“As your king, I am telling you I will not marry whatever stranger you bring my way,” Luc says, raising his voice. The back and forth between them is almost comical, if it weren’t for what is at stake.
“It doesn’t have to be real,” I say, thinking of Tempest’s and my engagement as I try to calm everyone down. “You could marry anyone. It could be Absinthe for all they care. They’re not asking you to fall in love.”
He shakes his head, and there’s a kind of vicious gleam in his icy eyes, tendrils of shadows coming off him like poisonous vapor. “Are none of you listening? They are asking me to produce an heir.”
“Brother, you’re being unreasonable,” Raph says, but Lucstorms out of the tent, his physical form leaving, only a dark shadow left in its place.
We all stare at one another in utter shock, and Raph whispers an apology before following his sibling.
“This is actually ridiculous. Why is he behaving like a petulant child?” I ask, frustrated by the lack of decorum being displayed by our leader.
“I think his decision to leave was mature and logical,” Draven says, and I furrow my brows.
“How so?”
One corner of Draven’s mouth ticks up. “Because if he didn’t excuse himself, one of us was going to leave here severely injured, and I’d bet money it would’ve been me.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just irritated. We have to decide how to react to this letter,” I say.
“And we will. He doesn’t need to make this decision; he just has to follow our plans,” Draven points out. “Even if he wants to throw a tantrum.”
It’s times like this I wish Draven were king.
“Honestly, I don’t blame him.” Reina shrugs. “I mean, that’s how I reacted when you all suggested Khalid should marry Tempest.”
“That’s different. You and Khalid are in a committed relationship,” I say.
“Yeah, fangs. Khalid actually likes you. Lilian can’t stand Luc,” Draven says in jest.
Luc hurt Lilian, but that was in the past. Regardless of how we feel about Baelor, he’s still her husband. Luc needing a spouse all of a sudden doesn’t change that reality.
“Do we have anyone in mind for Luc, maybe someone he’d actually like?” Gemma asks.
I’m about to jokingly suggest Baphomet when Absinthe storms into the tent. Her hair is slicked back with sweat, her makeup melted and sloppy.
“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Absinthe says, pacing the floor, her hands shaking. “I don’t understand.”
“Absinthe.” Draven stands, hurrying over towards her. She’s tall, but he’s taller, and he lets his sister press her head against his chest.
There’s a few beats of silence before full-body sobs rack through Absinthe’s body, her voice shaking as her breaths heave.
“I was looking through unsolved cases when I noticed something odd connecting a bunch of rapes,” she starts, tears still falling. “I followed Baelor and he… he was going to attack this girl. She can’t be older than nineteen and he was going to?—”
Absinthe is fully wailing now, and my heart breaks for her.
My heart breaks for Lilian.
Hel might not have a strong formal judicial system, but we still keep track of what happens. Murders, legal or not, are documented. Sexual assault and battery are never legal. When cases go unsolved by trained investigators for too long, Luc has started passing them over to us.
Unfortunately, I think I know exactly which unsolved cases Absinthe is referring to, and the details are horrific.
Tears fill Gemma and Reina’s eyes, and I have to focus to not let the emotions overwhelm me.
He lives in our camp, works alongside us. Not just near us, but near Una and Po, too. I don’t like Baelor, but never once did I imagine that this was what he was capable of. My brain starts to sift through experiences, re-categorizing them. A look I brushed off suddenly has weight; a moment he stood too close to Reina changes in feeling.
I feel so stupid. I made so many excuses. I told myself that this was just who he is. Every time I saw him, my stomach clenched, but I chalked it up to him just being a shitty husband to my best friend. Never did I imagine there was a monster lurking among us.
A sudden, overwhelming sense of grief overcomes me. Imourn the old dynamic of the carnies, because I know it’ll never be the same. I can never unsee what’s been brought to the light.
