Narrowing my eyes, I pick up the pen and scrawl:
This is not Deirdre. It’s King Morningstar.
“My king, you coming?” Arienna asks from her spot near the table. Jace stands beside her, between her and Deirdre. The necromancer’s hands are full of crisps, showing Jace she means no harm – her hands in sight and occupied with non-lethal objects.
We were friends once…
Aurelia asked us to watch out for you...
As the light turns green, I say, “Just a second.”
My apologies, Your Majesty. I Forgot that was a number in itself. I shall get right on making that well-known amount for you.
My eyes narrow further. Still buzzing with the need to kill something, I think about ending this insolent chef.
After we get our meal though.
And once Arienna is asleep.
And then after she wakes up and gets breakfast…
Four. What’s your name?
The light turns green.
Evangeline.
Of course it fucking is. After crumbling up the note and tossing it in the bin, I head over to the table. My eyes land on my wife, my smiling, happy wife who doesn’t belong in this world.
Aurelia didn’t belong here either…
Thirty-Six
A good little slut takes her punishment like a good girl.
I’m going to bite him.
- Arienna
“So how do I throw a knife?” I ask as I reach for one with a black handle just as my king stops beside me. He takes a drink from his glass before placing it down on the table and picking up a pink blade.
“This is the cutting edge,” he says, running his finger along the side of the metal. “With throwing knives, you can throw either by holding the blade or the handle. These are recreational ones so their blades aren’t sharp, meaning you will have to do something absolutely stupid to cut yourself.” His eyes narrow as he pauses. “Don’t try it.”
Mine widen. “What? I wouldn’t test something like that on purpose.” But my traitorous finger runs along the edge even as he watches. He’s right. It’s dull enough not to cut.
“Arienna.”
“Sorry,” I say, putting the knife down and placing my hands behind my back. I smile sweetly at him. He doesn’t look amused.
“These are not toys, my queen.”
“But it is a game?” Biting my lip, I glance away. I really want to try my hand at throwing them now that Deirdre isn’t about to be murdered. Warmth pools in my chest over the knowledge that I saved her. I finally fixed something in this broken world. Perhaps I can fix Richard and Deirdre’s broken friendship too…
“Sorry,” I say as I lean up on my toes and kiss his cheek. “I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”
Exhaling gruffly, Richard grabs the knife by its blade and points it at the target, his elbow bent. “Line it up, using the end as the sight. You want to keep your wrist locked as you pull your arm back.” He arcs his behind him so his elbow faces forwards. “On release, don’t flick your wrist. Keep your arm straight and let the knife just slip through your fingers.”
He flings it quickly. The blade spins through the air and embeds itself into the middle of the target. My mouth falls open as my eyes widen with delight. Grinning excitedly, I reach for the table. “I want to try!”
