Chapter 39
Adrum jolts me from sleep.
Grey dawn seeps through the curtains, and a lead weight settles in my stomach.
“Briar,” Thea whispers.
A lump rises in my throat. “I know.”
Execution drums.
Jumping from bed, I dart to the dressing room. I throw a gown over my head and lace the corset, but my fingers tremble on the cords.
“Let me,” Thea says, coming up behind me.
She pulls the laces from my hands and I twist my hair into a braid, letting it drape over my heaving chest. “I have to stop them.”
Thea’s fingers pause. “They know the law, Briar. They know they shouldn’t have been out last night. There’s nothing you can do.”
The drums continue their chant, each beat a nail into my chest. “But I have to try.”
She finishes the back of my dress and steps away, her eyes red and swollen.
My brows pinch. “What’s wrong?”
A tear trails down her face, and she knuckles it away. “Every night I go to bed terrified I’ll wake up to these drums—that it’ll be you on the platform. If you get caught, they’ll kill you.”
I fold her into a hug. “I’m not going to get caught.”
A shudder wracks her body. “I can’t lose you.”
Leaning back, I bracket her face with my hands and commit to memory every line of her face, the slope of her jaw, the fierce blue of her eyes. “You won’t. To the ends of the earth, remember?”
She lets out a strangled laugh, but a smile doesn’t follow. “To the ends of the earth.”
A fist pounds on the door and tears us apart.
Thea swipes at her eyes and sucks in a deep breath, straightening her shoulders. She pads to the dresser and hands me my dagger. “I’ll feel better if you have this.”
“Thank you.” I make quick work strapping it around my upper thigh.
A knock comes again, louder. I stride to the door and pull it open.
My blood runs cold.
“Briar,” Caelus drawls.
His tailored navy suit is pressed free of wrinkles, and his lips curve into an easy grin. Like he’s not about to order the deaths of innocent people.
I breathe through my nose and stop my hands from grabbing my dagger. “My king.”
“You’ll be joining me for the executions.”
His words aren’t a question or an invitation, but a demand. I glance into the room. Thea’s throat bobs on a swallow, and her hand clenches around a bed post, as if that’s the only thing holding her back.
“Of course,” I say, lifting my cloak from the hook. I wrap it over my shoulders and follow him into the hallway.
A pair of royal guards trail at a distance, and even in the heart of the castle, the drums reverberate through the walls. I grit my teeth and keep my feet steady down the grand staircase.
Caelus holds my fingertips, guiding me as if I’m incapable.
His grip tightens until my knuckles crack. “The ball is tomorrow. You have until then to find out Kressa’s secrets. You wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt now, would you?” He squeezes harder. “I believe you’re quite close to Thea.”
My stomach tumbles. “You wouldn’t.”
He leans closer, his breath a brand on my skin. “You know, I could kill her now if I wanted to. My guards have seen her with that pirate. Harriet, if I remember right. And that belt I found in your room nearly three weeks ago? It wasn’t really your uncle’s, was it?”
The blood drains from my face, and he releases my hand.
He smirks. “I didn’t think so. But, I’m willing to turn a blind eye if you find the information I want.”
The words sit on the edge of my tongue. I could tell him who Kressa really is and guarantee Thea’s safety. But she’d expose my theft. And even if she didn’t, the people she’s been sending to Ignata would have nowhere to go.
That gives me one option—get Thea far, far away.
I swallow past the rising lump in my throat and nod. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Bodies pack the courtyard, cramming into the space for the execution they’re required to attend. Lined against the back wall, surrounded by armed guards, stand a group of people dressed in rags, their eyes red and swollen. Family.
Royal guards part the crowd for us, and Caelus grips my upper arm in a vice. We come to the raised platform, and my chest grows heavy, bile gathering in my throat. I drop my gaze as we climb the set of stairs, unable to bear looking at those who will die for honoring me.
Another drum tolls, rattling the platform.
It should be me kneeling on the wood, waiting for a blade to strike the base of my neck. It should be me dying.
I swallow mouthfuls of air, but it doesn’t reach my lungs, and my breaths quicken. Black blurs the edges of my vision, and I fist my hands into my dress, fighting the sting behind my eyes.
Briar, love. Breathe.
A single tear falls to the wooden board, stained with blood from prior executions. Head bowed, I scan the crowd and find Kressa staring at me.
You’re okay. I’m here. Focus on me.
Another tear falls. Her words wouldn’t be so calming if she knew I was the princess she hates so fiercely.
Caelus brings his mouth to my ear and snarls, “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m fine.”
Isolde appears from behind a group of armed guards, and she stops on Caelus’s other side. Diamonds drip from her gown like frozen raindrops, and I study her from under my lashes, begging her to look my way—to offer the comfort we so often give each other.
She doesn’t.
Caelus regards her. “You’d think they would learn, after all these years.”
“Serves them right,” Isolde says, her lip curled.
Pressure builds in my chest. In an entire decade, I’ve never known her to be so cruel.
In the crowd, Kressa watches me, and a calm resolve sweeps though the bond, coating me like a quilt. I steel my spine and raise my head, giving my followers the dignity and respect they deserve.
Ropes bind the wrists of a dozen people kneeling on the platform, sacks thrown over their heads. The one closest to me shifts, his bare knees bloody against the rough wood. His skin is aged, hands wrinkled. Grey hair peeks from under the sack.
The elderly man from the slums.
My breath catches.
Dolma.
She must have been with him last night. My heart ricochets against my ribs as I search for a protruding belly. I stagger forward and trace a hand over my dagger.
Don’t.
I freeze at Kressa’s voice. Each of my muscles strain, ready to spring across the platform and take the blade meant for Dolma. I can’t let them kill her.
She isn’t up there.
I blink. How do you know?
Caelus waves a gust of wind over the courtyard, silencing the crowd. “Those before you have been accused and charged of worshipping the Princess of the Sea. An act punishable by death.”
Cheers ring from the crowd, as if death should ever be reason to celebrate.
Kressa doesn’t take her eyes off me. She left on one of the ships, with a newborn daughter safely swaddled in her arms.
My eyes widen. You saved her?
Another breeze silences the applause.
Kressa nods, her lips pressed into a thin line. If she’s important to you, she’s important to me. But I couldn’t save them all.
“Remove the sacks,” Caelus bellows.
The guards obey and tear the sacks off, revealing an entire group from the slums. People who sleep without a roof over their heads, not knowing where their next meal will come from.
My chest hollows out, and the platform spins beneath my feet.
That day I found you in the castle was my first time returning to Sarenia after it fell. I had just come off a ship.
My fists unfurl.
I understand why you love the ocean so much, Kressa says, her voice a salve to my nerves. There’s nothing more peaceful than the sway of a ship, the endless possibilities of the sea stretching ahead of you.
“Guards,” Caelus yells, “ready your blades.”
I bite down on my cheek hard enough to draw blood, and my pulse thrashes in my ears, drowning out the drums gaining speed.
Briar. Focus on my voice. I’m here.
The booming crowd blurs, and my ears fill with a high-pitched ring, dulling each of my senses.
That morning, before the first trial, when I found you on the turret?
I’ve never experienced anything like that sunrise, watching the way it painted your face in violets and golds.
The way your eyes came to life at the sight of the sun kissing the horizon.
It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Metal glistens, blades reflecting the sun as the guards lift them far over their heads. Tears stream down my face, and I hold on to my connection with Kressa like a lifeline.
A warmth sweeps over me, calm and steady, like my sun-beaten deck on a summer afternoon.
I’m here, my love.
“All hail the King,” a guard calls, voice projected on a wisp of wind.
Blades arc through the air and meet the soft flesh of the men and women lining the platform. A scream escapes my throat, drowned out by the pounding drums, and a spray of blood coats the front of my dress.
As one, the bodies fall. Lifeless. Blood pools across the boards, seeping through the cracks.
I pin Caelus with a glare. “You’re a monster.”
Like a whip, he slaps me. My head jerks to the side, and somewhere in the crowd, a commotion stirs. My vision reddens, blocking out everything but seething rage.
I bring my fingers to the stinging skin where a welt is already forming.
He lowers his face within an inch of mine. “Do not forget who you’re speaking to. One toe out of line, Briar, and I’ll make you watch me torture her. That slap will seem like child’s play.” He grips my arm, fingernails digging into skin. “Do you understand?”
I pin him with a glare that promises death, and my power swells beneath the surface, just out of reach. Over his shoulder, Isolde watches me. Blood has splattered onto her face, and a single tear falls from her eyes, trailing down her cheek.
Caelus shakes me. “I said, do you understand?”
My exhale is like fire, and I blink my eyes, pulling away as if his words don’t singe my very core. “I understand.”
He releases me with a shove. Guards drag the bodies off the platform by their ankles, their arms dragging through their own blood.
“Good. Don’t forget your place, courtesan.” Caelus straightens the collar of his jacket. “Isolde, come.”
He stalks down the platform.
“Are you okay?” I whisper—the first words I’ve said to her since the night in the hallway.
Isolde releases a shaky breath and opens her mouth, but she clamps it shut and swallows, following Caelus through the crowd. I should chase her, but my feet stay rooted to the spot as I watch the executed bodies disappear from the courtyard.
Those people so fearlessly honored me, knowing death was a certainty if caught. Yet none of them shed a tear when they met their end. No, they held their heads high while I stood back and watched.
A coward.
My vision tunnels to the fresh blood on the platform. Blood that was spilled because of me.
Bile rises in my throat. I’ve failed them.
Grabbing the rail, I stumble down the steps. I have to get Thea to safety and focus on winning the competition and—
Arms envelope me. I go for my dagger, but a familiar scent blankets me and soothes my racing thoughts.
“I’ve got you,” Kressa whispers, pulling me into her chest.
Tears stream down my face, and I slump into her. Her hand runs down the length of my hair, and her heart beats a steady, calming rhythm. My fists unravel, fingers finding the fabric of her shirt.
“I didn’t save them,” I whisper against her chest.
“Even if you tried to, I would’ve stopped you. I would’ve cleared that platform myself to stop you from doing whatever you were planning.”
“Why? Because I’m your ticket to getting information on Caelus?” I will my words to bite, but they fall short—breathy and weak. “Because, without me, you won’t be able to find Elias?”
She leans back and cups my face, eyes fierce. “Because I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
My lips part, and I search her face—the concern etched between her brows, the bob of her throat.
Her thumb trails lightly over the welt. “I’m going to kill him for this.”
The courtyard clears of everyone but the two of us and the long wooden platform at my back. Sunlight crests over the castle walls, bathing us in gold. But its warmth doesn’t seep into my skin. Only Kressa’s does.
She lowers her forehead to mine, and my power crawls to her, pulling against its short chain. It’s there, swirling and alive, but shackled down. Everything I am, bound to a curse.
I lift my gaze to hers. “Why does my power want you so badly?”
The words slip out unprovoked and saturate the sliver of air between us.
Her teeth skim her lower lip. “I’ve been wondering the same thing.”
“It’s never reacted this way to anyone before.”
“Mine either.” She breaks our embrace and holds me at arm’s length. “I don’t need your help anymore. I refuse to force you into something you don’t want to do, so I’m breaking our agreement.”
My breath hitches. I should be relieved, yet her words twist my stomach, stifling my power. This connection must mean something, or it wouldn’t react to her the way it does. And my heart—well, my heart doesn’t know what it wants.
I lower my eyes and nod.
When I look up, she’s gone.