Chapter Thirty-Three
I turn to Emmett, nearly fainting in his arms. When I look back up, Bram is nowhere to be seen.
My mother is sitting in the front row, completely still, staring at her hand, where her pinkie finger, the one that has been absent my whole life, is suddenly back.
I turn to my left, to where my attendants stand, and see Olive staring down at her fingernails. I prod at my teeth with my tongue and find that my molar has returned, which explains the blood in my mouth.
A footman reaches for me, but his hands don’t close the distance. They turn to dust, and the footman collapses in a heap, leaving nothing but a crumpled livery on the ground.
Hysterical screams go up as a dozen footmen float away on the wind.
Suddenly, from all sides of the garden, the Queen’s Guard pours in, weapons at the ready. I expect them to surround Queen Mor, protecting her, but without warning, they attack.
Queen Mor struggles against them, her magic flares, dropping five to the ground all at once. Emmett’s father throws his body over hers. I can’t tell if he’s trying to take her down or protect her. He lets out a strangled cry and pulls back, his white shirt suddenly crimson with wet blood. It’s spreading quickly, and he’s growing pale. He looks down to see a knife with a golden hilt, buried in his stomach.
Queen Mor snaps her fingers and two guards turn to dust, but she doesn’t see the ones behind her. In their hands are thick chains, and the moment the metal touches her skin, it’s as if she deflates, all the magic suddenly snuffed out. She hisses, like the chains are burning her skin, and is quickly taken to the ground. The guards haul her writhing body through the garden and down the path, out of sight.
The crowd is in such chaos, I don’t think even half of the guests saw their queen being hauled away.
Emmett rushes to Edgar. “Father!”
he cries into Prince Consort Edgar’s shoulder. “Father?”
Emmett pulls back, his hands dripping with blood.
Edgar wheezes in a wet breath.
“Help!”
Emmett screams through the chaos. “Somebody help me!”
Emmett tries to stanch the bleeding with his hands, but it’s no use. “No—please.”
He weeps. “I just got you back.”
Edgar reaches up and brushes his son’s face. “You’ve done so well.”
He takes a final rattling breath, and then he is gone.
There is screaming all around, complete and utter mayhem. “Emmett—”
I pull him to his feet. “Please, we have to leave, it isn’t safe here.”
I look to the altar where Marion and Faith are standing, silent and terror-struck. Olive and Emmy have disappeared into the crowd. “Where is Lydia?”
I call. But no one answers. I scan the crowd and spot my parents. “Have you seen Lydia?” I ask.
“We thought she was with you,”
my father answers.
“Go home,”
I urge them. “Leave now. Bar the doors and don’t open them for anyone but me, Emmett, or Lydia.”
My mother kisses both my cheeks. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’ll follow just as soon as I find Lydia.” A lie.
Emmett is next to me, covered in blood and silent with shock. I tug at his hand.
There will be time to mourn Edgar, to figure out how to fight this, but for the moment we’re right back to the night we met. “My sister is missing.”
I pick up the skirts of my blood-soaked wedding dress and flee.
I sprint off into the relative seclusion of the trees that surround the orangery, but from beyond the garden I hear the awful metallic banging of steel on steel. Citizens have already arrived at the gates, and there will be more by the minute.
Lydia.
I search my muddled thoughts. The last time I saw her, we were walking down the aisle. Where is Bram? Is he safe? We got what we wanted, but why is this all going so wrong?
The silence of the orangery is unsettling after the screaming from outside. There’s nothing but the quiet rustling of leaves, but then, suddenly, I hear a low, familiar voice.
We round the corner and find Bram, the golden circlet on his head, surrounded by the Queen’s Guard. He doesn’t see us at first, he’s too busy barking orders.
“The Tower, make sure there are at least six guards at all times. I can get more iron, if need be, but you should have plenty. Secure the west gate, and make sure—”
He pauses as he spots us.
“Oh, Emmett, Ivy, what a lovely surprise.”
He waves off the Queen’s Guard—King’s Guard now, I suppose. “Leave us.”
“What is happening?” I ask.
“You got what you wanted.”
Emmett hesitates in confusion.
Bram just grins. “You think I didn’t know about your little plans and schemes? This is what I like about humans. You think you’re so clever, it really is a joy to watch.”
“You knew?”
Emmett asks.
“Oh, I’ve known for ages. Your father always makes such a racket in that library of his. It was cute, watching you two.”
“Why not tell me?”
Bram considers for a moment. “Because I had so many other things to do. It’s not easy being both a king and a prince. The multitasking! The lies to keep straight! I didn’t see the need to add one more thing to my plate. Not when you were already doing the work for me.”
“King?” I ask.
“Keep up.”
Bram claps his hands together. “The door to the Otherworld—I told you all about it, how my mother enchanted it only to open for me? I never gave up my crown there. I was here to reopen the doors between our worlds for us all.”
I’m shaking, horrified and confused. “I thought your father was king.”
“That old bore? I killed him like”—he counts on his fingers—“Three hundred years ago?”
“I thought you couldn’t lie,”
Emmett says.
Bram just laughs again, that same wondrous laugh I’ve heard a hundred times, so different now. “That was my mother’s idea, probably the best one she’s ever had. It was a rumor she spread about our kind ages ago. It’s very convenient to have humans think you’re always telling the truth.”
The room tilts, my knees go weak. Emmett’s as pale as a ghost.
I think of the pictures of Bram scattered across my bedroom floor. “Where is my sister?” I ask.
Bram smiles. “Safe. I’m quite fond of her, you know.”
I launch myself at him, ready to claw his eyes out of his head, but Emmett holds me back as I kick and scream. “Tell me where she is, you bastard! If you’ve hurt her, I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”
Bram’s laughter booms off of the walls. “She’s fine! I swear it.”
He takes a step back, and his face falls as he looks between Emmett and me, standing together. “There is the matter of the two of you to solve, however.”
“I told you I—”
“Don’t lie to me!”
Bram bellows at Emmett. “I already told you not to lie to me about her.”
“It’s nothing. I love you,”
I lie. “I love you, please let’s just go inside, all right?”
I take a step toward him, but Emmett grabs my sleeve and I hesitate.
“I heard the two of you that night,”
Bram says.
The blood drains from my face.
Emmett steps in front of me. “It was my fault. Don’t blame Ivy.”
Bram laughs again. “I thought about killing one of you, but we weren’t married then, so I’ve decided to let it go.”
“It was a one-time mistake. I’ll be devoted to you, please don’t hurt him,” I beg.
“Of course not.”
Bram turns back to his King’s Guard, and relief pulses through me. Emmett and I turn to run, but Bram snaps his fingers.
“Not so fast. It won’t do to have the queen of England’s virtue compromised like this. I can’t very well pretend to be unaware of an affair happening under the roof of my own palace. How embarrassing for me. How could we expect anyone to take me seriously? I need to get rid of one of you.”
“No!”
I shout, but Bram snaps again, and suddenly my voice is gone.
“Let me finish,”
Bram says coolly. “Ivy is tempting, wives are a high-maintenance business, but they do have their purposes. But you, Emmett, have already done so much of the work for me. With your reputation, no one will question that you’ve disappeared off to some country house to drink yourself into a stupor.”
He nods to his guards. “Seize him.”
My knees hit the ground as I wail noiselessly. Emmett struggles against the four guards who surround him, locking heavy shackles around his arms and legs.
They drag him nearly out the door when Bram snaps again, and they pause. “I am sorry, Emmett. Call it only child syndrome. I don’t like to share.”
Emmett digs his heels into the floor, thrashing against the guards. He doesn’t look at Bram, but at me. “Be safe. Do whatever he says. I’m sorry. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
The door slams behind them, leaving Bram and me alone.
He glances at his pocket watch. “I’ve got a coup to get to, but we’ll catch up later, yes?”
He waves a hand, and my speech returns to me. I gasp, choking on tears and words unsaid. He extends a hand and pulls me to my feet. This close, his gray eyes glint strangely, his pupils blown out like he’s drunk.
“I am sorry about all that,”
Bram says vaguely, then plants a kiss on my cheek.
He exits through the tunnels, but I race out the main door, hoping to see where the guards have dragged Emmett, but he’s nowhere in sight.
I see Marion, Emmy, Faith, and Olive huddled under an oak tree, looking terrified.
“Ivy!”
they call, and I race toward them. Together we go to Caledonia Cottage. We push furniture in front of the doors and latch the windows.
I explain everything to them, the May Queen plot, Emmett and me, Bram’s confession, and Emmett’s imprisonment.
It makes my head spin to think of Bram here at Kensington Palace, pretending to be a normal nineteen-year-old, then crossing through the portal to rule over a cruel court as an immortal king.
“What do we do now?”
Olive asks from where she’s huddled, wrapped in a blanket by the fire.
“You stay here, stay safe. But I’m going to find Emmett.”