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That is the truth, isn’t it? I should have done what I believed to be told to me by the gods. I should have had the faith to know that what was foretold was meant to be. But I am selfish. I wanted to keep her for my own personal gains, to impress the girl I love.
And it cost me my parents.
Was that a price I would have paid, had I known? Was killing your parents worth it, Dace?
“You’re right,” I agreed, my tongue now heavy behind my lips. “I should have killed you. The gods blessed my people with prophetic dreams and I dismissed them. All it’s done is bring more death into my life.”
“Nasty sinner,” Geeta whispered, finally dragging her attention back to me.
I squeezed my eyes shut at the words. Nasty sinner. It’s what you are, isn’t it? Nasty sinner, nasty sinner.
My fault.
MY FAULT.
It’s all my fault.
With a shake of my head, I tried to rock the words from my mind, but the chanting of my self-deprecating thoughts only continued, albeit a bit more quietly. When I cracked my eyes back open the floor spun.
“Don’t you wish to know why I saved your life?”
Jesseline folded her arms as the witch scoffed at me, yet she watched me closer than she watched Geeta. My level of intoxication probably had something to do with that.
“You probably want to keep me to use me for my magic. Why else do Fae keep us as pets?”
There it was again, the inference that someone somewhere had kept her. Ottack perhaps? He was a greedy king who fancied having one of everything.
“You’re right, again.” Moving too quickly I stood, trying to be smooth, as I pointed my finger in the air like I was having a revelation. Geeta’s lip curled as she looked at my finger.
“Kind of,” I continued. “I have a few questions and if the answer is that your magic can fix it, then yes, I need your help.”
“I’m not helping you.” Her head tilted back as she laughed. Her shoulders shook enough that the movement rattled her chains.
A knock sounded at the door. Jesseline reluctantly peeled herself from the spot she occupied and cracked the door open.
“Oh, good,” she muttered, reaching out into the hall. As the door clicked shut behind her she walked toward me carrying a small platter of crackers, cheese, and meat, along with a large glass of water.
A smile came to my lips. My stomach rumbled to remind me that I’d had little to eat today and drinking wasn’t technically considered a meal. I moved closer to the witch and crossed my legs under me as I made myself comfortable on the floor in front of her.
Geeta had been here for quite a while and I’m not sure she’d had anything to eat. The tips of her teeth poked out from over her lip, extending as her gaze flicked down to my plate then up to me.
I took my time gulping down water out of the damp, sweat covered glass and made myself a cracker stacked with slices of meat and cheese. I sunk my teeth into the meat and groaned.
Food was better when you were drunk. That was just the truth.
“Are you hungry?” I arched a brow and held out the plate.
Her nostrils flared as she sniffed the air. “I don’t eat food like you do.”
“What do you survive on? Blood?”
Her jaw clenched as she ground her teeth together and pulled her shoulders back. Rather than answering she pursed her lips. Bingo.
“Blood it is.” I smiled, taking a large drink. My boots squeaked against the floor as I rotated to look at Jesseline. “Do you have a knife on you? What am I saying? You’re an assassin, of course you do.” I motioned for her to hand it over. “Let me borrow it for a moment.”
“Are you going to do something stupid?” She raised her eyebrows, her hand slipping into an unseen pocket in the twist of her shirt. “You are, aren’t you?”
“That’s a rude thing to say to your King. Why would you say that?”
