Chapter Thirty-Five
VIOLET
I hurry down the path toward the gate to the Central Court with Bear at my side.
I can’t quite run. The muscles in my legs are tired—weaker than I’m used to.
It would be easy to play it off as a side effect of the drink or from sitting for so long, but I can no longer ignore the way it has gradually crept up over the past several months.
Will Joon and I break the curse before I die? Or will this traitorous heart give out on me first?
No, I admonish inwardly. I cannot allow myself to think like that. I can’t give up now. We have to break it. For my family, for Arum… for him.
The gate to the Western Court is partially open when I reach it. Bear squeezes through first then motions for me to follow. As I step in the direction of the Temple Tower, the demon pulls on my skirt. Trusting their judgment, I allow them to tug me along the path behind it that runs parallel.
We enter one of the enclosed walkways. The route is darker and longer, but as long as the shield remains, it’s safer.
Outside, the guards’ shouts clash against the howls from the wild demons they battle. I can’t fight my unease as the eerie din echoes in the otherwise abandoned passage.
Bear dashes behind a nearby corner to hide as the strong and steady gait of heavy footsteps approaches. I slow, waiting to see who it is.
King Sameun enters the junction at the far end, where another hall runs perpendicular. He spots me and changes direction. He is nearly as relieved as I am to see a familiar face.
“Your Majesty, what are you doing here? You should be in the Temple Tower,” I say.
“I came looking for you when everyone from the Northern court made it to the tower except you.”
He is alone.
“Where are your guards?”
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes in such a somber moment. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself. My people are more in need of their protection.”
Belatedly, I realize Bear isn’t hiding under the cover of my skirt as usual. I hope they will be safe wherever they hide. They might be small, but they are still a demon.
A loud crash in the distance shakes the ground.
“Come, we must hurry.” The king reaches out and hooks our arms, leading me the way he came. “Joon asked me to find you.”
Even though he isn’t looking at me while he speaks, I nod in response. When my mind finally catches up, I realize we’ve taken the long corridor along the northern wall of the Central Court and have passed the Temple Tower.
“Where are we going?”
The king sends a quick glance over his shoulder. “To the Eastern Court. It will be safer for us there.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he knows what I’m thinking before I can get the breath to speak it.
“There is not enough room for everyone. It was meant as a safeguard for the royal family and the officials.”
We make the rest of our trek in silence, the king holding onto me the entire way. At every crash and breaking of wood or stone, he pauses to listen.
Once or twice, I think I see a movement out of the corner of my eye, or hear a faint whisper close behind, but when I look, there’s nothing there. My imagination is running wild, conjuring up images of demons that lurk within every shadow, preparing to pounce.
The Eastern Court is quiet. The shield overhead shimmers with the strength of its hold. Yet everything within is in disrepair from years of neglect.
Once manicured plants are now overgrown, taking over paths and lawns.
Vines and branches tangle together as they vie for the same spaces.
The wooden structures are cracked and splintered, with some support pieces in the process of collapse.
Their painted surfaces have weathered and faded, leaving a ghost of their former beauty behind as they decay.
The sounds of fighting continue to fade as we gain distance. Still, the king doesn’t release me until we’re inside the old hall, and the door is shut securely behind us.
I release the tension that’s taken up residence in my upper back, leaving my muscles aching.
“Follow me,” he says, motioning with his hand as he walks quickly down the corridor.
I hurry to keep up, not wanting to fall behind in this unfamiliar place.
There is a distinct lack of voices and light in the room ahead. And when the king slides the door open, my suspicion that we are the only ones here is confirmed.
A shiver passes over me. “Is there no one else?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
“More are coming. It won’t be easy for them to get out of the Central Court with all the barriers down.” The full volume of the king’s voice is a stark contrast for the last fifteen minutes.
He crosses to a dark shape on the wall. With a slight flick of his wrist, metal and stone scrape, causing an unseen chain reaction.
Lights burst to life, trailing from where he stands and spreading out through the massive throne room.
A thick layer of dust coats the two wide thrones perched atop a low dais, and the wide runner cutting the room in half from the door to the bottom of the steps.
Not quite sure what to do with myself while we wait, I wander closer to the dais.
Beneath the layer of neglect, it’s easy to tell that the throne room in the Central Court is nearly an exact copy.
But where the other has harsh edges that mimic the shapes of ice crystals, this one has softer, rounded lines like that of curling wisps of frost or mounds of freshly fallen snow smoothed over by a gentle wind.
“I would like to offer you my sincerest apologies for what happened during your trial.”
The strong resonance of his voice, much closer than before, startles me. I whirl around and find the king barely more than an arm’s length away. I hadn’t heard him approach.
“Minister Ilseong had been a long-trusted advisor. He has never failed me before. I did not think him capable of betrayal.” He gazes at me serenely. “I do hope you will forgive me.”
I swallow thickly. The role the king played that day is something I have tried not to think about.
It chills my blood to remember how he was all too willing to let that Minister kill me in front of the entire court without so much as an opportunity to defend myself.
Joon’s intervention is the reason I’m standing here now.
He might be asking for my forgiveness, but he is still a king, and I don’t see that there is much of a choice here. Though if it means making sure our future interactions are not strained, then I don’t see a reason to hold a grudge.
“Of course, Your Majesty. You were only looking out for your people.” Before I can stop myself, I add, “I am only glad the misunderstanding was cleared up before it was too late.”
He hums, glancing around the room in mild curiosity. “Are you nervous about your upcoming presentation?”
Again, he takes me off guard. Making small talk at a time like this feels a bit odd. The king is not concerned about the demons infiltrating the palace grounds in the slightest.
“A little,” I say, not wanting to come off as arrogant. “I don’t want to be an embarrassment.”
Other than my lessons with Iseul, I have not given it any thought. Mostly because Joon and I are so close to ending this curse, and I want to believe we will succeed before then.
My heart flutters as a light pressure tightens around it. The sensation isn’t painful, yet it has persisted since this afternoon.
“I’ve heard you have not been feeling well lately,” he says.
I blink uncertainly, worried he found out the truth of my condition. He nods to my chest. My hand stills over my heart, where I was absentmindedly rubbing the ache.
I lower my hand to my side and clear my throat. “I am well. It’s just a habit I have when there’s a lot on my mind.”
The ground shakes with another loud crash, rattling the chandelier above us, and letting us know the fight continues beyond the walls of this court. The king looks up, and the firelight flashes in his eyes, making them appear to glow red for a brief second.
When he returns his gaze to me, it is the same shade of gray they’ve always been.
“There is something I would like to give you.”
The thought of the king gifting me with anything seems unnecessary, especially when I’ve done nothing to earn it.
He takes hold of my wrist before I can refuse, reaching into a pocket with his other hand. His thumb rests on my pulse point as he shoves a vial into my palm.
I curl my fingers around it, yet his grip on me remains.
“Have you been in the library again lately?”
“No,” I answer, unable to take my eyes off our hands. My breath stutters as a pulse cascades through my body, like a heartbeat that is a little too strong.
“I have never seen a human study so diligently on their own here. I must admit, my curiosity is piqued as to what it is you are hoping to learn.”
The longer I look at his grip on me, the stranger it feels. I try to tug my arm lightly, not enough to offend, but to bring it to his attention that he has yet to let go.
“The royal family line,” I say, the words flowing too freely from my lips. The unfiltered level of honesty stops me in my tracks. It was a truth I only intended to share with Joon for now. I haven’t even said as much to Iseul yet.
The strong hand wrapped around my wrist is distracting, but that alone isn’t enough to explain the slip of my tongue. Perhaps the soft haze of alcohol in my system is having a stronger effect on me than I first thought.
Slowly, I drag my gaze up to the king’s passive expression. As he watches me, his head lists slightly to the side. There is something unnatural about the movement, though I can’t put my finger on it.
I pull harder on my hand, but his grip only tightens.
Another pulse surges through me in panic. My heartbeat quickens, becoming a sharp beat, striking against its cage of bone.
“You look pale, Lady Violet. I meant this draught to fortify you for your presentation, but the excitement of the night has taken a toll on you. Perhaps you ought to take it now. It will make you feel better.”