Chapter 41
Forty-One
ALLETTE
The paddle slips from my fingers, clattering to the floor, splattering the dark liquid pooling around my feet.
So much blood.
My hands vibrate, and my heartbeat roars in my ears. As the adrenaline coursing through my veins slowly subsides, reality strikes with a vengeance.
I just murdered a man.
Not just a man, a royal guard.
What the hell do I do now?
We really are cursed…
Senan’s words become a chant in my mind as I kneel beside the man’s limp body to search his pocket for the key so I can escape this place. When I go to stand, I slip. My hands fly out to catch me, landing in warm, wet blood.
I have to get it off. I have to. I can feel it seeping into my beautiful silk skirt.
Panicking will only make this worse. I need to breathe, but every time I do, all I smell is the coppery tang of blood. I push to my feet and back away from the body. Everything will be all right. I just need to think.
I’ve been in this room before. This is where all the castle’s laundry is washed, dried, and pressed—including our uniforms.
They keep the uniforms right over there. My blood-soaked skirts stick to my legs as I hurry for the cupboard, only to find the damn thing locked. It’s a long shot, but I try the key the guard used to get in here.
Of course it doesn’t work. That would be too easy.
If I remain in here with the man’s body, someone is going to find me, and I’ll end up rotting away in the pit for the rest of my days.
Let me see…
There are plenty of towels. If I remove my gown and wrap myself in one, I can pretend to be coming out of the bathing room. That’ll work, right?
I grab a towel off one of the lines and hurry to the sink only to realize the blood has soaked all the way through to my undergarments. I need to strip out of everything, but there is nowhere for me to hide this gown where it won’t be discovered. If I leave the thing behind, everyone will know it’s mine. Maybe my bed has a hidden panel like Braith’s, and I can hide it there until I can burn it.
I twist the knob on the faucet, and hot water sprays from the tap, smelling like rotten eggs. At least it’s not blood. I scrub my hands clean and wrap the towel around me, adjusting my long hair so that the scars on my back are covered.
My bare feet make no noise as I cross the cold stone floor, clutching my bundled dress and slippers against my chest. Thank the stars the hallway is empty.
Even though I feel like sprinting away, I don’t run. I walk, slow and calm, the picture of nonchalance, down the hall, around the corner, and almost to my room when Braith steps out of the bathing room.
“Stars, Wynn. What happened to your face? It’s covered in blood.”
When my fingers graze my cheekbone, it’s like the man hit me all over again. Stars, that is sore. The cheek I can excuse, but blood?
Braith grabs my elbow, urging me into the steamy bathing chamber. I swipe a hand across the foggy mirror above one of the sinks. Sure enough, a bruise darkens my cheek. But that isn’t what makes me gasp.
At some point after hitting the guard, I must’ve wiped my face, painting my forehead deep red.
Stars… I killed someone .
Not only did I kill him, I bludgeoned him to death. These hands trembling in front of me are the hands of a killer.
I need to get to Senan, explain what happened. He’ll help me. But first, I need to give Braith some sort of excuse. I open my mouth, but the words refuse to come.
Say something, dammit .
You must save yourself.
“A guard… He tried to… He locked me in and said he was going to?—”
Understanding lights her eyes, and she takes me by the arms. “Shhh…it’s over now. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Braith takes my bundle and nudges me toward the closest shower. My whole body begins to shake, my hands trembling so badly that Braith has to help me unhook the towel. I lurch forward beneath the stream of steaming hot water and scrub at my face and hair and hands. The water at my feet turns deep red. Stars…
I must get to Senan. I must.
Braith lets out a low curse. “Wynn… Your back.”
Shit . My scars. I completely forgot about them. Dammit . How did such a perfect day end so terribly? “P-please don’t tell anyone.”
Braith’s expression hardens, but she says nothing as she draws the dividing curtain. No matter how hard I scrub, I can still feel the guard’s blood like a layer of oil painting my skin.
Everything will be fine. Braith is my friend and will keep my secret. I just have to get to my prince before?—
A screaming bell rings from the hallway.
Shit .
Braith yanks the curtain aside and throws me a clean towel. “Get this around you. Quickly!”
I hate myself for dragging her into this. She is innocent. I’m not. “I should turn myself in.” Perhaps if I explain what happened, they won’t punish me too harshly.
Braith shakes her head, her silver hair sticking to her flushed cheeks. “You can’t tell a soul. If they find out, you’ll be executed.”
Executed? At least in the pit, Senan would have a chance to save me. But if I’m executed before the sun even comes up, I could be dead before he wakes.
“He tried to force himself on me. I was only defending myself.” Surely, I have a right to do that.
“Doesn’t matter. Attacking one of the king’s guards is considered an attack on the king himself.”
What have I done? How am I going to get away with this? “If they take me, you must get word to Senan as quickly as you can.” He is my only hope.
The door bursts open, and two Scathian guards stalk into the room, the short swords in their fists gleaming. Braith and I both shriek, and I hide my nakedness using the stolen towel.
“You two,” the taller guard roars, not bothering to avert his gaze. “Get dressed and get into the hallway. Now !”
We truly are cursed .
This is it. The end of the line. The price I must pay for taking what was never meant for me.
Braith tugs the towel higher over my back and pushes me toward the door.
Tuath in various states of dress fill the hallway, backs pressed to the walls, hands fisted at their sides as the House Master paces between them, his steely eyes scanning their tired, confused faces.
He comes to a halt where I stand, the ends of his boots bumping my bare toes. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“I was having a shower when the alarm sounded. The guards said to come straight away.”
“At three o’clock in the morning? Seems an odd time to shower.” He scans from my dripping black hair to my bare feet. “What happened to your face?”
Oh, right. My face.
Your guard struck me, so I killed him .
“She fell, sir,” Braith lies, calm as day. “We had a few drinks tonight, and she tripped on a stair and fell.”
The House Master’s eyes narrow on both of us.
“It’s true,” Jeston says from down the hallway, his chin lifted and eyes straight ahead. “She fell.”
Beside him, Mari nods in agreement. “I saw her as well.”
What have I done to deserve such loyalty? That they would lie for someone they barely know. If I get away with this, I will owe these people my life.
Although he doesn’t appear convinced, the House Master clicks his fingers and gestures toward the bathing room. NO! Don’t go in there! They’re going to find my dress and then they’ll know it was me and I’ll be dead before dawn. I hold my breath until my lungs burn, my eyes welling with tears.
When the two guards return empty-handed, I don’t understand. What the hell has Braith done with my dress?
The House Master curses and shouts that there will be a mandatory search of all the rooms. The guards start throwing open doors. The Tuath murmur and exchange angry glances, but no one tries to stop the men from entering.
A few moments later, screaming erupts down the hall.
A guard grips Del by the arm while she curses and pummels him with her free hand. “It’s not mine!” she shrieks, her face as red as the man’s wings. “I swear! It’s not mine.”
Two vials of stardust glow in the man’s clenched fist.
“At least now we know where he’s gettin’ it from,” one of the guards at my back mutters to another before throwing open Braith’s door.
My friend chews on her lower lip, scrubbing her hands down her shift.
The books. Dammit . They’re going to find her stash of stolen books.
Sure enough, a guard emerges with three books in hand, holding them up for everyone to see. “Whose room is this?” he bellows.
The man next to Braith shies away from her, pressing himself into the wall. Sniffling, Braith steps forward. Jeston’s jaw pulses as he glares at her back.
Another guard catches her arm and hauls her down the hallway as well.
What if they throw her into the pit? She doesn’t deserve such a fate. She didn’t do anything wrong. Stars, this is all my bloody fault. I have to do something.
“The books are mine!” I shout, running after them, still clutching my towel.
The guards escorting Braith stop and turn, pinning me with their dark scowls.
“They’re not,” Braith insists with a shake of her head. “I took them. Punish me.”
Doesn’t she realize that I’m trying to save her? “She’s only trying to protect me. I borrowed them from the library and asked her to keep them in her room until I could return them.”
The House Master looks fit to explode until Jeston steps forward to whisper in his ear. The older man’s shoulders stiffen. With a curse, he calls back the guards. “Continue searching for the assailant. I will handle this.”
Jeston catches our arms, towing us into the House Master’s office. The mahogany desk gleams beneath the tall fae lights on the back wall. “Don’t say a bloody word,” he hisses under his breath before letting go.
The House Master stalks in after us, the door slamming in his wake. “Do either of you understand the position you’ve put me in? First, we have a guard murdered, then they find stardust, and now this?” He kicks the chair; the wood slams against the wall and splinters.
Jeston steps forward, his hands clasped at his back. “Sir, if I may speak on behalf of these incredibly na?ve women.” He shoots us a deadly look. “They did no more than borrow a few books from a library.”
“The king’s library,” the House Master grits out.
“A library all the same. They had every intention of returning the books, didn’t you?” Jeston says, directing his question toward us.
Braith and I both nod.
“As if that will matter to the king.” The House Master curses again, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. “You will each receive a strike for the headache you’ve caused.”
That isn’t so bad, all things considered.
“And five lashes,” he adds.
Did he say lashes? They’re going to beat us over bloody books? Braith’s hands fly to her face, and she starts to sob.
The older man levels a thick finger at us. “But if either of you breathe a word of this, you’ll both be gone. Do you hear me?”
The House Master lifts a black cane from behind the desk. Never in my life have I been beaten for breaking a rule, and this man is actually going to hit us.
Only, he doesn’t.
He hands the cane to Jeston, ordering the younger man to take care of it. Then he stalks past, throws the door aside, and leaves us in silence.
Heaving a sigh, Jeston twists toward Braith, shaking his bowed head as he taps the cane against his boot. “For books, Braith? Really?”
She scrubs her tear-stained cheeks, her throat bobbing as she stares down at her white slippers. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
Muttering, he leans the cane against the wall to unfasten the buttons at his wrists and roll up his sleeves.
After what she has done for me, I can’t let Braith take the fall for this. “I’ll take her lashes.” Five or ten? What is the difference?
Jeston’s head tilts, and he gestures toward me with the cane. “Why are you so insistent on saving her?”
“Because she is my friend. And when your friends are in trouble, you do everything in your power to save them.” Unlike him, siding with the bloody House Master. If he was a friend at all, he wouldn’t do this.
“I’ll have you know, I saved you both from a fate far worse than this.” The muscles in his forearms flex as he adjusts his hold on the cane, reminding me of the way I held that paddle. “And Braith will take her own lashes. If my uncle decides to check and finds her unscathed, we’ll all be out on our asses.”
Glistening tears dribble down Braith’s cheeks. “He’s right, Wynn. I shouldn’t have taken those books.” She drags her fingers beneath her eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath. “Is it all right if I get it over with first?”
At this stage, I’ll give her anything she wants. “Of course.”
She turns away to unbutton the top of her shift. Keeping a hand across her chest, she bares her back and rests her forehead against the stone wall.
Stepping forward, Jeston stares down at the pale gray of her skin. For a moment, I think he’ll change his mind. But then the cane whips through the air, cracking off Braith’s back, painting an angry red stripe across her unblemished skin.
Tears blur my vision as I watch him hit her again and again.
After the fourth strike, the cane clatters to the ground. Jeston reaches for Braith’s arm but hesitates before letting his hand and head fall.
“That was only four,” she whispers in a watery voice against the stones.
The reverent way he brushes her hair back from her face is like something out of a storybook. “I’ll tell him I lost count.”
Perhaps Braith’s affection isn’t entirely unrequited. Although, in light of what has happened tonight, I’m not sure if this has brought them closer or driven a wedge between them. Only time will tell.
When Jeston says my name, the warmth in his tone has evaporated. “It’s your turn.”
I take Braith’s place facing the wall and let my towel slip to my waist, exposing my back.
“Fucking hell,” Jeston breathes. “What happened to you?”
As if I’d tell him a thing. “Get on with it.”
The first crack brings tears to my eyes. The second leaves my legs wobbling. The third makes them give out. The fourth tears across the others. Blackness claws at the edge of my vision, haunted with memories from the darkest day of my life. The pain. Stars, there is so much pain.
I try to fight against it, but it’s impossible to win when there is no breath in your lungs and anguish swallows you whole. I know I’m not in the human realm. I know it, and yet amidst the blackness, I can see those men stealing a part of me that can never be replaced.
“My wings,” I sob, tears dripping hot and wet like the blood down my back. “I can’t feel my wings.”
Voices call my name, but I’m all alone, writhing in agony.
They’re gone. They’re really gone.
“I can’t feel my wings!” My voice cracks. Breaks. Shatters.
Darkness comes for me…
And there is nothing I can do to stop it.