Page 91 of Heart’s Rescue

My gut flops over like a fish in the marketplace, and for a heartbeat, I think I’m about to puke. I grit my teeth together and try to breathe.

“I demand you unhand me!” the monster shouts. “Do you even know who I am?”

“Prince Folwynn Orym Cairoris of the Kingdom of the Summer,” King Galan says, and his voice rings through the throne room.

Prince Folwynn stops squirming. Some bitter, nasty part of me is very glad to see that his arm is still in a sling.

“Well, yeah,” Folwynn says, with a pout.

“Prince Folwynn,” the king continues. “We are here to negotiate. I ask that you remain silent, or I will have you removed.”

Folwynn sniffs in a way that makes me want to punch him. Again. Harder this time.

“It’s hardly fair that I have guards and she doesn’t,” Folwynn says, tilting his head at Arryn in a way that makes my blood feel hot.

“The Lady Arryn Damoira has yet to murder anyone,” Aloserin replies.

King Galan turns his gaze back to Arryn. Her back stiffens. Voids, she’s so elegant out there, in her element. It doesn’t seem possible that she was a part of my life, even for a moment. It doesn’t seem possible that we ever touched. That would be like touching the stars.

“Lady Arryn,” the king says, leaning forward on his throne. “I hear you’re threatening to stab yourself with a butter knife.”

Arryn raises her hand. The light catches on a tiny knife in her fist just as she holds it to her ribcage.

Voids, no! The king raises his eyes for a moment, just long enough to stare at me, and then drops them back to Arryn. I jam my fist in my mouth to keep quiet.

“Leverage, Your Highness,” Arryn replies. Her voice is as clear as a crystal. “If you’re going to use my heart, I have a condition.”

“Why would you want her heart?” Folwynn growls from behind Arryn.

“Ah, yes,” the king says, ignoring the monster who almost murdered my brother. “The release of the prisoner.”

“Oh!” Folwynn cries, and I have to turn away because if I spend even one heartbeat longer watching the smug expression on that prince’s face I’m going to bust through this wooden screen and punch him into bloody oblivion.

“That’s right,” Arryn says, and her voice is so calm, so even.

Voids, I never stood a chance against her. Not one chance.

“I want to see him walk through the castle gates,” Arryn continues. “Unharmed. And I want your royal word that you will not seek him out for further punishment.”

“Yeah!” Folwynn adds, like an absolute dipshit.

My blood simmers beneath my skin. She wants Folwynn to walk out of the castle gates? She wants to set the monster who murdered three of my neighbors loose in the Crystal City?

“And if I do all this?” the king asks.

Arryn’s head dips. The little knife trembles against her ribcage. “I’ll give you my heart,” she says. “Willingly. For your magic.”

Silence falls in the room. It’s as heavy as snow, and in that silence, I can hear my heart raging against every bad decision I’ve ever made. I was a fool to trust a monster from the Worlds Above. I was an idiot not to see through her from the moment we first met, the moment she spread her arms before me and begged for mercy.

And I’m even more of a fool now because I would do anything to keep her from giving her heart to the king. I reach for my magic, feel it trembling in the very foundations of the palace. I could rip this whole place apart. I could destroy everything to let Arryn keep her heart. But—

I force myself to look at the monster, the prince, who murdered Kara, Scarahia, and Gels. The monster who cut off my brother’s sword arm and left him dying in the snow. The monster Arryn is destined to marry. The man she journeyed to the Lands Below to save.

I’d thought my heart was already as broken as it could get, but no. I was wrong. As I watch Prince Folwynn’s smug, asshole smile and I realize Arryn’s already given away her heart, my chest cracks open yet again and whatever hope was left in there dribbles out onto the polished stone floor.

Thanks, Aloserin, I think bitterly. To see her one last time. What a great fucking idea. What a pal you are.

“You would do all that,” King Galan says, leaning forward. His voice is soft, but somehow it still carries throughout the entire room. “For Rowan Sans Evenworth?”