Page 142 of Blood Curse

“Slow. Cold. Still fucking walking.”

The front doors stood open. Warm light spilled across the steps, along with three members of the court carrying towels, blankets and something that steamed in a heavy mug.

They stopped well short of us.

The grey-braided woman held up a folded blanket. “May I?”

I nodded.

She draped it around my shoulders without bowing or calling me queen. A younger vampire passed the mug to Stellan. Somebody else put two wrapped heating bricks on the bench inside the entrance, then all three disappeared towards the Night Hall.

No staring. No fuss. Just warmth and space.

Nobody knelt as I passed. The released oaths had changed the smallest movements first. Doors were held because hands chose to hold them. Help was offered and could be refused. I hadn’t realised how tense every ordinary kindness had made me until it stopped carrying the threat of obedience.

“I like them,” I said.

Mara opened her coat. “Don’t tell them. They’ll become unbearable.”

The mug contained broth strong enough to make my empty stomach clench. I drank while Stellan supported the bottom, because my hands had started shaking too hard to trust with hot liquid.

I hated needing the help.

I hated falling over more.

His mouth moved, almost a smile. The fear stayed in his pale eyes.

I finished half the broth and handed it back. “King’s rooms. I need dry clothes.”

Elias came level with us. “The Crown stays where it is.”

“I know.”

The stairs nearly finished me.

I climbed them anyway, pausing twice while Stellan pretended to study the pictures on the wall. He didn’t make the pauses into a victory or the climb into a test. When we reached the King’s rooms, he opened the door and let me cross first.

The choice shouldn’t have mattered after the gate.

It did.

Harrowmere hadn’t dragged me back. The Crown had attacked my heart, and I had chosen the safest place available while we worked out how to kill it. Returning didn’t turn the house into my owner.

The road wouldn’t have freed me from the metal fused to my scalp. I could have staggered after the departing vampires and collapsed in a ditch instead of on Harrowmere’s drive. That wasn’t independence. It was dying somewhere less comfortable to prove a point nobody had asked me to make.

My choice to return made Harrowmere shelter.

For tonight, that was enough.

Lenora had reached the rooms ahead of us. Dry clothes waited on the bed, and a bowl of hot water sat on the dressing table beside clean cloths. She pointed towards the bathroom.

“Wet clothes off. Elias can deal with your head when you’re dry.”

Her gaze travelled over my soaked clothes and pale hands. “You need warmth and rest.”

She looked at Stellan. “Help her if she asks. Don’t hover if she doesn’t.”

“I know.”