Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Prisoners are stripped of their wings and all their rights as soon as they’re jailed for treason.
What doesn’t break you… Petre will. - King Richard
I was awake most of the night, consumed by thoughts of Arienna.
When I finally fell asleep, she haunted my dreams too.
The taste of her on my lips, the sound of her moans, the feel of her hands in my hair as she rode me on the counter, and the look in her eyes when I left her on the edge.
A man could get lost in such dreams, never wanting to revisit the land of the living.
But I long learned, the path I am to walk is not that of a mere man.
Yanked out of those dreams by the claws of nightmares, I watched as the Court twisted my queen into a madness that rivalled Seqora’s. They broke her like they did Aurelia.
Until she was down on her knees, begging me to give her mercy. “You have to kill me, my king. I can’t go on like this. I hate what I’ve become.”
“I can’t go on without you,” I cry as I cup her face.
“Of course you can. You’re the Demon of Raza, silly.
You cannot mourn when you don’t have a heart.
” I looked down to see a gaping, black wound in my chest. Arienna started crawling out of it as a brilliant light appeared in front of me.
She walked towards it, dragging my soul behind her.
She paused before stepping through, turning her head to look at me.
“Dirty your hands for me. Show me you love me enough to kill your soul.”
I jerked awake at three in the morning, and I spent the rest of the night in the gym. I didn’t pummel the bags like I wanted to though. I sat with my back to the door, my wings spread out, and I watched Jace move through the darkness like the monster he was.
He didn’t move with a cold, twisted rage. He was it. His hands and feet darted out with a speed that seemed capable of hurting the air itself. I didn’t dare move, didn’t dare draw attention to myself as he worked through his own grief.
At six in the morning, he dropped to his knees and cried.
It’s seven now. He’s silent. I am too. The light of day is trickling through the branches of the tree, but its warmth does not seem to penetrate this room.
“We’ll go to the Court today,” he says. His voice reveals nothing of the pain inside. It’s bright and cheery, and only the redness of his eyes belies the tears he finished shedding.
I want to ask him how he is, but I know that question is fucking moot.
I’ve only known Arienna for a few days, and already, I’m sick at the thought of losing her.
Jace spent nearly a decade protecting Aurelia, only to fail at the hands of his best friend.
At a single cup laced with poison as we sat and laughed at her side, pretending it was just another meal. Another night.
The scar on my hand burns, but I don’t look at it. Jace might be smiling, but I can feel the rawness still twisting him up inside. He’s never more dangerous than when his thoughts of Aurelia can’t be quieted – not that they are ever truly quiet. He carries her with him even more than I do.
So instead, I stand. “Not the Court,” I say. “Petre.”
The twelve Court members are technically all equal in power, but there’s the wording of the law, then there’s the reality of it.
I only need to sway Petre to get them to drop the charges against Arienna, and although she is the most dangerous of them all, at least she has a sense of morality; she might (definitely will) try to use my queen against me, but she won’t hurt her for the mere sake of hurting me. But Tanya and many of the others will.
Jace tilts his head to the side in agreement, then lifts his arms over his head. He sniffs an armpit, then gags. “Ugh. I stink. I’m going to hit the shower first. Try not to die in the meantime.”
Die before I fully claim Arienna? I don’t fucking think so. For the first time in a long time, I remember what it’s like to hope.
Unsurprisingly, we find Petre in the castle dungeons. She loves spending her spare time torturing prisoners. Though given Jace didn’t let me use Karl as an output for my anger yesterday, I’m almost tempted to join her.
She is in Kiki’s cell, the last of the women who tried to assassinate me on my wedding night. Kneeling over the woman’s chest, Petre holds a toilet plunger in her hands, the end of which is pushed over her victims face. Kiki’s hands claws at the ground as her legs fruitlessly kick.
“Inventive,” I say dryly as Jace and I stop in front of the cell.
Looking over her shoulder, Petre smiles at us, her dark olive skin crinkling at the eyes. As she yanks the plunger up, a loud welch makes my gut twist. Turning her head to the side, Kiki gasps in air, dark-brown marks and bits of tissue stuck to her face.
“You didn’t even clean it beforehand – classy.”
“I figured if she was going to talk shit, she might as well eat it.”
An image of Tanya in Kiki’s place makes my lips twitch. “And what exactly did she talk shit about?”
“She claimed Jace deliberately targeted Tanya’s nieces on your orders and planted weapons on them all afterward.” Rising to her feet, she whacks the end of the plunger against the woman’s stomach, flicking it clean.
My eyes narrow. “It is a crime to tamper with a witness’ testimony.” Even if said statement is a lie.
But it says something, that I’m more worried about Petre being on our side than such a damning accusation thrown against us.
But I can counter that testimony in court with my own witnesses.
What I can’t do is prepare for an attack when I don’t know from which direction it’s coming.
Petre never does anything unless she has something to gain.
Stepping out of the cell, she pulls the dungeon wand out of her tunic. “I haven’t tampered with anything,” she says. The white-painted bars reform behind her as she waves it. “I’m just invoking my right to talk to the witness.”
“With a plunger?” I ask deadpanned.
She twirls it in her hand. “Given the dimwits I’m forced to work with these days, it’s the smartest person I know. At least it doesn’t go trancing around thinking it’s the fucking Maridal Everdene of our time.”
Maridal was a genius advisor to the original Raza queen.
Despite my unease, I fight a smile. For everything Petre is, she’s a stickler for the laws, and she doesn’t like anyone stretching them any further than is honourable. “You mean Tanya?” It isn’t a question.
Her cat-like, silver-and-green eyes narrow. “If she had thought about it for a second, she would have realised that pushing the member issue would hurt the Court more than you.” Her eyes flicker to Jace. “You would lose him –”
“And you’d lose half your members given how many of you have had miscarriages,” I finish for her, having already come to that same conclusion in the early hours of this morning.
Oyveni’s laws, as much of a pain in the ass they are, define life as starting at the time of conception. Although that law has been scaled back given we’re no longer on the verge of extinction, I will use whatever ammunition I have in order to save Jace.
His life is non-negotiable.
As is Arienna’s.
“Quite,” she says. “So since you haven’t sought me out to ask me to drop the charges against him given Tanya will do it for you soon enough, what do you want?”
Tilting my head, I gesture for her to walk with me. As we move through the dungeons, I say, “I want to know when you’re planning on executing the brownie.” I don’t call my queen by name; this entire approach is a dance of words and silent manipulation.
If Petre thinks that I’m only worried about sharing my crown, then she’ll never suspect that I’m falling for her. My queen will be safe from the politics of Court – for a while at least. It will also push them into thinking of saving Arienna themselves, so I don’t have to reveal my hand.
I’m sure they’ve figured out that the seal on the portal to Earth hasn’t been broken. With no evidence against her, they could drop the case and force me to keep her as queen. In their eyes, Arienna will be an easy puppet. They could use her to get rid of me.
And although, they genuinely could, it’s a risk with my life that I’m willing to take to save hers. I’ve always figured out how to survive; I’ll do it again. And again. And again. However long it takes me to have a future with my queen.
Petre looks at me over her shoulder, her eyes shrewd. I keep my face full of boredom, letting her think I don’t care one way or another.
She smiles with all the venom of a snake.
“Is she not satisfying you, Your Majesty? I hear she has the tits and pussy of a whore, according to one of your guards. You had her in your study, then again last night in your chambers – bit obsessive for a man who hasn’t had a night-time visitor in over three years. ”
Which fucking guard said that? I turn my clenched jaw into a dismissive snort. “Brownies are sex fiends. But once I finished, I threw her out. She’s too soft for my liking.”
“Ever the gentleman.” Her eyes roam over my face. She can look all she wants though; she isn’t finding shit to use against me. “And yet,” she purrs, “you went to her house to pick up her belongings. Risked yourself with over a dozen wasps just because she cried.”
“I went to Brownston,” I say flatly, “to discuss the trade agreement with their king and queen. I knew dealing with a wasp infestation for them would solidify our arrangement.” When we reach the balcony of the dungeons, I ask again, “When is her execution?” I let the first crack of frustration bleed into my voice, and she drinks it up with a lazy smile.
“Never,” she says.
My jaw tightens as fury flashes in my eyes. “What do you mean, never? She tried to enter the portal. If we don’t kill her, then the archangels –”
“Will do nothing. They’ll only care if the seal is broken. Which it isn’t.” Her eyes laugh at me. “Did you really think you could take a bride and have us get rid of her for you so you could keep pretending to be worthy of wearing Raza’s crown?”
“I am worthy,” I hiss, lying through my teeth; if it was up to me, I never would’ve been king. “I killed Seqora in a fairy ring. The crown is rightfully mine.”
Her eyes narrow into slits. “For now. But it won’t be as soon as that girl becomes queen.”
“She’s a fucking brownie,” I snap in disgust. “You can’t think she’ll be fit to rule Raza.”
“Not on her own, no. But with a Court at her back,” she says, drawing herself up to her full height, “she’ll be exactly what we need.”
Spreading her wings, she launches into the air and takes off through the tunnels. I stand at the edge, watching her disappear, my jaw tight. Despite this being the outcome I wanted, the fury inside me is blinding.
If Petre was swayed that easily, that means she already has a plan for my queen.
“Jace,” I say, my gut tightening in anticipation of going to war. “Figure out where Evangeline is.”
Knowing Petre as well as I do, I know she won’t stop until her own daughter is on the throne. Which means she’ll have plans to get rid of me as soon as Arienna is crowned. And then she’ll trick my queen into marrying the woman I refused to: Evangeline fucking Sinclair.