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The rest of his words were drowned out by Velichkov’s howl of fury as he flung himself forward, Navar hurriedly scurrying through the bedchamber doors that now hung open.
“You can’t kill me,” the councillor hissed acidly as he continued to back away, repeatedly slicing the air with the knife to keep Velichkov at arm’s length.
“Watch me, southerner.”
“If you do, your brother dies.”
“And if we don’t, you let him go?” Starling asked, her voice cold as her and I stalked the two men across the bedchamber floor. “Bullshit.”
“Zidhan will-”
“Zidhan Welzes doesn’t give a damn about you,” Velichkov assured him darkly. He stopped when he had Navar backed up against the wall below the window, his bare heels jutting against the stone and his balding head casting an ugly silhouette against the mid-morning azure sky at his back. Sun shone brightly through the open window, lending the moment an unfairly cheery feel that didn’t at all suit the horror flooding through my soul.
I didn’t stop. I passed Velichkov and kept closing in on Navar until he had the knife at my throat, my fingers swiftly wrapping around his to stop him from sliding it home. The silk of the gown’s sleeve fluttered under my uneven breath.
He swallowed. He knew he was fucked.
“The men had your boy last night,” he whispered to me with relish; one final, bloody parting shot. My eyes followed the shape of his mouth as he spoke those awful words that rattled around my head.
No.
“I found him on the floor of his cell this morning. Bruised and sobbing and broken, bent over on all fours and letting them have their fun with him…one after the other. Why didn’t you save him from that, Ren?”
I didn’t respond. Not with words at least, but I did shove him backwards out of the window, releasing his hand as he toppled over the sill.
Councillor Navar wavered and then fell out of sight, his earth-shattering shriek growing in volume before being abruptly silenced.
I turned to find Velichkov and Starling staring at me, looking horrified.
“He was lying,” I told the silence between us, and saw their expressions ease into tentative hope as if I had all the answers. And maybe in this, I did. “Nat wouldn’tletanyone do shit.”
I led the way back to the doors, glancing at where Dima lay passed out at one end of the antechamber, Yanev’s cooling body at the other.
They’d both keep. Mat wouldn’t.
“Come,” I ordered the others, attempting to sound unconcerned. “I must retrieve my man from the palace cells,again.”
But when we made it through the guard room, the last of the soldiers falling with a heavy thump to Starling’s magic, we only found one northerner being held behind bars.
“Your Highnesses!” exclaimed Parvan with uncharacteristic fervour, leaping to his feet with a clatter of chains. His neck was black with bruises.
“Where’s Nathanael?”
Parvan’s mouth arched into an expression of self-flagellation. “They took him away this morning,” he rasped, curling his hands around the filthy iron bars. “I am sorry.”
“They’re likely in the throne room,” Starling murmured from somewhere behind me. “Prince Ren, you know if Welzes is with him then that whole wing will be swarming with guards. I might be able to take out a couple, but the rest would be on us before we even came close.”
“I know,” I said. I did. Welzes was fuckingkingnow, and kings didn’t leave their security to chance.
“Then how do we get to him?” snarled out Velichkov.
“There’s really only one thing left for me to try,” I said, staring at the chains that bound Parvan’s wrists.
“What?”
“Act like your brother,” I told the heir grimly, “and make a foolish gesture of grandiose self-sacrifice.”
Then I turned to Starling, my heart racing. “I expect you’re rather going to enjoy this next part, señorita Ortega.”
