Reshina
Arthur held my hand through the long corridors leading to the library.
I pointed out the two tapestries I’d uncovered in the room where we’d kept the Underfae before setting her free back down the western corridor.
I noted that with Piffle’s hard work carefully cleaning the fibers, the colors brought a vibrance and warmth to the halls.
He nodded, squeezing my hand as I made him stop at each one, pointing out the patterns and design I thought he’d appreciate.
“If you look here,” I said, pulling him closer. “You’ll see that words have been woven into this one. It’s a language I don’t recognize, but I expect you to have discovered it by my return.”
He bent forward, squinting and brushing his fingers over dark fibers. “It’s Céaduah. The language of the Changlingfae, uncommon outside of the Citrine Cliffs.”
I sighed inwardly, having expected it to take him longer to figure it out.
I had planned a few tasks for him while I was away—some I left as secret notes in the books he’d read.
Some I had told only to Piffle to spring upon him when he seemed at the edge of despair.
I was well aware the language was Céaduah.
Just as I was aware that I was second guessing this plan to the fullest degree.
The words were on my tongue to seek another way to reach Ishtak for help when the pull of violin strings sounded ahead.
“What is that?” I whispered.
“I think you mean who.”
We followed the music to the library doors, propped open with a golden violin hovering mid-air. Two black eyes and a wide smile bloomed at the base of the instrument.
Arthur pulled me into the middle of the room. The couches and chairs had been moved aside, creating a wide open floor.
“Dance with me?” he whispered in my ear, pulling on the dip of my back, taking my right hand into his left.
Every inch of me screamed to stay. To pull his mouth to mine, to give into this threaded desire between us. Arthur was the want I’d denied myself time and again throughout my life. He represented everything I shoved away, choosing duty and title before anything else.
Stay, my fingers urged, threading through his.
Stay, my lungs breathed as he pulled my chest closer.
Stay, my feet begged as we spun in slow circles to the timing of the music.
The venom in my pocket hung heavily with the weight of what I felt I must do and how easy it would be to toss it in the fire instead.
I swallowed my guilt. “Arthur, I—”
His mouth slid over the marks on my neck, and I turned my head in blissful pleasure, saying goodbye to what could have been.
But I would return to this castle and save its king. That I could promise myself. That could keep me from tossing the vial of venom into the fire.
His mouth traveled up my neck, leaving soft, scraping teeth. I pulled back to see him fighting with the Beast. His hands were claws around mine. His face edged toward something animal—a monstrous creature I’d grown fond of.
“He’s fighting you,” I whispered.
“He’s aware of what we’re about to do. I can hold him. But I need you to begin.”
I nodded solemnly. Taking the small dagger from his claws, I cut deeply along his forearm. He didn’t even flinch at the wound, refusing to look away as I pulled the full vial of venom from my pocket.
I heard the shift from Piffle, standing at the ready to help Arthur eventually recover from the poison. I uncorked the vial, determined not to shake, hovering the contents over the blood seeping from his wound.
He lifted my chin with a claw. “Do not return. Leave me behind forever, but do not go without leaving me something sweet upon my lips.”
Before I could choose the path I wanted, I lifted to my toes, kissing him hard and emptying the contents of the vial across the open skin of the King of Heartstone Castle.