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“All of this.” He jerked his head vaguely. “I can’t protect you from it. And I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “It’s not your fault. Please, don’t blame yourself.”
He gave me a sad smile. “My fierce little Fae.” He kissed me once more before easing himself out of my grasp and hoisting himself out the window onto the tower wall. “Try and sleep,” he whispered, and then he dropped out of sight.
Chapter24
Elara
Drusilla shook her head as she looked me up and down. “Red, I just don’t know.”
I allowed myself a small smile as I regarded my reflection in the mirror. Red, like the blood of my enemies. I had to give myself some small measure of control in this ridiculous situation. My stomach dropped a little as I thought of seeing my father - my father, who had warned Rook to stay away from me. I wasn’t going to tell him about the Bond, that much was certain.
If my father found out I was bonded to Rook, much less that I’d taken him to my bed and given him my body, there was no doubt in my mind Rook would be put to death for violating the Accord. Theron would make an example of him, favored assassin or no. The sharp tug at my heart as I thought of anyone hurting Rook was so acute it took my breath away. I’d meant what I said - I would burn Veles to the ground if I had to. I wouldn’t leave him here. I couldn’t.
Drusilla gave me a single earring, a series of long dangling chains adorned with black pearls. They stood out against the curtain of my pale hair, and I was pleased with my appearance. Regal. Strong. I wouldn’t be cowed by Theron.
Or my father.
I tried to imagine the confrontation between Rook and my father, when the Peyrusian soldiers had abandoned Isambard, and had retreated to leave the city to be destroyed. I couldn’t blame Rook for what he had threatened. He had told me he’d lost everything. I still didn’t know exactly what that meant, and I was afraid to ask. But whatever had occurred, I couldn’t see fault in his rage, nor me being the object of it.
The door to my chamber opened, and Regan walked in. He looked me up and down, and gave me a wide smile. “Your highness, you look stunning.”
“Thank you, Regan.”
He gave me a sympathetic smile. “I do find it admirable that you won’t hide your deformity.”
I bristled at this. “My what?” I snapped.
His eyes widened instantly, and he began to sputter as he bowed his head atop that ridiculously thin neck. “Oh, Your Highness, forgive me, I meant no offense.”
I ran a hand over the side of my head, where Drusilla had pinned my hair back to fall over my right shoulder. I wasn’t going to hide my scars. I saw no need to. I thought of Rook kissing them, telling me how perfect I was. He had never shied away from my scars, touching them and kissing them. He was not put off by them, and I refused to see them as anything but a part of me.
“Perhaps we can go now,” I said, walking towards Regan, who was still bent double, his face bright red. “I would like to see my father.”
Regan could barely speak, spluttering and apologizing as he led the way down the passageway. I didn’t listen to him, to his simpering. I had no desire to.
The banquet hall was abuzz with conversation as we approached. I held my head high as Regan announced my arrival, and the room fell silent. It was unnerving, but I didn’t let it show. My father sat at the head table beside Theron, and I approached, bowing my head. “Sire,” I said to Theron, whose eyes roved up and down my body.
“Your Highness,” he said, his white teeth bared as he grinned at me, “you look truly ravishing tonight. What a color on you.” He turned to my father. “Your daughter is such a beauty. You must be endlessly proud of her.”
My father’s eyes were fixed on me, and they widened a little as they moved to the left side of my head. “Yes, she is, Sire. A true beauty, just like her mother.”
I bowed my head again. “I thank you for the compliments.”
My father turned to Theron. “I wonder, Your Majesty, may I have a moment alone with my daughter? It has been an age since I last saw her, and I would so like to speak with her.”
Theron looked from my father to me and back again, his lips twitching in a display of theatrical pensiveness. Finally, he clapped my father on the shoulder and laughed. “But of course, Your Grace!” He gestured to a guard. “Please, follow my man here, he will take you to a room where you may visit with your daughter.” His eyes moved back to me. “She is so very precious.”
“Indeed,” my father replied uncertainly, rising to his feet. He moved to my side and took my hand, gazing at me with his violet eyes. “So very precious.”
I clutched on to his hand as we followed the guard. I scanned the room as we walked, the many eyes of the courtiers following our every move. It was then I spotted Rook, leaning against a wall at the far end of the room, his blue eyes fixed on me. He was dressed in formal attire, a black jacket with a high neck and golden embroidery on the sleeves, along with tight black trousers. His curly dark hair spilled over his forehead, and he looked so regal and beautiful. His brow was furrowed as he watched me walk with my father. I could sense his worry, and my palms began to sweat.
“Here,” the guard said, opening a narrow oak door to reveal a small side room, with tall windows. A fire crackled in a hearth in the corner of the room, and it was almost oppressively warm. My father and I stepped in, and both watched as the door fell closed behind us.
My father descended on me, throwing his arms around me. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice gruff, “oh Gods, sweetheart.” He held my face in his hands, and shook his head. “What did they do to you?”
“It wasn’t them,” I said, putting my hand over his, where my ear had once been. “It happened in Grixos.”
