Glancing down at her belly, I try to see if I managed to cover my tracks. But it’s too hard to see the cuts with all the blood in the way. My stomach churns, and I look up quickly, feeling myself go pale.
I recall all the horrors at the market, the dismembered body parts, the screaming parents and children. My cheeks bulge as I try to hold it down. But as Stephanie shrieks in agony, I vomit directly into her mouth.
She gags, then coughs. The acidic smell of her breath is making me feel even more ill. I try to push to my feet before I can be sick again, but I heave so hard, I fall forwards. My left hand lands on her chin, almost like I’m holding her mouth open. Her eyes widen as mine close, and I vomit all down her throat.
She pukes.
I puke again, covering her entire face.
She coughs, wheezing and thrashing, sending spittle and chunks of food flying free. I’m doing my best to hold the knife in place so it doesn’t move.
But the smell is overwhelming.
The motion isn’t ideal for my nausea either.
And I’m so busy being sick that I’m pretty certain I’m jerking the knife all over the place. Eventually, I lose my grip on the handle.
As she thrashes beneath me, I fall forwards. With my eyes still closed, I reach a hand out to catch myself. It hits her chest.Then sinks in.
My eyes snap open to see my hand has disappeared all the way inside her.
“Ahhhhhahahahahahahaha!” Screaming with laughter, I yank my arm up. It plops out of the knife wound easily enough – but so does a whole trail of intestines. My giggles get louder. Her screams get quieter.
I try to shake her organs off me, but they’re stuck on fast. So I shake my arm harder. And harder and harder. Until in my state of shock and horror, I realise her intestines aren’t falling back down because I have them clenched tightly in my fist.
Horrified, I open my hand, then scramble back and onto my feet. My laughter is coming out too fast to stop. Too loud. Too wild. Too much like its own beast.
Twisting my head, I look around for Fabia. Jace is the closest one to me, but my best friend isn’t far away. She’s got one hand on Nicholas’ arm, half-holding him back, half-using him for support as she stands there in shock. The entire room is silent.
Even Stephanie.
Just not me.
I laugh and laugh and laugh.
Wanting Richard desperately, I pick the chastity belt off the floor, then turn for the door. Jace moves with me. The nobles are all staring at me. The guards are all slack-jawed too. Only Echo looks the same as always, her otherworldly stare oddly comforting to the chaotic state of my soul.
I reach the door, then stop and turn around. My eyes find Nicholas. “Your neck’s…” I say as I lift a hand and run a fingeracross the base of it. I meant to tell him earlier that he got a bit of soup on it, but I forgot. He just stares at me, but I don’t have it in me to explain further. I’m so utterly exhausted. My soul so completely destroyed. Who knew stabbing someone was such hard work? Richard made it look so easy...
Desperate to find my king, I walk out of the hall, still laughing so hard I can’t hear myself think.
But oh… I can still hear her screams.
Twenty-Seven
If anyone interferes with the Fairy Intelligence, they will be charged with treason.
They think I’m a monster? I will show them what it means to be a monster.
- King Richard
I don’t say a fucking word as I barge into the room where I’m meeting Evangeline. She’s sitting on the floor as a show of peace, her prosthetic leg propped up on the sofa behind her. She knows I’m pissed about being attacked, and this is her way of – well, not apologising, per say, but telling me that she isn’t about to do anything else to piss me off. In this moment, at least.
Any other time, it would’ve worked. I know how to play fucking politics.
But not this time.
She tried to kill mywife.
