Page 14 of Court of Nightmares


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“It is what I deserve. Free me,” I reply pleadingly. “Free me from this rot and evil that fills me, so I can never hurt or kill another.”

“You are guilty of your crimes?” another asks.

“Yes, I have killed many,” I admit without shame, humbling myself before them.

I feel their power, their destiny, and their responsibility, and I accept it.

“We still must see,” one says softly.

A gentle cut is made on my neck, unlike the others whose throats were practically torn out. I lean forward and let what is left of my rotting blood hit the bowl.

There’s a ripple of gasps as I fade into my memories with them. I feel them searching through my life, and nothing is left untouched as every part of me is exposed, from my mother dying to my traumatic turning, to my rejection and my fall from grace.

My life is sorted through like a file.

They dig deeper than I dare, yet I do not run away, and when they release me, I sit back, finding bloody tears sliding down my cheeks.

“Oh, my queen,” one murmurs. “The world has failed you.”

“No, I failed it,” I reply, bowing my head. “I am no queen.”

“But you could have been,” a king counters. “I see the path you could have taken and the greatness you are capable of. Life is cruel, future queen.”

“But you must be judged, and you must pay. We cannot alter that, not even if they were deserving.”

“I’m sorry?” I frown, confused. “Who was deserving?”

“The humans you killed, you . . . you do not know, do you?”

“I don’t think she does.” The voices mix together until a robed figure sits forward.

“Little queen, the humans you chose seemingly at random were not so random. Deep down, beyond the blood poisoning and madness, you felt their evil. It’s your mother’s gift, no doubt, and you remember it now.”

I nod as my mind clears for the first time in months, almost making me sob.

“You saw what they had done, or what they were planning to do—great acts of evil. They were not innocent. You were judging and sentencing them in your own way.”

“But you exposed us to humans and put our whole race at risk, so you must be judged and pay.” It’s said wistfully. “I am sorry, truly.”

“Do not be, I gladly welcome death like a lover. I ask only one thing.”

“Ask.”

“May I die on my feet?” I do not move, not wanting to risk their wrath. A simple incline of a head is my only answer, and I stand and bow my head. “Thank you. Burn my body to ashes so the rot may never spread.”

“We have killed many, and we have never asked for names, but I ask for yours,” the one in the middle demands.

“Althea.” I go to offer my titles, but then I realise they do not count anymore. “The last of my line, rejected mate to a king I never knew,” I admit sadly. “There will be no one to mourn me, so do not worry.”

“That is where you are wrong,” one murmurs before Nathair steps forward.

When he stops before me, he reaches into my chest, almost like the slide of a lover’s caress, and grips my beating heart. I feel it and gasp, my wide eyes focused on the bottomless black holes where his eyes should be, and for a moment, I swear I see a flare of red there before it fades and my heart is extracted from my chest.

“May you find peace in death that you were never given in life,” he whispers as he steps back.

I know he’s passing his judgement as I fall to my knees and then to my side, crumpling as the life leaves my body, but I cannot hear it.

I am finally free, and I welcome death with a relieved smile.

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