Page 11 of Yellow Belly

“I can’t.” Stefano sounded broken. It reminded Henry of the first time he’d been whipped, when Stefano—still a young boy—had collapsed with wracking sobs. His eyes had taken on a haunted quality that day, a quality that had never entirely faded.

Of course, Louis didn’t care about that. “Stop being a coward.”

Stefano leapt to his feet and charged toward Louis, who didn’t back away. “Stop treating me like a game piece! I am a person with wants of his own. And none of them are anything like what you lot have planned for me. Can’t you just leave me be?”

“No.”

Such a small word, yet it made Henry want to scream with rage. He had to play the obedient servant, however, keep his distance from the brothers, keep his expression neutral, keep his mouth closed. Regardless of what Stefano did, Louis likely wouldn’t let Henry live. After all, Henry had just heard his plans for regicide. But Henry couldn’t imagine going on with his own life without Stefano, so perhaps that was just as well.

“I ask you one final time,” said Louis. “Will you marry the princess?”

Gods, if Stefano would only say yes, it would buy them some time. If Henry tried again, he might be able to persuade Stefano to leave the kingdom. Assuming Henry lived long enough to make the effort.

But Stefano shook his head as he answered. “No.”

Perhaps Louis was truly sorrowful about this response, or perhaps he decided to pretend as if that were so. The corners of his mouth turned down and he sighed, and for a moment Henry saw his younger self. He was only two years older than Stefano and, when Henry first came to the palace, Louis and Stefano had lessons together. Louis hadn’t been friendly to Henry, but he also hadn’t objected to Henry joining them. And occasionally, when Stefano’s mind wandered too far from his tasks or he became overwhelmed with numbers and equations, Louis had helped. Those bits of assistance had saved Stefano from chastisement—and saved Henry from whippings.

Then Louis’s momentary youthful softness fled as if it had never existed, and he gave a curt nod. “I wish we had not come to this point.”

The air suddenly became still, the birds and insects fell silent, and the scents of mud and decay hit Henry so strongly that he nearly gagged. Louis lifted a hand and pointed a single finger at Stefano.

“No!” Henry cried, surging forward.

But he was too late.

A flash of light, as bright as the sun, blinded him, and a roar deafened his ears as he collapsed onto his hands and knees.

By the time he’d scrambled back to his feet and blinked his vision clear, Stefano was gone.

Henry bellowed and launched himself at Louis, easily hurdling the stone bench along the way. He had no weapons, so his hands would have to do. He would tear Louis to pieces and⁠—

He lost all control of his body and fell to the ground on his back. This time he could see and hear perfectly well, could feel the discomfort of one leg twisted awkwardly, but he couldn’t move anything except his eyes and mouth. That meant his vision was limited to only a patch of blue sky—until Louis stepped closer.

“Bastard,” Henry growled. “Murdering bastard! He was your brother and he never harmed anyone. He was smart and kind and worth more than all the rest of you combined, and⁠—”

“Shh,” said Louis. And then Henry couldn’t speak and was limited to glaring and waiting for the death blow. Now that he’d lost Stefano, he didn’t mind dying, but he wished he’d been able to cause Louis pain first.

Louis stared down at him in very much the same way that Stefano peered at interesting insects. “When my father brought you here, I doubt he anticipated that you would love Stefano. Certainly not that you would love him so well. I want you to know that neither I nor anyone else used magic to achieve that. Your feelings for my brother—and his for you—are entirely natural.”

It had crossed Henry’s mind, now and then, that enchantments had possibly been involved. He’d never discussed the matter with Stefano. Honestly, Henry wouldn’t have cared if a spell had been responsible, because whatever the cause, his love was genuine.

Louis walked away, and before Henry could wonder what he was up to, he returned. His hands were positioned as if cupped around something. Another deadly gesture, no doubt. Then he lifted the upper hand and revealed… a frog. It was a bit larger than most of those that lived in the pond, with bright green skin and bulging eyes.

“You must pay careful attention to what I say.” It was unclear whether Louis was addressing the frog or Henry. Paralyzed and helpless, Henry had no choice but to listen.

“The first thing you must understand is that love can be an enormous weakness. You’ve experienced this already: Cyrus has exploited Stefano’s affection for you and used it as a way to control his potentially wayward son. Love can prompt an unarmed man to attempt an attack on a prince who is also a wizard. And sometimes, grief for a lost love can be fatal.”

Why was Louis torturing him like this? Usually he spoke very little, and here he was with speeches and false sympathy, prolonging the inevitable. Let him get on with the killing!

“I will place iron bands around your heart, Henry, to keep it from breaking. You have been my brother’s loyal friend and you deserve that small mercy.”

Of course Henry couldn’t ask what in all hells he was talking about. All he could do was watch as Louis lifted the hand holding the frog higher, causing his sleeve to fall back and reveal a trio of narrow metal bracelets around his wrist. Eyes closed, he stroked the bands with two fingers. They disappeared.

A sharp agony engulfed Henry. It felt as if his chest had been impaled by a giant shard of ice. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, couldn’t even open his mouth to gasp.

The pain departed as quickly as it had arrived. Still lying twisted on the ground, still shocked at Stefano’s death and awaiting his own, Henry felt oddly calm. He found himself wondering whether there was an afterlife, and if so, whether Stefano awaited him. That was a pleasant possibility.

Louis crouched down and spoke softly. “The second thing you must understand is that Stefano is not dead. You see, I love him too.” He used the tip of one finger to pat the frog’s head.