Chapter 20 Garrett #5
“I think you need help remembering your manners,” he says.
He pulls her against him and forces her into the first steps of a dance, moving her like a doll made for his amusement.
“Let her go!” I grip the wooden bars until the thorns pierce my palms and blood runs over my fingers.
Ruthven laughs and spins her too sharply. Rhianelle stumbles, pain flashing across her face as her injured foot catches beneath her.
“Oh, come now,” Ruthven murmurs, tightening his grip before she can fall. “A queen should know every step of the dance.”
Shade lunges against the branches holding him. “Take your hands off her, or I’ll carve them from your wrists.”
Beside him, Lucien snarls and throws his weight against the wooden chains, snapping his teeth toward Ruthven as if he could tear through the cage by sheer rage alone.
Svenn watches from beside Lilith and does nothing. He watches Ruthven drag Rhianelle across the floor as though she means nothing to him.
Thormein sends chains of living wood through the cage. They bind my wrists and pin Shade, Rainer, and Lucien against the bars. He does not bother restraining Landon. The Herald is barely conscious.
Lilith lowers herself into Svenn’s lap. She winds one arm around his shoulders and leans against his chest, the gesture clearly meant for Rhianelle to see.
Rhianelle still refuses to look at them.
Ruthven notices that too. His grip on Rhianelle tightens every time Lilith leans closer to Svenn. Her refusal to acknowledge him only sharpens his fury.
“You are not following the rhythm,” he tells Rhianelle.
“I have never cared for dancing,” she mutters.
Ruthven smiles without humor. “Perhaps you need better shoes.”
He releases her long enough to cross to a black casket near the throne. When he opens it, rows of instruments gleam inside. He removes a pair of metal shoes with long tongs and lowers them into the green flames burning beneath the table.
The metal begins to glow.
“These should improve your steps,” he says. “You will dance beautifully once you are wearing them.”
Rhianelle’s face pales, but she does not step back.
I pull against the restraints until the wood cuts into my wrists. Across the chamber, Svenn remains silent while Ruthven lifts the heated shoes from the flames.
Shade twists against the branches pinning him, his summoning circles flaring and dying beneath the suppressing enchantments.
Rainer tries to rise, but the poison leaves him too weak to do more than brace one hand against the floor.
Lucien snarls and snaps at the chains around his body, tearing at the living wood until blood stains his teeth.
Even Landon struggles to move. He drags himself a few inches across the floor before his remaining arm gives way beneath him.
None of us can reach her.
Svenn suddenly speaks. “Let me be the one to put them on her.”
Everyone freezes.
“What?” Ruthven turns to look at him.
“Let me put the shoes on her.” Svenn walks forward. “You want to break her. Let me be the one to do it. Let me show her that she was always just a fool who trusted the wrong monster.”
“Arescaine,” Rhianelle whispers.
Lilith claps her hands together delightedly. “Yes! Oh, yes. Let him do it.”
Ruthven hesitates, clearly wanting to do it himself.
Lilith leans forward, eyes bright with cruel excitement. “I want to see her face when he puts them on her.”
Ruthven’s jaw tightens, but Lilith’s word is law. He hands the tongs to Svenn with obvious reluctance. “Don’t disappoint me, brother.”
Svenn takes them from him. For a moment, he only stands there. The metal heats slowly, turning from dull iron to angry red. Smoke curls from the fire. Svenn watches it as though he is waiting for something, though I cannot imagine what.
“The shoes, Andras,” Ruthven snaps. “Do not keep our queen waiting.”
Svenn reaches into the flames and lifts the white-hot shoes with his bare hands. The metal blackens his palms, but the burned flesh closes almost as quickly as it chars.
He does not flinch.
Lilith leans forward upon the throne. “Shall we begin? I believe we have a queen to break.”
She looks at Svenn expectantly.
“As you command, my lady,” Svenn says.
Ruthven and Lilith laugh. Bas remains seated beside the Fae King, both of them watching in silence as Svenn moves closer to Rhianelle.
Slowly, he kneels before her.
She looks down at him. For several heartbeats, neither of them speaks. Svenn raises his eyes to hers, and the emptiness leaves them. I see pain there, deep and raw enough that my anger falters.
Rhianelle sees it too. Her lips part, but no sound comes.
“Your queen needs her dancing slippers,” Ruthven says.
Svenn lowers the shoes toward Rhianelle’s feet.
I am going to be sick.
I pull against the chains again, but they do not move. Shade summons a blade into his hand, but the circle collapses before he can cut through the restraints. Rainer collapses against the bars. Lucien claws at the wood until his paws bleed. Landon cannot even lift himself from the floor.
We can only watch.
The throne room goes dark.