Chapter Thirty-Five #2
He means well, but his gift cannot stop or lessen an episode. I have tried countless draughts over the years, among other things, and the only thing that could ever stop them once they truly began is Joon’s magic.
My lips don’t even have time to form a sound before there is yet another pulse. As I open my mouth, I can feel the agreement on the edge of my tongue.
“I think I will… save it for the presentation,” I manage to get it out with some effort. “I am all right.”
The king’s fingers tighten. He tugs on me, and I stumble closer.
I gape at him for this strange change of demeanor. A sickening feeling twists my insides into knots.
He pins me with his narrowing stare. All kindness and pretense evaporate, as cold detachment takes its place, turning his features into hard lines. “There is something… off about you.”
This time, the pulse is strong and painful, striking me like a punch to the chest. There is no mistaking it for anything other than what it is. It is not an episode coming on due to the usual reasons, but one forced into being by this man’s powers.
He tilts his chin, the angle making the points of his ears appear like small horns. His eyes flash again—the red light coming from within, not the reflection of fire.
A cold smile spreads over his mouth as the king brings his face closer. Something dark edges his expression. “So that is where it is,” he murmurs, but not to me.
“Where what is?” My teeth chatter through my question.
He ignores me, continuing to speak to himself as though I’m not even here. “I was wondering how my nephew could keep a human heart from destroying itself.”
My throat tightens.
How does he know about my episodes? Joon wouldn’t have told him… would he?
“I don’t know what you’re saying.” I pull roughly on my arm, trying to get free and no longer caring if I offend him.
He blinks and finally seems to see me again.
“I suspected as much after I sent for you. You were weak. I needed to get you alone to know for certain. If we had not been interrupted, I could have put an end to this far sooner. A human with a heart condition should have ended up bedridden for weeks at a time—or dead. Yet, you always managed to find your feet as if it were nothing,” his voice rises in pitch, taking on a sinister glee.
I struggle to follow his line of thought as he continues to ramble vaguely.
Sent for me… interrupted… The episode in the throne room. That’s how he knows.
“I knew there was something strange about you!” he barks a sharp laugh. “But I never would have guessed this is how you did it! No wonder he has kept you so close all this time, doting on you as if he cared.”
“Let go—you’re hurting me.” I loathe how weak my voice sounds when I want to scream the words.
The king sends a violent pulse through me, releasing his grip.
Unbalanced, I stagger back. The vial slips through my fingers and shatters at my feet. Even as I hunch over, gasping for each pathetic breath I take, the urge to apologize is nearly automatic, but I bite it back.
He doesn’t seem to care as he nods toward the broken mess. “Would you like to know what it does?”
I don’t answer. Whatever was inside it is now ruined.
“It would have marked your life force for the Winter Dragon,” he goes on eagerly. “It is a pity you will not get the chance to share the same fate as the other women.” The king smirks. “You would have made a nice edition.”
“Why?” Even though I already know, I cannot help asking anyway.
“Unfortunately, it is necessary to put a stop to it before you ruin everything.” He stalks closer. “If you succumbed to the demons in that garden, then I would not have been forced to push him to present you to the court so soon.”
My heart squeezes. It steals the breath from my lungs and freezes my muscles. Spots bloom across my vision. The moment stretches endlessly as the shapes of things he hasn’t yet said hover just beyond my grasp as the full extent of his actions falls into place, one by one.
The king, seemingly oblivious to it all, continues to speak. “Minister Ilseong nearly succeeded, but who would have guessed the prince with the frozen heart would come to your rescue?”
Black veins pulse from his pupils, cutting through his irises and over the whites of his eyes as if poison in his blood spreads within.
“At first, I thought you were nothing more than another warm body for my nephew to use and discard… Who would have thought you would be his true weakness?”
His words are cruel. Meant to cut. To drive a wedge between Joon and me. Whether his words are true or not doesn’t matter, because beyond a brief moment of jealousy, I don’t care about Joon’s past. I never truly did.
I shake my head as I back up, trying to put distance between us, even as he follows.
The demon attack. The look of betrayal on Minister Ilseong’s face was because the accusation about the pearl had been the king’s idea.
“Tonight.” The word is barely a sound on my lips, but he catches it.
“Pity the Minister Yeona had to die. She was young, but she was shaping up to be one of the best Arum has ever seen.”
In my stunned silence, he closes the distance. His hand whips out, grabbing my hair. “If you had only left things alone, it would have dissolved with his death.” The king leans in. “Forgive me, but I cannot allow him to get that final shard from you.”
“I-I don’t have it.”
My mind is reeling, trying to process everything he’s said, amidst the agony racking my body.
He knows about the shards and the curse.
No…
The danger, the deaths, the attacks, the—
He didn’t try to kill me to keep Joon from breaking the curse—he wanted me dead because he is the one who created it.
“Oh, but you do.” He chuckles as he circles a finger, pointing at me, inching closer. “Right—” The king jabs my chest. “—in there.”
At the touch, a pulse of power zaps through me, as sharp and hot as lightning.
“If you die, the shard and the magic within dies with you, then the prince will at long last fall to the curse.”
Demon shit.
I have to stall. Soon Joon or Iseul or Bear or Mingi will realize I’m not where I should be—they will realize something is off.
“You… it was you.”
A smirk unfurls across his face, dripping with poison and condescension.
Black veins continue to spread, out from the corners of his eyes, down his cheeks, and neck.
My gaze is pulled from the grotesque markings to the area just over his shoulder as a dark shape rises up behind him. Two eyes, burn red like angry flames.
The demon hovers, body undulating in the air. Their shape is nearly identical to Imugi’s, but this one lacks the beautiful shimmering visage of winter come to life—they are the color of ash and rotting leaves with spiky scales.
I know precious little of the royal family’s connection with demons. But after what little time I’ve spent around Imugi and Bear, it is woefully clear that there is something very, very wrong with this demon and their bond with the interim king.
The world sways.
Hurry, Joon, I need you.
“How could you? He’s family.”
The king’s expression twists into a scowl. “He had everything—the crown, a bonded demon, and the future that rightfully belonged to me—but that wasn’t good enough. He took her, too,” he snarls.
Who is she?
Flecks of spittle fly from his mouth as he speaks. The veins continue to pulse just below his skin. “If she would not be mine, then I would take the throne. It was just a matter of ridding myself of those brats.”
I am grasping for breath now. My heart beats against its cage of bone like a blacksmith’s hammer. Dizziness churns my stomach—or maybe it’s the knowledge of everything this man has done.
My knees give out. Fire burns my scalp as I’m held aloft by my hair.
He took her, too.
I loved her first.
I don’t know the people he’s talking about, but I know the missing pieces he hasn’t said.
Could the story I found in the library be true? Everything fits… but how? Who would dare write it and then place it in the royal library?
If I can just get near the door, perhaps I can signal for help.
Gathering my rapidly fading strength, I manage to get my feet under me. I take a step back, then another. The king moves with me, hand still fisted in my hair.
The demon hisses, their burning eyes flash.
The king releases his grip with a rough jerk to the side. I stumble and take the opportunity to turn.
A large hand wraps around my neck and pulls me back. The king’s fingers tighten, clamping down with crushing force.
Sickening power rips through me as though shredding my flesh with razor talons, cutting into my neck, down to my chest, digging and clawing toward my heart. My vision goes dark.
Then the hand is gone. I fall backward, crashing into the wall, and collapsing to my hands and knees.
The king is still speaking, but I can’t understand him.
Pain far worse than anything I’ve known, doubles over on itself.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t scream.
Nothing can slow or stop this episode. Not even Joon’s power. I know without a doubt that this time, I will not recover.
As if summoned by that very thought, a vision of Joon emerges from the shadowed doorway. A hallucination. A dying dream to offer some semblance of comfort as my short life finally ends.
I can almost hear him call to me.
Joon doubles before my eyes. Two princes run toward me…
What had the king said?
…a matter of ridding myself of those brats.
I focus on the final word.
Brats.
The first son.
Realization hits me as I crumple to the floor.