalziel are wrong? Can I take that chance? There’s no doubt that an arranged marriage is in my near future, approaching much quicker than I’d like, but this would never be forced upon Violence. Not unless I, the crown prince, push for it.
“She’d be given real status again. Taken from that group of savages. You saw tonight what it is doing to her. She’s not a pampered poodle anymore. She’s a timid hound who’s working on her bite. I, for one, don't want to be around when she learns how sharp her teeth are.”
“Basilus.” Frustration is seeping into my tone. “I can’t do that to her.”
He taps his temple with his pointer finger. “It’s all about mindset, Merrick. You’re not doing ittoher, you’re saving her.” With a wiggle of his thick eyebrows, he shoots me one last smile. “I’ll see you at tea tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll keep thisgossipbetween us.”
His steps slowly depart, but his words stick with me. I shake my head and turn into my room, mumbling about how there is no damn way I am going to force Violence to marry into the Court of Wind.
6
Violence
“I fucking hate royals,”Nollix mutters the second our feet hit the valley floor.
Cameron stumbles next to me, staring down at her hand as the last few pieces of her dust-like form come back into place. I hardly notice the way her hands tremble before everything I’d suppressed all night comes violently back up.
Jeriko groans in disgust as I turn away, retching up what little food I’d had in me. “Well, you seemed to have all the right answers while in their presence,” she snaps at Nollix and plants her hands on her hips, giving him one of her worst glares.
Hiking the material of my skirt up, I squat and let my head dangle between my knees, begging my body to stop the constant rolling waves of nausea. Every time I close my eyes, I see Casimir’s back split wide and bloodied.
I blink again and it’s Merrick’s face.
I’ll fix this.
If he couldn’t fix this in three years, what makes him think he can fix this now? Another blink, and I see my mother’s face. I hear her voice asking me to stay. Bile stings the back of my throat.
Today felt like playing dress up. It felt like I was pretending, and now I know I’m not a good actress.
Behind me, the others are shifting around our small camp. I close my eyes and listen to their muffled steps against grass and dirt. Someone cracks a few twigs, strikes together a few rocks, and within a couple minutes, a fire is ignited behind me. Heat warms my bare back.
“I would have liked to wait until after dessert to storm out,” Carver says with a light laugh.
The others don’t respond, but I can sense how close they are, all standing around the open flames. Swiping the back of my hand across my mouth, I force myself to stand, to face them. I turn, expecting an onslaught of questions and demands. Bracing myself, I square my shoulders.
Everyone watches the fire. Except for Cameron, who’s still staring at her hands.
Four dried-out logs sit around the fire, three of them filled with my companions in the Hunt. My usual seat is still empty, waiting for me. Bark has been worn away, wood smoothed where I’ve sat time and time again. It’s likely the only mark on the world that shows that I even still exist. It waits for me. My home.
Silk slips down my legs, my feet bare, those damn heels discarded in the palace. I lower down to the log, curling into myself and hiding my face in the crook of my elbow.
“Holy. Shit,” Cameron finally says. “Holy shit! That wassocool. How did you do that? How didIdo that? Can I do that on my own? That felt so weird. I’m tingly all over.” She shoves herself onto the log next to me.
“Calm down, tagalong. It’s probably only because you’re tied to Princess over there,” Jeriko says, pulling her feet out of her own heels.
“Hmm,” Cameron hums.
The wind blows strands of her orange hair across my arm, tickling me enough that I lift my face and frown. When I look up, I meet Carver’s gaze. He stands, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt.
“It was much too stuffy in there.” He shrugs out of the sleeves, balling the material in his hands before tossing it into the fire. He reaches for his belt next. “The wine... not strong enough.” He steps out of the dress pants and kicks those into the flames too. One sock at a time is peeled off of him, leaving him in only his undershorts. “Baths are boring when you could wash in a river.” The socks are tossed next.
Nollix scoffs but stands up from his log. I turn my attention his way. He cocks a half grin in my direction, and I point my gaze down to the grass.
“Everyone in the palace is pretentious.” Nollix doesn’t fuss with the buttons like Carver did. With one strong tug, they fly off, leaving his torso exposed. A blue button lands on my folded arms, and I flick it off just as he chucks the shirt into the fire. "The king is an asshole.”
