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On the countertop that held a bowl of clean water sat a small piece of black velvet. I could tell from where I stood that it was folded in half. It didn’t look like it belonged in the neat pile of hand towels that sat to the right of the bowl. I approached, slowly lifting back the top piece of velvet.
A dagger with simple golden cross guards and a dark wooden grip stared back at me. A single diamond cut into an oval sat at the top of the handle. My eyes widened as I instinctually looked in the mirror, eyeing the closed door behind me. Beside the dagger on the bed of velvet was a sheath that was connected to a strap — a thigh strap, I realized. Whose was this? Who had been in my quarters?
I folded the velvet over the weapon, realizing this was not the time to be concerned with something so trivial compared to my life ending. As I reached the door, though, I paused. Had this been leftforme? If someone had left this by mistake and came back to retrieve it, they could easily pin me as the thief, especially considering my past. But this wasn’t a handkerchief someone left behind by mistake, taken with more pressing matters. This was a weapon arranged on a bed of velvet, the sheath and strap laid delicately behind it. Maybe ithadbeen left for me. I knew I didn’t have much time before my mother came to see what was taking me so long.
Before I could blink, I slung my leg on the counter, hiking up the layers of skirts and petticoats to my hip. I grabbed the dagger, holding it closely to my eyes. The inscription was so light that I had to turn the dagger to read it.
THE MERCY OF KATIA
I flipped it, seeing words inscribed on the other side as well.
THE FURY OF RHEDROS
More of the Saints’ bullshit. I hadn’t the slightest idea how to wield the thing, but I supposed that having a blade was better than being empty handed. Right?
Quickly, I slid the strap up my leg, fumbling with the ends to tighten it. Sheathing the dagger, I let my skirts drop to the ground. I took a few small jumps to ensure it was secure against my leg, my heart pounding so intensely I was sure my mother would hear it on the other side of the door.
One last look in the mirror, a deep breath, and I was ready as I would ever be.
???
Castemont stared at me as I exited my quarters, my mother trailing behind me. This man who had become so dear to me, who I had grown to trust…that trust now crumbled before me, ash and dust replacing the warmth that had once been. “You look absolutely lovely, darling,” he said sweetly. I said nothing, locking my eyes with his and turning down the hall. The dagger burned against my leg as I fought back the urge to sink it into his chest. My mother and Castemont walked side by side behind me, Tyrak’s steady presence bringing up the rear.
The tang of salt air floated from Pellucid Harbor to the breezeway outside Castemont Hall. The smell wrapped me in the comfort of Inkwell. Ofhome.A home I would never see again.
Before the pain of that realization could take over, I pushed it over the breezeway, letting it shatter on the city streets below. And as it splintered into thousands of tiny pieces, I heard a ruffle behind me. On the other railing of the breezeway perched a ciakoo.
It was a split second; just long enough for the bird to see me, cock its head, and take off again before my mother or Castemont noticed. Against the sky and sun, its feathers were molten night, the dark blue and deep violet and emerald like liquid on its wings. I let the sight of it drip into my veins. It was enough to keep me walking.
The doors to the throne room lay ahead and my heartbeat made its way to the back of my throat. My heartbeat stopped altogether as I looked to the left wall.
Wrena’s arms were bound over her head, her shoulders unnaturally bent behind her, her throat slit from ear to ear. Slow trickles of blood still dripped down her naked body, pooling on the stones beneath her.
I stumbled back, my head shaking violently as bile rose in my throat. The sob came from so deep it was silent, my body folding in half. “The sacred rites of the Initiation are a secret only shared by those who have entered into the Royal Court,” Castemont said in a low voice behind me, repeating the words he said to me in the dining hall two days prior. My mother was silent. Stars whirled in my vision as I began to wretch, nothing coming up as my body painfully convulsed.I killed her. It’s my fault she’s dead. I killed her. I killed her. I killed her.The guilt took over, the pounding at my chest like boulders down a mountain. And as those boulders crashed down one by one, I remembered.
I had never asked the name of her lover.
I felt a large hand on my bare shoulder, the callouses telling me it was Castemont’s. He pushed me slightly to the right, and this time not only my heart stopped but my lungs, my brain, my very sense of being.
Hanging in the same position, only recognizable by the warm, familiar face, was Marita. She was naked as Wrena was, evidence of her four years at the Painted Empress like hash marks across her body, slashes of thickened skin covered in blood. The hair that had been under her bonnet was shorn to the root, her eyes bulging open. The blood…so much blood, her body plated in crimson. In the silence of the entry hall, the dripping echoed around me.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
I didn’t have the strength to bend over and wretch. I didn’t have the strength to hit the floor. I didn’t have the strength to turn around and dig my thumbs into Castemont’s eyes or slit his throat deeply enough to kill him. I wanted to push him over the breezeway, watch him flail and scream. I closed my eyes, letting the scorching fury build, set my skin ablaze, the blood in my veins as thick as the molten night I had seen in the sky just minutes ago.
If I broke now, if I erupted into the fire that was burning so bright within me, I’d have no chance of standing against any of the Board members. I wiped my lips on my wrist, my mouth acidic and eyes burning, and righted myself.
I slowly turned to the two people who stood behind me. I met my mother’s gaze first. She quickly averted hers once again as I realized her eyes were swollen, reddened. She shook her head.
Turning my head to Castemont, I noted his stern face, but the left corner of his mouth rose ever so slightly.
“Why?” I whispered, keeping my tone as even as possible. My jaw was painfully clenched.
“We were unable to verify whether Marita gave you information as well,” he said steadily, his arms behind his back.
“She didn’t,” I hissed.
“We couldn’t take any risks.” Lava boiled inside me and I tried my hardest to swallow it back. If I lunged on Castemont now, I’d be taken away before even seeing the Board of Blood.
I held his stare as I took one big breath, two, then three. I looked at my mother once more. Nothing. Not even an apologetic glance. I wished more than anything to watch him bleed, watch him suffer as Wrena and Marita — myfriends— had suffered. I swallowed my violence and turned around.
I lost everything four years ago. The people who meant the most to me, all of them, gone. I had coped with it as best I could, pushed through it, gritted my teeth through the pain. Now, once again, two of the most important people in my life were taken from me. I fought back images of them dying, begging for mercy. I heard their screams just as I still heard Larka’s. Saw their dead eyes as I saw Da’s. Felt the crevice in my heart crack open once again as I thought of the only man I’d ever loved rotting in the ground. My heart hardened in that moment, all because of this man who had promised to be a father to me.
