Casimir stops at the foot of my bed. His stare assessing me, looking for the crazy we’ve both seen in our father’s eyes. Maybe I have a little bit of that chaos within me too.
“Stay here,” I encourage. “Keep an eye...” I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. To specifically ask him to watch over Valentina. He bows slightly as if he understands.
“Be safe. If you need me, send word.”
There is no doubt that I will need him. I’ll need his support, his patience, his levelheadedness.
That is where I left the conversation. There is a chance that I’m a coward, unwilling to brave even the toughest conversations with my dearest friend. It’s all I can think about until I come to my father’s bedroom door and knock.
“Come in.”
I allow myself one calming breath before stepping into the room. I don’t make a habit of visiting my father’s chambers, but I’ve been here before. This time, it feels so much more shocking to be greeted by the dark grays and violent reds that adorn his furniture. I don’t allow myself to focus on all the red, on how it all reminds me of my mother’s blood. My fists clench as I remember the feeling of it slick on my palms.
“Ah, Merrick,” King Melic says, albeit somewhat somberly.
“You’re leaving?”
His suitcases have been propped open on his bed. He’d been examining what was inside as I walked in.
“Just a small trip. I’ll be back soon. I trust that you’ll keep the palace running in my absence.”
“No.”
“No?” He lifts a brow. His eyes are green again, his voice how it has always been. There are few shadows today.
“I want to come with you. Please, Father.” My jaw clenches as the word escapes me.Father. Disgust rushes through me, but I expel it as I relax my face. “I want to know what is going on. I want to be a part of whatever it is you are doing.”
He looks me up and down. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
“I don’t want to talk about her right now.” I shove my hands into my pockets to keep them from reaching out to try and strangle him. The image of his face turning from shades of red to purple then blue gives me the smallest ounce of joy.
“What do you want to talk about then?”
“Violence.”
“Ah.” He flips the lid of his suitcase closed and props himself on the edge of his mattress. “Marrying her off for an alliance with Dalziel? Have you not yet pursued that?”
“I want you to read over my letter when I do. I’ll write it right now. If I can secure this alliance for our court, will you tell me everything? Let me be a part of...this.” I gesture aimlessly toward the suitcases. “We both know you are not leaving to mourn my mother.”
King Melic folds his hands in front of him. For a few minutes, we stand there staring at one another in a silent dare for someone to retreat. It won’t be me. I’ve given enough. I should have fought harder for my mother. The least I can do is fight for this. Fight to keep Violence safe. Fight to keep my court safe.
The king gives in first.
“Write the letter, and I’ll tell you everything.”
15
Violence
When dawn strikesacross the pretty meadow in hues of gold and pure white, I already know how I’ll take Jeriko’s life. She sleeps soundly, but I’d never stoop low enough to kill someone in their sleep. Someday, I’ll hold her manic gaze, stare up into her eyes, and slam a blade right through her little black heart.
Carver stares at me as he starts to pull on his thin white shirt.
I’m planted against my tree again, waiting for the others to wake. Carver woke an hour ago, took one look at me, and has been watching me with his sad puppy dog eyes since.
Cameron stirs at my side. A leaf clings to her hair, a twig sticking off the side of her shirt. I pluck them off one by one. She smiles lazily before stretching with a groan that is caught short as she catches the way Carver watches me.
“Does everyone want to fuck you?” Cameron’s words catch my attention, and I look down at her, threading my hands through her thick hair and finding more bits of nature.
