52. FIFTY-TWO
FIFTY-TWO
Darius
Staefan pins me with a look as I command him to run through the security measures again. I won’t let Zala slip through any cracks, not with Mina finally feeling better. I want her to enjoy tonight and the surprise planned.
We review the number of uniformed guards; their stations and rotation timings vary to prevent overlap. The main hall, beach, and paths in between will have an even interval of soldiers so that no guard exchange happens without witnesses.
We ran everyone through drills of their assignments each day this week, but they’ll get the finalized timetable just before the event starts. My soldiers are flexible enough to handle the switch, and if anyone plans to break through based on our practice runs, they’ll be caught in our web easily.
I glance at the letter half crumpled on my desk, surprised Mina didn’t rip it to shreds last night. Twelve words never looked so menacing.
I look forward to seeing you soon, Mina. Stay safe.
~King Zala
Over my dead body.
The second layer of our security lies with our spies: Alexi’s usual assignment, rooftop lookouts, and several undercover soldiers, including Mina’s unit. She designed special dresses for them with pockets and easily accessible blades—which is genius and wholly unnerving.
“Add another guard to the kitchen and have one of Mina’s unit join the staff there. Poison is the easiest way to cause damage. Mina and I may not be the only targets.”
My entire ensemble paints me in black, as hollow and infinite as a starless sky. I pull on my suit jacket, adjusting it around the dagger hidden underneath. The evening may be a celebration, but I’m ready for battle.
“He wants to marry Mina, not kill her,” Staefan points out.
“That was before she declined his offer. We were fooled by him once; I won’t let my mistakes cost Mina any more. Run through it again, with the added details.”
I dissect every inch of the plan until even I can’t find a way in. It’s a delicate web that appears lax but will leave no holes for that snake to climb through. I’ve seen to every detail, yet a sense of foreboding claws its way into my chest. My very breath is heavy with it, constricting my lungs.
I haven’t felt this much fear since I was a boy pushing open a cracked door to find a bloody body—an image seared into my soul.
Mother’s blond curls draped over the side of the bed, copper stinging my nose as I draw back the sheet to find a nasty red gash where her throat used to be. The moon was full that night as well.
Mother’s pale skin becomes tawny, and suddenly it’s Mina in the bed unmoving. Her usual effervescence snuffed out, leaving her hollow.
“Hey, breathe.” Staefan’s pinched brows obscure the nightmarish image. “It’s not going to happen,” he assures me, reading my distress like a familiar old book.
He grips my forearms, and I return the gesture. We haven’t had to do this in years, but the threat to Mina is enough to drive me back to that place, even if it’s just for a moment.
His steady hold anchors me as I breathe past the pain and panic filling my lungs. He grips the back of my neck and brings our foreheads together. I close my eyes and focus on picturing Mina safe.
I replace the image of Mother’s corpse with the fierce warrior I’ve come to admire. Mina’s strikes are lightning-quick; her mind is sharper than any blade. She won’t go down easily, not that we’ll let anyone get close enough to try.
I picture her laughter as she hovers over our chessboard. The devious tilt of her lips when she kisses me long into the night. Each image calms my mind.
Eventually, Staefan squeezes my arm, and I let out one final long breath.
I am strong. Mina is stronger.
I won’t lose her.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice gruffer than normal.
Staefan releases my arm. “Anytime. Why don’t you go check on her in person? Ease any remaining doubts.”
Hair stylists are set up in a parlor on the first floor. Mina and her ladies are in the process of getting ready together—a ritual that no man in his right mind would willingly step into. When it comes to Mina, I’m hardly in my right mind though.
I need to see her. My anxiety about the evening carries me there on stiff legs.
I nod to the guards stationed outside the door, their spines snapping straight as they salute. They were by no means lazing about before, but my presence tends to have that effect. One pounds on the door.
The murmurs from behind the solid wood die off as Jaime sticks her head out. “Your Majesty?”
“May I have a moment with my queen?”
After a quick nod, the door shuts. If there weren’t possibly half a dozen scantily dressed women present, I would’ve barged in.
Not that I have eyes for anyone other than Mina, but she’d be pissed that I stepped over some unspoken boundary.
She might even gouge my eyes out. An assessment that isn’t far off considering the glare that greets me when the door opens again.
She made me promise not to see her before the gala starts, but the moment she steps into view I can breathe again.
“Husband?” Mina’s sweet voice earns giggles from the parlor, but I hear it for the warning it is.
She peeks her head out, blocking the room with her robed body.
Her painted lips lose some of their sass as I hold up a long thin box.
I planned on giving this to her later, but it’s the perfect excuse to see her now.
Mina’s alive, safe. She cocks a hip against the doorframe, her silk robe clinging to her like a second skin.
Anxiety filters out of my body, replaced by another all-consuming emotion. I have half a mind to clear the room and burn that robe, gala be damned.
Mina’s eyes sparkle as if she knows my every dirty thought.
I clear my throat before speaking. “A gift. Open it alone.”
“Thank you.”
She rests her hand on mine. The warmth of that small contact grounds me, chasing away the last remnants of weakness and worry. She takes the box, confidence and affection radiating from her smile. Tonight will be fine.
I’ll make sure of it.