Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
A good brownie never checks out books on murder.
These are some very specific rules… - Arienna
Dear gods, how is murdering someone this hard? Fabia’s books always make it sound so easy. Set fire to someone’s house. Drop a piano on their head. Drown them in their bathtub. Easy peasy.
But I live in the same house as my target.
I highly doubt he’s going to stand on a drawn X on the floor while I lug a piano above his head.
And I just know it’ll be a terrible idea if I approach him while he’s having a bath.
And even if I did do the latter, how would I even drown him considering he is so much bigger than me?
What, am I going to waltz in there with a toaster under my arm, pretending it’s a sex toy?
“Oh, hey, hubbie, want to close your eyes for me while I stick your schlong in a hot, warm hole?”
Then drown him as he’s screaming about his dick?
For some reason, I don’t think that’s going to be any easier. I reckon a man might fight harder if his dick is on the line.
Closing my eyes on a silent groan, I lie in bed and try not to think about said dick.
About how well I felt it last night, even though it was still between multiple layers of clothing.
Fuck me, the belt thing I made was a good idea.
Richard called it a chastity belt; I called it the only way to hold on to my sanity.
If he’d fucked me in the hall, there’s no way I’d be able to kill him.
Already, it’s getting quite hard. Every time I close my eyes, I see his smile.
The sadness he hides. The desire to be seen as something other than the monster his own people believe him to be.
My heart aches for him. I love monsters.
I love them because no one else will, and everyone deserves to be loved.
To know what it’s like to have somewhere they belong.
And Richard, dang it all, is really starting to feel like where I belong.
In his arms. Sitting beside him on the throne. Ruling as king and queen.
But that is nothing but a fantasy.
Throwing off my covers, I climb out of bed and try to figure out what my next move is.
A lot of brownies die of laughter, but I’ve always struggled to tell jokes.
Not because I’m not hilarious, but because they’re so darn funny that I can’t breathe well enough to tell them.
Fabia still hasn’t heard my funniest joke because I end up on the floor before I can get the second sentence out.
I could take him for a walk through my old carnivorous plants, which are now planted well away from Brownston thanks to Fabia’s insistence, but they take hours to digest their food, and in that time, Richard would definitely just cut his way out of them.
Even if I somehow knocked him out and then dumped his body at their feeding grounds, there’s still the issue of Jace.
Turning, I face the pile of books that I brought back from Brownston. I already flipped through them and ruled out all the murderous ideas Fabia included in her works, but maybe I should take a second look. After all, I didn’t finish re-reading the one Richard had caught me with.
Then again, I’m not in possession of a barbed slug dick that’s sharp enough to pierce through a female’s belly. And even if I was… that is not the sort of pegging I am in to.
Blowing out a breath, I pace over to the windows in the sitting area.
Reaching from floor-to-ceiling, they look out over the bustling city of Kholar.
As the sun dances through the leaves, I think about all the shops and attractions I’ll never get to visit: the nefarious arena where prisoners of war can fight for their freedom, the battlefields where kids as young as two start to train, and the beautifully carved library that’s situated in the trunk of the tree above the castle.
I can’t see it from here, but I know of it from Fabia’s stories.
She says it’s the Secret Wonder of Gaera, a building so beautiful, it’s been blessed by Aphrodite, the Graecian Goddess of Love.
My eyes widen as I press my face to the glass and try to look up. That’s it! The library must be full of How to Kill People books! I just need to grab a few and do my research!
Turning from the window, I scurry to the door of my suite and yank it open.
“Morning,” I say to the two guards stationed there. “Hope you are well. I would like to visit the library, please.” I pause, realising that though they’ve both been outside my door for days, I have no idea what either of their names are.
Bugger, I’ve been a terrible brownie all around recently. Turning to the one who showed me to Richard’s study on our wedding night, I throw my arms around her. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m Arienna. What’s your name?”
The woman stands entirely rigid, with her hands at her sides. “I’m Marrabel.”
“Hi, Marrabel.” I turn to the other guard and hug her too. “And you?”
“I’m her sister, Saragese.” She clears her throat. “Um, Your Majesty?”
“Yes?” I ask, leaning back to look her in the eye. She isn’t looking at me though; her gaze is locked on the ceiling.
“Would you like to put on some clothes before we head to the library?”
Gasping, I jerk away from her and look down at myself. Oh no! I was so caught up in planning murder that I didn’t think about clothes. Probably because they don’t seem to be doing much good here anyway.
“Ah,” I squeak, blushing as the thoughts of last night fill my mind. “My apologies.” Darting back into my room, I close the door.
The next time I step out, the two guards finally meet my eye. I smile at them cheerfully. They both noticeably relax. “So,” I say, “can you show me to the library above the castle, please?”
Marrabel nods. “This way, Your Majesty.” She walks in front of me while Saragese brings up the rear.
I take the time to study her, trying to peek into Fabia’s future.
Her hair, like her sister’s, is a midnight blue, cut short to her scalp.
But whereas Saragese has a short mohawk, Marrabel has a uniform cut all around.
She moves with the same grace that everyone seems to have here, and one hand lingers on the hilt of her sword. My eyes narrow in curiosity as I notice a marking on the back of her hand, peeking out of her sleeve.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to it.
She lifts her hand up and pulls down her sleeve, showing it to me fully. It wraps all the way down her arm – black thorny vines crawling over each other in intricate shapes, with characters in the middle of every eye-shaped gap. “It’s a rune for my magic,” she says.
“That’s so cool! What’s it do? We don’t have any witches in Brownston.”
“I will tell you if you order me to, but it’s dangerous for a witch to share the secrets of their runes.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Because a lot of witches overly rely on their magic,” she says. “And if our enemies can map our runes, then they’ll know where to target to incapacitate us the quickest.”
I frown. “But if you know you overly rely on it, then why do you?”
She looks over her shoulder at me with a smirk. “Because it’s a lot easier to stab someone with your sword if you can wrap vines around their legs to hold them in place.”
My eyes widen. “You can do that? How long does it take? Can you do it at the same time as swinging a sword?”
“Not all witches can, but I can.”
“Wait. Isn’t it dangerous for you to tell me what you can do?”
“Secrecy is always best for a witch, but I’ve used that spell enough times for people to know I can do it, so it’s not really a secret anymore.”
We step onto the balcony, and as I’m guided closer to the edge, I realise that we’ve picked up a lot more guards along the way. Almost all of the ones that I thought we passed in the hall are now out here with us. Ten women, two men, plus the four guards who always stand at the balcony.
Another woman joins us, heading straight for Saragese. “King Richard’s been informed of where we’re going,” she murmurs to her.
“Has he given us leave?”
The guard nods, and Marrabel lifts me, cradling me in her arms. As she spreads her wings, I swallow down the introduction I was about to give to all these new people. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tremble against her. We take to the air, and I yelp, then start to pant.
Marrabel’s voice hits my ears, flat yet stern. “You better relax, Your Majesty, because I am not fingering you.”
Oh my gods. Just drop me now. “How far is it?” I squeak.
“Not far. The royal floor is at the top of the castle, and Aurelia’s Library isn’t far above it.”
I nod, feeling sick. I try to fight the fear as much as I can, but after only a few more seconds, I’m scrambling in her arms. While clutching at her as hard as I can, I try to get my head off to the side.
“What are you –” She breaks off as I vomit on a groan.
“Aw, gross!” someone below us shouts.
Marrabel cackles as she flies faster. “We’re almost there, Your Majesty.”
When she sets me down on the library’s balcony, she makes sure I’m not facing her. As I fall to my hands and knees, she kneels down beside me, holding my hair back.
“Please tell me you have a slide or something for the way back,” I rasp as I suck in harsh breaths.
“Sorry. Having wings kind of negates that need.”
I moan. “Can you bring my bed up to the library? I can sleep here from now on.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I know the answer is ‘no’.
Sighing, I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, then push myself to my feet. She releases my hair. I tell her thank you, introduce myself to the new guards one by one, learn all their names, apologise to Sarrabel for throwing up on her, and then I turn towards the library, and –
Oh.
My.
Gods.
Screw a certain shirtless man with a dreamy chest. This is beauty.