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A dagger hilt sticks out from each eye socket. Blood has soaked into the mask, which means they did it while he was alive.
Trapped between the hilts is a blooming Moonflower.
This can’t be real. This can’t be real.
I don’t want to keep staring, but I can’t stop.
I’m not breathing. I can’t breathe. My heart needs to stop beating. I need to stop feeling.
He didn’t want to go. He was right. It was too risky.
He went for me.
The gate guards have taken notice of me, and one of them calls, “Guess he won’t be making it home for supper, will he, girl?”
They all laugh.
My fingers curl into fists. I want to hit the guards with every ounce of my strength and fury. I want to light them on fire. I want to burn the palace to the ground. I want to steal every petal of every Moonflower in Kandala and watch the elites wither and die from the fevers.
I want to put daggers in the eyes of the king and his brother.
Mind your mettle, Tessa.
It’s like his voice is in my head, and I choke on a sob. One of the guards must hear, because he peels away from the gate.
I need to run. Wes would want me to run.
That thought spurs me into action. I dig my feet into the trail again and run as fast and as far as I can, leaving a path of tears behind me.
