Chapter 46
I didn’t go back to her rooms after that, and she didn’t leave them—which was probably for the best, even if Kirill thought otherwise. Despite my father’s assurance that my work in the north would be enough to earn me my captive, I still had responsibilities at the estate and in the villages themselves.
And then, of course, there were the occasional bouts of slaughter and torture he would randomly assign as well.
And yet, it still wasn’t quite enough to distract me from thoughts of the princess. From her resentful expression and the hint of devastation in her tone as she spoke about a war none of us would be able to avoid.
A muscle worked in my jaw as I shoved those thoughts aside. It was difficult enough to focus on the monotonous task of census-taking without red-headed princesses disrupting my count.
Family after family approached the Orotasi town square with formal requests for an increase in food rations, along with proof of the new mouths they had to feed. Some of them had taken on the wife and children of an Unclanned. Others presented certificates of birth for their new children.
At tedium, I reviewed their information before using my signet ring to give my official stamp of approval.
We were barely through the line, with at least thirty families to go, when the sound of hooves grew louder. Snow and dirt flew into the air as Yuriy barreled into the village on his destrier.
He didn’t wait for the animal to come to a full stop before leaping from the beast and racing toward us. Panic twisted my gut and every muscle in my body went rigid.
I had assigned him as Rowan’s guard that day. I had left him outside of her door with the same order I had given him a thousand times before. He wouldn’t just abandon her. Wouldn’t just defy me.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
I hadn’t even registered drawing my swords until the woman closest to me let out a shriek. She hurriedly dragged her children away as I met Yuriy on the street.
“You must come,” he panted out, pointing in the direction of the estate.
I didn’t even need to ask Kirill to fetch my horse before he was racing toward the stables, the rest of our soldiers already packing our things up for the day.
“Tell me,” I ordered my youngest cousin.
Yuriy dipped his chin once, steeling himself for whatever it was that had him so horrified.
“Your father and Lady Mairi,” he began, and already I was seeing red. “The princess was caught in his rooms.”
My mind went momentarily blank. Why? Why would she walk straight into the bear’s den? Had it been an accident? Was she seeking him out? Did she think she could manipulate him into helping her leave?
Taras let out a string of curses while his brother continued with one new horrifying fact after another.
Lochlannian spy.
Thirty lashes.
Samu at the whip…
I wasn’t prone to panic. In fact, I had spent most of my life priding myself on keeping a level head when everything went to hell. But that was before I imagined the princess chained to the whipping post as the very life was flogged from her body.
Before I could imagine the way her blood would spill out on the snow, matching her perfect crimson curls.
I swallowed hard, shaking the feeling away, burying it deep beneath my mounting fury instead.
“Yuriy, fetch the master healer,” I said, as Kirill rejoined us with the horses.
I quickly sheathed my swords before mounting my horse and barking out my next several orders.
“Kirill, grab the wax bandages from the storehouse. As many as you can. And Taras?—”
“I’m with you,” he cut me off, but I didn’t have any intention of arguing.
I might need his help for what lie ahead.
Or at the very least, his restraint.
I should have found a way to leave her at the negotiations.
Better yet, I should have found a way to leave her at the Summit. I should have done literally anything but cart the most chaotic, unpredictable woman in the world along to a place that relies on nuances and discipline and doing what the hell you’re told every once in a while.
I told myself that’s why my blood was roaring in my ears when I heard her scream sound in time with the crack of a whip.
Anger.
At her. At Mairi. At Clan Storms-blasted Elk. Even at myself.
Rage. Because that I could work with.
Even if the feeling sending waves of bile up my throat felt suspiciously close to the panic that had threatened to consume me earlier. Even if I had felt every ounce of blood drain from my face when Yuriy panted out his story, that she had snuck into my father’s rooms, that she had spoken up before my cousin could be blamed, that she was at the flogging post.
That Samu was holding the whip.
There was no end to the carnage I had witnessed in my lifetime—storms, that I had caused in my lifetime. This should be no different.
She was only ever meant to be a pawn, a way to ensure my people were safe until I could get her spoiled, reckless arse back to Lochlann. But when I finally caught sight of her through the gathered crowd, I knew the time for lying to myself was over.
Because looking at her now, I knew I would find a way to murder every last person who was complicit in getting her to this state.
My eyes flitted over her, trying to assess how badly she was injured while I worked like hell to keep my emotions in check. It was a skill I had mastered as a child, one that hadn’t been tested in years before she came along.
Her small hands were trembling, and deep gashes marred her pale skin, each one leaking trails of crimson down the torn shreds of her dress. It was one I had commissioned for her.
The green one.
Her favorite, if the regularity with which she wore it was any indication.
And now it was little more than a macabre canvas for the blood flowing freely from her wounds, staining the snow beneath her feet.
Another hitching breath escaped her, and I clenched my fists to keep from drawing my swords.
“Playing with my pet, Stepmother?” I couldn’t have hidden the anger in my voice if I had tried, so I didn’t bother. Let the soldiers think this was nothing more than a power struggle.
Several of the men watching backed away, their eyes locked onto Taras and me as we made our way to the middle of the crowd.
Even Mairi flinched at the sound of my voice, her squared shoulders falling ever so slightly as she glanced my way. Then her expression hardened, her thin lips curling up at the corner.
Power struggle, indeed.
“I was merely seeing that your father’s orders were carried out,” she responded. “Your prisoner tried to escape.”
Like hell she did.
Rowan might have been reckless, but she wasn’t an idiot. If she had wanted to escape, she wouldn’t have done it in the middle of the morning, in broad daylight, by going through my father’s rooms.
Why the hell had she gone into my father’s rooms?
“Did she, now?” I asked, buying myself time to figure out how the hell to get her out of this.
I moved even closer to her trembling form, concentrating on my measured footsteps in an effort to remain calm. A calm that nearly crumbled entirely when I came face to face with the carnage that my stepmother had wrought.
The princess’s skin was ripped open almost to the bone, and yet she clung to consciousness, like she could stubborn her way through this experience exactly the way she did every other.
I was standing directly in front of her now, so close I could feel the heat from her wounds. That’s when Rowan looked up from where she was slumped against the pole, her green gaze latching steadily onto mine.
Of course, I should have known better than to expect a single sign of defeat. If anything, her eyes were blazing even brighter than usual, fury and pain and accusation morphing the pale jade color into something sharper.
I bit back a groan of frustration, rethinking my stance on her being an idiot. Did she want to get herself killed?
Though for all her misplaced blame, her accusation hadn’t missed the mark. At the very least, she was only here because of me. I had known Mairi would be a problem, and I had taken a calculated risk. Rowan had been resigned, and I hadn't given her any sign that I was trying to solve this problem.
That I was trying to get her home.
Was that why she had gone to my father? Risked the dubious assistance of a madman rather than trust me?
“It seems I can’t leave you alone for five seconds, Lemmikki.” The words were out before I could stop them, and I wondered if she heard the regret in them as clearly as I did.
Likely not, if the expression on her face was anything to go by. That was probably for the best.
“If you can’t hide the defiance in your eyes,” I said in a lower tone, “at least have the sense to close them.”
She stared back at me with thinly veiled disbelief, and I bit back a curse. I hadn’t thought it was possible for her to look even less cowed, but then, she was nothing if not unexpected.
“What were my father’s exact words?” I demanded of Samu, wondering if there was a loophole to be exploited there since apparently Rowan had no intention of being helpful in my endeavor to save her life.
“He said to give her the appropriate punishment ,” the soldier answered, his voice a false pretense of respect.
My gaze slid over to my stepmother’s smug face. My father wasn’t even here, which likely meant this wasn’t one of his lucid days. I had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t the one who ordered this at all.
“And how many lashes has she had?” I steeled myself for the answer.
“Twelve, my lord,” he responded evenly. And he had been ordered to give her thirty.
Samu’s grip tightened around the handle of his weapon, like it was physically paining him not to continue.
I ground my teeth, a muscle in my jaw twitching from the strain.
To hell with my sabers.
I wondered how the aalio would feel about being on the other end of his precious whip. I wondered exactly how long I could drag out his pain before he succumbed to unconsciousness. Before he bled out on the very snow where he had dared to spill the blood of someone who belonged to me.
“Twelve lashes for a tiny slip of a princess when twenty is standard for a grown man, and a soldier, at that.” Some of whom had faltered far more quickly than she did. “I would say that’s more than…appropriate.” I bit the word out.
Mairi looked from me to Rowan, like she was weighing the risks of pushing the issue against the benefits of seeing the princess cower, and I knew I was missing something. The hatred in my stepmother’s gaze felt more personal than if she had merely been using Rowan as a means by which to undermine me.
Rowan stirred next to me, pulling my attention back to her. The challenge in her eyes was still palpable, and I silently willed her to rein it in.
Mairi wanted complete submission, and I wasn’t sure that was something Rowan was willing to feign, even now, when her storms-damned life was hanging in the balance.
Just when I suspected that the princess would ruin everything I was trying to do by glaring again, Rowan unexpectedly shut her eyes in at least a marginal effort to conceal her fury.
Releasing a short breath, I turned to the crowd.
“Besides,” I continued, my tone far more casual than I felt, “we wouldn’t want her to die before we have the chance to use her against our dear neighbors, would we?”
There was a nervous shuffling. Socairans were nothing if not vengeful, and we had nearly lost our only leverage against the kingdom they hated for this pettiness. Finally, I turned to Mairi, playing my final, riskiest card.
“Of course, we could always fetch my father, but I would hate to trouble him with something so trivial. Wouldn’t you, Stepmother?”
It was a gamble, but she would lose what little power she had to speak for him if I called my father down here and he sided with me, something we both knew was more likely than not. I wasn’t a child anymore. I was the heir to his clan, and he would sooner let her look weak in front of our people than he would me.
Her eyes hardened at the challenge. “Of course,” she said after a beat.
I scarcely had time to wonder why she didn’t sound more defeated when she turned to Samu.
“One more, then, for her to remember this by.” Mairi’s lips pulled into a malicious mockery of a smile, and any semblance of calm I was holding on to effectively vanished.
My heart pounded a furious rhythm as I opened my mouth to argue, but Samu’s hand was already moving, eagerness lighting up his sadistic eyes.
I let my calm mask drop when Rowan’s scream rang out, letting Samu see the murderous intent blazing from my expression. This would not go unanswered.
He would die for this.
In spite of himself, the soldier’s face paled several shades. He backed away, and I stepped forward to unlock the chains holding Rowan to the post. She collapsed as soon as the shackles opened, and I knelt down to catch her.
“No,” she muttered. Of course she did.
Of course she would argue against help now, when she was completely incapable of standing, let alone walking.
I wasn’t sure what stopped me from hauling her to her feet anyway, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do anything else against her will. So I found myself pleading with her instead.
“For once in your storms-blasted life, Rowan, choose your battle wisely.”
She met my gaze, her eyes blurring in and out of focus, and she managed a small, barely perceptible nod just before she lost consciousness entirely.