Page 38 of Season Warriors & Wolves

“I’d hope you would understand,” he said, sighing and pinning a disappointed look on me. “Me and you are one of the same, child. You remind me too much of my younger self to not appreciate the effort and skill. Weren’t you my greatest disappointment, you would have been my biggest achievement.”

“Weren’t your murder my biggest regret, it would have been my biggest pleasure.” I stood and gestured to him in the holy sign, two fingers on my brow and two on my heart. “To Hodr, might it welcome us all. People pray for heaven, praise a god for the fruit they will receive, not for what power they have or how it will serve them. The fruit you are offering is rotten. Spoiled. Something they have already tasted, grown sick off.” Bowing with some over dramatic flair, I retreated towards the door. “Collecting coins? No?”

I’d just laid a rose on my mother’s grave when another presence filled the empty space. Moregan hid under the maze wall shadows, her face concealed under a cloak.

“What was so important that it couldn’t wait?”

“Adriata’s queen mother has died. I thought you might have wanted to know.”

The world spun around me for a moment and my knees gave away. Dread, so much dread crossed my sight until it blurred and darkened.

Driada was dead?

It had to be a lie. Kilian would have not let her die. My Kilian would have fought the God of Death himself to keep her here. At least until she could see Mal again. Not now. He wouldn’t…she…she couldn’t have died. “Lies.”

“I’m afraid not.”

My eyes drew shut and air entered my lungs too sparingly to let me speak. “How did the news come about?”

“Silas’s spies. The information comes from a close source.”

“Close?”

“From his court.”

His spy. Someone close to Kilian if they knew. “And do you know who it is?”

“No. Just that it is the same person that gave away your friend’s and the prince’s location in Eldmoor. The information is collected at Highwall through sparse code words. Adriatian patrol is too tight to let much slip out, but enough to know the most important bits.”

No matter how much I tried to distract the pain knotting on my chest, it was too severe to ignore. I didn’t know there were so many tears left in me to spare for another. Silencing my grief didn’t help either because sobs escaped as worse sounds—pained whimpers that made my throat scratch and bleed.

“Are you…are you alright?” Moregan asked after a while.

No. Maybe I was not.

Adriatian guards followed me closely up until I took that turn towards the dungeons. The two blocked my path, weapons drawn. “The king has denied permission for visits.”

“Since when is my wretched father your king, you miserable cunts?” I reached until his blade was pressed to my ribs and tearing through my clothes.

He drew back, stunned, but I pushed again till he was forced to sheath his sword into its holster. “The king—”

“Will do what? Kill me? Kill you?”

“Yes.”

“Do I look like I care? If he kills me or you? Out of my way.” I pushed past them, rushing till more guards began to block my way. When someone reached to grab me, I spun round and grabbed onto a dagger strapped to their baldric, piercing their chest before turning to face the others. More blood spilled over the tiles when another tried to grab me.

“Let her,” Demir’s voice boomed, and everyone stepped back immediately. He coughed, a hand coming to rest on his chest. “Remember, princess, it was your choice to do so.”

There was no air in my lungs when I stood before his dark cell. His large form hunched over on the ground, face shielded away from me.

I just stood there long after. Wordless. How could one tell another they had lost their mother?

He didn’t move, nor acknowledge me though he’d seen me. Not for a while. “She is dead, isn’t she?”

“She is,” I whispered, forcing myself forward only to come to another halt when a string of light hit part of his face and I saw dried blood paint his skin. All I could hear was the sound of my heart. And a loud thud urging and drumming for blood. “Stand.”

He stretched a little. “I’ve just sat.”