95. Kat
Kat
I entered with bow drawn, poison ready to spread across the room, and found a scene of carnage. Near the royal doors behind the dais came a flicker of movement, but when I lifted my head, I found only more of the same.
Blood and bodies.
Kingsguard with their beautiful armour. The prince’s guards with their cerulean blue cloaks. Fake Ascendants in grey leather. Servants in nothing but cloth—no armour, no weapons. The nearest lay in crimson pools, their throats slit.
Eighty, maybe a hundred people in total, all still and silent.
My eyes burned at the sheer scale of the massacre. Because that’s what this was—the servants. They’d stood no chance. “What happened here?”
Bastian’s brow set low, shadowing his eyes. “We need to check them. If anyone’s alive, they can tell us.”
I glanced back. “Should we call the others in?”
Jaw twitching as he surveyed the room, he shook his head. “Not until we know we don’t need to use your magic. False Ascendants could be hiding among the dead.”
I swallowed and nodded, then started picking my way through the bodies. The chairs from the ceremony had been cleared ready for more folk to file in for their chance to see the king and queen together for the eclipse. That couldn’t be far off now.
As for the people—their glassy stares told me enough.
It looked like the fighting had been thickest by the main door that led to Dusk—the one most people entered through, whereas the queen and her officials used the one behind the dais.
Bodies piled upon bodies, almost blocking the door.
Blood completely hid the marble floor, making it slick and treacherous.
“Anything?” I called to Bastian as he worked on the other side of the room.
“No.”
The word echoed off the high ceiling, making the hairs rise on the back of my neck.
Hours ago, I’d walked through here worried about nothing more than the fire in Bastian’s eyes as he saw me in a pretty dress.
And now…
I locked eyes with a man I recognised. He’d held the door open for me as I’d arrived and given me an encouraging smile before whispering, “You look beautiful, Lady of Dusk. A star in your court.”
Now, gold green hair sat in his eyes and the fact he didn’t blink it away twisted in my gut.
“Are you all right?”
I bent and closed the kind man’s eyes. “Yes.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I do.” Whoever was behind this, these people had been murdered as part of the game of courts, and they deserved to be witnessed.
Tears blurred my vision by the time we reached the wide dais. Bright blond hair glimmered on the next body. A dagger’s hilt gleamed bronze, still buried in his stomach.
Eyes shut, face slack, he almost looked peaceful, and it took me a moment to recognise Prince Cyrus.
“Shit,” I whispered, bending over.
“Kat,” Bastian called from behind the dais. “The king. He’s alive.”
Stomach lurching, I ran over.
Bastian had him on his back, cradling his head. Alive. Just.
Blood oozed from his throat like someone had done a bad job of cutting it. His lashes fluttered, but his eyes were glassy—almost as glazed as those of the bodies I’d checked.
A wheezing, bubbling sound came from his lips as they moved.
“What is it?” I squeezed his hand, hoping that might bring him back to himself enough to make him speak louder.
The wheezes rose, and I bent my ear to his lips.
“Fox.”
At least, that was what it sounded like. Did that mean…? The fox-haired fae had done this.
Then, with a horrible groan, the king fell still.
His empty eyes stared at the door leading to Dusk.