96. Bastian
Bastian
S hit.
“Cyrus is dead too,” Kat whispered, staring at Lucius’s body.
Shit.
We were fucked.
The fact Dawn had a second heir was a small, small comfort. Sepher had to survive today—he was too arrogant to die. Was he behind this?
I shook away the racing thoughts and lowered the king to the floor. “Did you find Sura?”
Kat slid Lucius’s eyes closed. “No. Not a sign of her or the fox-haired fae. I’m sure Sura didn’t do this.”
“Maybe you’re—”
A groan broke the quiet.
We followed the sound and found Cyrus on the dais, clutching his stomach. Despite the dagger buried in it, he was still very much alive.
“I thought…” Kat stared, a tightness in her face that made my bones ache. “Sorry, I was about to check him when you called, and—”
“It’s all right.” I touched her cheek in reassurance before crouching by Cyrus, who was well enough to scowl at us.
I tore off a piece of cloak from one of his guards and bundled it up before applying pressure around the wound.
I wasn’t removing it without a healer ready to stop the bleeding—I’d seen a woman die after a recruit made that mistake in a practice yard accident. “Not looking too good, Your Highness.”
“I’m sure the blood’s quite ruined my outfit.” The sardonic twist of his lip faded as his eyes widened. “My father. Where is he?” He let out a grunt as he tried to sit up, and Kat caught him as he fell back.
“Don’t move.” She pushed the hair off his face.
Everything in me went tight, and I put more pressure on the wound than strictly necessary. I tried not to smile as he cried out.
She meant nothing by the gesture, but Cyrus didn’t deserve her comfort. Not when he was such a prize prick.
I dragged in a deep breath. “He’s dead.” I couldn’t bring myself to soften it, not with his head in Kat’s lap.
“No.” He grunted again but managed to sit with Kat’s support. “It can’t… He was right behind me when… when…” He touched the dagger’s hilt. His eyelids fluttered as his gaze shifted to the space behind the dais where his father’s body lay.
The great Day King cramped in that little space behind the dais, reaching for Dusk’s door. No matter how I felt about him, something about that was obscene.
Tears gleamed in Cyrus’s eyes. “Father. My… my father.” His hand shook as he covered his mouth.
“Is Krae here?” He scanned the space nearby.
“They stabbed me. They were working with these people.” He gestured at the body of a nearby Ascendant.
“Helped them all get in. I trusted them and…” He shook his head.
I shared a look with Kat.
Was this what the attackers wanted? Lucius dead? Did they pretend to form an alliance, then betray him? Were they working with Sepher? Cyrus was lucky to be alive—if we hadn’t arrived when we did, he wouldn’t have lasted much longer.
I nodded to Kat. “Take over while I get help.”
Blade drawn, muscles coiled, I slipped through Dusk’s door.
I could’ve collapsed with relief when I found ranks of Dusk guards readying themselves to enter.
“Bastian!” Faolán pushed through, followed by Asher.
“I’m fine. And the throne room’s clear.” I grabbed Asher’s arm as soon as he was in reach. “Just who I need. Explanations after.”
I dragged them both into the throne room and Faolán bounded over to Kat. “You’re alive!” It was just as well I had Asher to heal Cyrus, because Faolán plucked her away from staunching the bleeding and swept her into a hug.
I set Asher to healing Cyrus. There was nothing he could do for the king.
The guards filed through, and I sent one to fetch the rest of the Kingsguard on Dawn’s side, while Kat disentangled herself from Faolán.
“Report,” I ordered.
“It’s over on our side. Minimal casualties. The last of them have fled, but we’re doing a sweep of the palace to be sure.” Faolán shrugged. “Whatever it is they wanted, they got it.”
“The king is dead.”
His eyes widened. “Oh.” Slowly, he nodded and stroked his chin—beard back in full force. “Hmm. I see.”
More reports filtered through from both sides of the palace—the fighting was over in Dawn as well. Their casualties were far from minimal, though.
News of the king’s death rippled through the room as more guards arrived. They offered Cyrus condolences, and I caught a snatch of conversation where one referred to him as a hero for trying to shield his father.
“Are you all right?” Kat murmured as I massaged my temples.
“I’ve been worse.” I gave her a tired smile. “But no rest for the wicked. It’s almost time for the eclipse. And I’m going to have one hell of a report for Her Majesty when she wakes.”