The image of my mother’s bloody corpse flashes through my mind. I grind my teeth all the way through The Compound until I reach that swirling vortex of power and step through it.
Walking through the Mad King’s power is like free-falling several stories but in only one step. We’re weightless but plummeting as though we are thousands of pounds. My clothing lifts from my skin, wind catches under the fabric, and Violence’s body starts to lift from my arms. If I hold her any tighter, I might just break her.
But then my foot hits the ground on the other side. Sun shines down on my cheeks and washes over her frail body. She’s even morehollowin the daylight.
“Holy fuck, is that Violence?” Casimir leaves the carriage he was leaning against and walks quickly to my side.
“Father is slowly killing her, which is why this is so important. It’s going to take a bloody miracle to get her looking well for Prince Dalziel.” I nod my head to the first of two carriages, the one that Violence and I will be riding in. Casimir follows the unspoken command and pulls the door open for me so I can prop our sister inside.
I situate her in the seat with much more care than whoever had tossed her into her room. Satisfied, I step out of the carriage and squint up into the sun, trying to guess the hour. We need to be leaving soon.
“Got that Witch still?” I ask. When I look to Casimir, a large white dot blots out most of my vision.
“Right inside the other coach where she ought to be. She’s probably released now that Violence is here. Witch was acting as if her insides were about to turn to stew due to the distance between them for a few minutes.” He knocks a knuckle against the carriage door as he pushes it closed. “I thought she looked terrible, but Violence might have her beat.”
“Yeah, that little brat punched me right in the jaw. She thought I was trying to kill her.”
He barks a laugh. “Oh, Ilikeher.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fast friends.”
The carriage rocks against his heavy weight as Casimir crosses his arms and leans into it once more. “Is Queen Valentina coming?”
My eyes could burrow holes into the wide palace doors with how intently I watch them, hoping Valentina’s face might appear. I shrug, trying to remain nonchalant instead of showing him how utterly nervous I am.
If she comes, then it’s like she’s saying yes to whatever it is between us. If she doesn’t... ugh, I don’t want to think about it... if she doesn’t, that means she’s closing the door on us for good. The door that shouldn’t even be open because she’s one of my father’s wives. It might be tradition in our Court of Darkness for the Fae ruler to take several wives so that he might sire several heirs, but I can’t imagine wanting anyone other than Valentina when I’m on that throne.
A foolish desire. A prince with an irrational heart that refuses to listen to the logic of his own brain.
“Why don’t we just wait a few more minutes before we head out?” Casimir offers, equally as nonchalant. Yet I see through his mask just as well as I’m sure he has seen through mine.
My attention falls to the ground. I study my boots with a sigh. “I talked to her this morning, but I didn’t think we’d be leaving so quickly. Notice from Prince Dalziel came rather quickly, which is a good thing for Violence, but it didn’t give Valentina any time to think.”
“I’m sure it will all work out,” he responds, a level of sorrow to his tone.
“Is it working out for you?” Instantly, I regret saying it. I thought the words, and I let them slip from my mouth without considering their impact.
Casimir makes a sound something like a sigh and a groan. “It’s not finished until it’s finished.”
“Have you seen him?”
“No. Arius has him on lockdown. Queen Lairis is already spinning a tale that there was a third assassin whom Aeton caught and killed but not without his own injury. The lie is better than the truth... I guess.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think the lie is better than the truth. When I am king, you may have any man of your choosing,” I lower my voice to a whisper, “though I truly hope you find one that you aren’t related to.”
Casimir huffs a rough laugh. “Looks like things might work out better for you, brother.” His eyes drift over my shoulder.
I spin, sending loose gravel scattering around our feet. The door to the palace closes with a soft thud, and there, wind blowing at her hair and skirts, stands Queen Valentina with a servant and her bags at her back. Her gaze catches mine, then she smiles.
“Sorry, I’m a few minutes late,” she calls, taking a careful step down, “I was having trouble deciding which dress might best represent our king.”
Casimir saves me as he waves a hand at the servant to put her bags away since I have gone still, not even hardly able to breathe. A slow smile splits my face as Valentina takes the stairs and strolls to the carriage.
“Which ride is mine?” the queen asks gently, holding her hair out of her face with a gloved hand.
“You’ll ride there with Merrick, and I’ll ride with Violence andcompany,” Casimir offers. “In fact, let me just clear this carriage out for you.”
I shake my laugh, wanting to laugh at how good Casimir is to me despite his own similar and failing situation. Together, Valentina and I stand in silence as Casimir jogs around the opposite side of the carriage and escorts the Witch into the same seat as Violence. Cameron is nothing more than whispered curses and a glimpse of fire red hair that comes then goes. Casimir’s face appears in the windows as he waves at us with a cheeky grin.
