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I throw her a look. “Why?”
She shrugs. “Because you’ve never dragged me to the bed so fast.”
I laugh, hoping she buys my bluff. “Well, ye’re a long time deyed,” I pronounce in flawless Talan-Feyalian.Enjoy life, for once you are dead, it’s forever.
Franzy cups my cheeks. Kneels up. Kisses me. Eyes darting between mine. As if she’s read my lie and understands my body’s trembling beneath my strong mask. How my muscles brace for the wedding night. The Nether-mark claws at my spine. Except it’s not fear. It’s hatred.
“Don’t die, Isla, please,” she whimpers.
Donning a proud smirk, neck high, I kneel up with her. Mimic her by cupping her cheeks. “Sweet fool. I’m the first tribute in centuries, I have the favor of the Corpse King, I’ve accepted Kryach’s mark, and tasted the Isles’ sweetness. And there is so much more I long to do!”
With that, I kiss her and grow vines bursting with purple bell-heather?Franzy’s favorite. The symbol of admiration. Of solitude. It’s who she will always be to me.
* * *
When Queen Gryzelda enters my suite a short time later, she doesn’t balk at Franzy and me tangled together. She simply commands the Feyal-maids to escort Franzy to her suite for preparation while she oversees mine.
Now, I relax, tension abating in my shoulders as the Feyal-maids attend to washing and combing my hair while I settle into the heated spring water of the bath. Earlier, I’d applied a powdered seal over the base of my spine to conceal the Nether-mark. It won’t dissolve in water and will keep through dawn.
At least Kryach doesn’t appear for my preparation. Since our last encounter, I’ve stopped calling himAry. Dread rolls in my stomach at the thought of what could happen. All will depend on Allysteir. No, I press my lips together, posture because tonight, I will no longer be Isla?the farm girl from Cock Cross, the forger of elder seals, the Bone Games victor, the wild girl who dove into the Cryth River, and the first tribute in centuries. Tonight, I will become Queen of Nathyan Ghyeal. My glorious redoing! Whatever happens tonight will be my own gods-damned choice.
I heave a sigh, remembering what Franzy said about Allysteir and me. How he’s welcomed me on his Death business, cherished it. How he’s joined me for every midday meal and brought pomegranates every time?careful and attentive to tap seeds into a goblet for me. He’s already treated me like a queen, served me as one. Surely the same will apply to my...brideflesh.
After the Feyal-maids finish and depart, leaving me alone with the Queen, I brace myself and flex my fists beneath the water?prepared for her admonishments, her assaults. To my surprise, Gryzelda merely assumes a comb and gently rakes it through my soaked waves.
“I didn’t have the heart to accept the shadow-mark,” she confesses, fingering my strands.
At first, I want to dismiss her words. It was impulsivity, not heart. And maddening desire for the tempting Isle-fruit. But I still would devour them, would choose them.
To sample a piece of the gods, to tempt Kryach himself, to willingly accept immortality is worth never leaving this deep world.
To deny myself any freedom, any desire, any choice would have been a far worse prison than becoming a forever Queen of the Underworld.
“Is this where you remind me of how Kryach will leave nothing but darkness in my soul?” I tilt my neck ever so little, catching her gaze.
“No.”
Silence thickens the air between us. On and on, she combs until I nearly sink deeper into the water, my shoulders relaxing, breaths easing. Until finally...
“This is where I tell you how to cheat him.”
I stiffen, shiver from Gryzelda’s voice because Kryach’s mark hums within my blood, thrumming my pulse. Of course, he’s still bound to me. Knit into the fabric of my being and emotions.
“Isla, how much do you know of the past Corpse King? My husband?” inquires Gryzelda, dragging the comb, fingers calculating.
“Only a little. He was young when he died. Allysteir was only?”
“Fifteen, yes. Very young to accept Kryach’s Curse.” She breathes deep, pausing in her pursuit of my hair. “The God of Death had devoured so much of my soul by then. My contempt for the King had grown because the more he fucked me, the more Kryach took from me. So, I sought reclamation, peace,lovewherever I believed. It’s why Allysteir was born of a different man than Aydon’s father. But after the King executed him, the last seam of my soul cleaved. I knew I wouldn’t last another night if Kryach sampled upon me through the King. So, I...” her words trail off, her hands frantic as she resumes her combing.
Tangled in countless knots, I embrace the heaviness in my chest. A heaviness for her and turn around, stopping her hand. Her storm-clad eyes of gray winter are lost in memories of the past. Of the former Corpse King who perished under suspicious circumstances following the break in the Curse. The urban legend of an assassination has plagued all of Talahn-Feyal.
Gryzelda’s eyes darken with shadows. A contrast to her ostentatious gown. A gold-gilded bone bodice adorns it while fire and earth jewels decorate her magnificent skirts of pix-silk and lace. As if she enriches her body to the extreme because she may never reclaim her soul. At this moment, I don’t begrudge her or any of her past transgressions. Instead, I pity her.
At the deep weight of her revelation, heavier than all the mines of Nathyan Ghyeal, I touch my fingertips to the back of her hand clutching the comb and shake my head. “I would never...Allysteir is?”
“No different,” she refutes, shaking her head. “Loathing, indifference...they were the most I could grant him when Kryach took him. I knew I couldn’t grieve or I’d grieve for all eternity! He’s the son of my only true love. The one scrap of emotion Kryach could not reap from me even if the last Corpse King did. Allysteir will be no different. Kryach infects him too much.”
Blinking rapidly, I shake my head in denial, my strands thwacking against my cheek. I consider all the events of the past few weeks. How Allysteir has honored me. How Kryach vowed to rape my soul whenever he desired. They are the most extreme opposites I’ve encountered.
