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A servant had entered from behind the throne steps, carrying a large bowl with a mound of dried red rose petals in the center of a shallow pool of steaming water. The smell of them was pungent and wrong, my mind immediately traveling back to that beautiful garden where I’d smelled them before.
Roses were the sigil of Basilius’s royal line, and it was only now that I realized that the room was filled with them. They sat in every vase, were stitched on the linings of dresses, coats and cuffs. They were engraved on golden goblets and painted on plates, dishes and decanters. The scent of them suddenly became suffocating. How could I have missed it before?
The roses were poisoned.
The roses were poisoned.
The roses were poisoned.
My eyes bounced between the servant and the steaming rose water as she neared the king, and it was as if time stood still. I couldn’t hear a single word out of the king’s mouth as I began to move.
The look in the servant’s eyes was blank, devoid of any sort of emotion, thought or feeling as she pivoted on the last step to the dais, purposely tripping over her dress to make it look accidental.
I shouted before I could help myself, lurching forward and pulling a small dagger from my leg holster through the slit of my dress. The guards rushed me from every corner of the room. Nero reached for his sword, pulling it free, and yet didn’t rush towards me. The look in his eyes was one of confusion as he tilted his head, trying to get a read on me.
I made it up the steps, only inches away from throwing myself at the blank-eyed servant who fell towards the king, ready to spill the entire bowl of poison over his royal head. I managed to throw myself sideways, shoving the servant out of the path of the king. The woman fell backwards, the bowl clattering down the steps, spilling rose petals and steaming water everywhere.
Before I had the chance to right myself, strong hands wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me from where I’d practically fallen into the king’s lap. I dropped the dagger as Caldor, Rijjat, and Remus rushed up the stairs behind me, shouting my name, but the host of the king's guard got there first. Each man was knocked to the ground and held there by my spear tip, ready for the king’s command.
Nero twisted me around, his sword held across my throat, though the iron didn’t touch my skin. I noted the way his hand shook on my arm as he held me against him.
“Did she just try to kill the king?” someone asked from the crowd of horrified onlookers. Suddenly the room was filled with shouts and accusations. The word ‘treason’ was thrown around a few times, turning my saliva to acid in my mouth.
“What have you done, little assassin?” Nero murmured in my ear. Once again a wave of emotion that wasn’t my own washed over me, but this time I was hot with stark, naked fear.
Tetia stood behind the king, staring at me with a glimmer of satisfaction in her bright eyes, and my stomach turned over. Was this her doing? Had she poisoned those roses in the garden?
The king stood from his throne, towering over everyone in the room as the crowd fell silent. The way he moved commanded power and respect, as if everyone in this kingdom both feared and loved him. He faced me, running his eyes over the way his brother held me against him, tilting his head as if in contemplation. He was remarkably calm for a man who, according to everyone else in this room, was almost assassinated.
He approached me slowly, each of his steps echoing like thunder through the room, the only other sound was the thundering of my heart in my ears. My eyes flickered down the steps to the three men held at spear point.
“Brother, it seems you’ve brought a snake into our midst.” He reached me, reaching out a hand that crackled with magic, glowing blue light dancing across his fingers.
That same blue light glowed in his eyes, extending towards me, freezing the blood in my veins And rendering me motionless. He forced my chin up as I narrowed my eyes, clenching my jaw tight.
His lips thinned into a wry smile as he tilted his head again and ran a thumb over my cheek. He clicked his tongue with the shake of his head, “Or perhaps... a Raven.”
