Chapter 30
Lilias
TELL ME
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Anura just shakes her head. We’re in the garden, sitting next to the big fountain with the fox on top.
The light spilling from the colorful windows on the second floor barely reaches this little clearing.
I walked all the way around this little clearing before we sat down, making sure we were alone.
Some part of me realized that’s a trick I learned from the snake, making sure no one is watching from the shadows. Gods, it must be exhausting to live like that.
Maybe that’s why he prefers the brothel.
“No, I understand,” Anura finally says. “I’ll do it. I’ll tell him not to come.”
She sits up straighter and wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve.
“I miss him too,” I say. I can’t stand the look in her eyes, so I turn to stare at my own fingers as they twist in my lap. “I’m sorry we’re not together now. I’m sorry you had to come to this horrible place.”
The vehemence in my voice stops me. I’m supposed to hide my feelings, damn it. No wonder my father said I should have been born a milkmaid.
Anura laughs softly. Her hand closes over mine.
“It was my idea to come,” she says.
I stare at her. She’s smiling, even though her eyes are sad.
“Elrick was worried about you,” she continues. “I was, too. I mean, that was part of it.”
Her smile twists, hardening into a frown. I get the sense she’s weighing her next words carefully.
“Tell me,” I whisper. “Please.”
There’s a sharp edge to my words. I know my brother and Anura are close, but I had no idea they were planning behind my back. Gods, does this mean I was a pawn in another set of plans?
Anura pulls herself up straighter. Her hand tightens on mine.
“He doesn’t trust Vsenrog,” she whispers. “The wedding was too fast, and they don’t have enough to gain from this. At first, I thought maybe Zarek had gotten the wrong woman pregnant and needed to be tied down.”
I snort. That’s so much like what Zarek thought about me that it’s almost funny.
“They want the mine,” I say, although, even as the words come out, I wonder if it’s the truth. It seems too obvious, somehow. Too easy.
Anura nods. Her face is in shadows.
“Of course they do,” she says. “But why? And why right now? And is that all they want?”
I sigh, then let my shoulders curl forward as I stare at the ground. Beneath my feet, a few rocks catch the light from the windows and wink from the dark.
“And—” Anura begins, then hesitates.
I turn to look at her. She’s staring at the bushes like she’s embarrassed.
“We heard something about a weapon,” she says in a whisper. “And a man named Fyrris.”
“What?”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t make any sense. I thought I’d be able to learn more here, but if anyone in this place knows anything about Fyrris or a weapon, they aren’t talking.”
There’s an edge of bitterness in her voice, like she’s disappointed in herself. I reach for her hand and squeeze it, trying to show her that she hasn’t let anyone down.
“I wish you’d told me,” I say. “Maybe I could have helped.”
Anura’s dress rustles as she shifts on the stone bench. She makes a strange noise, almost like she started to say something and then stopped.
“Me too,” she finally says. “But I thought you were dealing with enough, having to marry the snake.”
“He’s not—” I begin, then snap my mouth shut.
Anura stares at me. I cover my face with my hands, wondering how exactly I would have finished that sentence.
So far, the snake of Vsenrog is exactly what I was expecting. He’s suspicious of everything, he trusts no one, and hells, he really does have a dagger strapped to the inside of his thigh.
And he told me he would be honest with me. He laughed when I got drunk in a shitty pub with him. He held my arm as we walked through town.
He protected me, some colder part of my mind whispers. When my husband found Blayne in our bedroom with his pants down around his ankles, he could have had me executed. Gods, if Malrik wants the mine so badly, the snake could have used my infidelity to start a war with Marion.
I swallow hard in the dark. The night suddenly feels much colder.
What I did with Blayne never felt serious before.
It was playing and teasing, even when he was thrusting inside me or making me drink that horrible tea.
And the stories about what happened to women who lost their innocence seemed like far-off fairy tales, as if the consequences were as real as unicorns.
But now, the truth of what I’ve done hits me in a way it never did before.
My brother sent Anura with me because he didn’t trust Vsenrog, she said. Or was it because he knew what I’d done?
I remember Zarek telling me he’d heard the rumors, and suddenly, the back of my throat tastes bitter.
“Did you have a plan?” I whisper. My voice sounds like it’s coming from very far away. “On the wedding night. If things— If they didn’t go well?”
Anura’s hand squeezes my arm. “Of course,” she says.
I force myself to swallow. “What was it?”
Anura shifts on the bench. I straighten, turning toward her as she looks away.
“What was it?” I ask again.
Anura waves her hand in the dark, like it doesn’t matter.
“I had some ox blood,” she admits. “I came into the room after he left. You were asleep. But I could tell I didn’t need it.”
She sounds relieved. I feel like I’m going to throw up. Did the entire godsdamned castle know about Blayne and me? Is that why she gave me the painkilling drugs? So I’d be unconscious if she needed to spill ox blood on the sheets?
“What if that…hadn’t been enough?” I ask.
Anura sighs. She looks up at the lonely stars dancing in the sky, then back at me.
“Do you remember the hunting cabin?” she asks. “The one that was a wedding present for your mother?”
My eyes sting, and I blink. Of course I remember that cabin. It’s near the new mine, but that’s not why thinking about it makes my chest ache.
I used to love going there, to the retreat tucked into the western mountains just above the headwaters of the Marion River.
Elrick, Anura, and I would run through the woods like wild animals when we visited that cabin, drinking from mountain streams, eating wild berries, and collapsing in a pile on the wooden bunks at night.
The last time we went, we discovered clay in the riverbed and spent all day making little pots. I’d been old enough to know the mud on my clothes would be a problem, and I hid behind the woodpile when it was time for dinner.
They found me, of course. Elrick tried to stop my father. One of the guards held him back as my father took off his belt to hit me.
We didn’t go back to the cabin after that. I thought it was abandoned.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I remember.”
“That’s our meeting place,” Anura says. “If things go wrong.”
She falls silent. The sound of music drifts out of some secret place in the palace, weaving with the gentle splash of the fountain and the rustle of fresh leaves.
If things go wrong, she said. Not if they went wrong on my wedding night. If they still go wrong.
I tilt my head to stare at the stars. The castle of Marion was never this beautiful.
Half of it was closed off, the rooms filled with moldering furniture, wind whistling through the windows’ empty panes.
Even the parts we lived in were cold and quiet.
I remember feeling jealous of Anura and the cozy room she shared with her mother in the servants’ quarters.
Still, I felt safe in Marion.
I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe here.