Chapter 43 Braxton
Braxton
I didn’t know what to expect when I came rounding the corner after hearing the commotion coming from Azalea’s room, but seeing a bleeding and battered Gravesley threatening an equally bruised Azalea was not even close to what I imagined.
“You’re going to pay for this,” I hear him spit before he strikes her across the cheek with the back of his hand.
Everything in me stills, and then murderous wrath consumes the little bit of soul I have left.
I don’t feel in control of my body as I stalk toward my newfound prey.
He’s completely oblivious to me as I swiftly advance toward him, draw my sword from its sheath, and, with one fluid strike, cut the hand that dared to touch my Azalea clean from his body.
“And you’re going to die for that,” I growl.
Gravesley’s eyes bulge from their sockets, and a rasped cry bursts from his lungs as he watches his hand drop to the ground with a dull thud.
The old man recovers faster than I anticipated, dropping his grip on Azalea before snatching the dagger I didn’t notice from his belt and plunging it into my side.
“You weren’t supposed to get involved.” There’s a hint of anguish in his voice as he speaks that leaves me puzzled. “She won’t like that I hurt you, but she’ll have to understand I didn’t have a choice.”
He is unnaturally strong and nimble for his age, and I wince as the blade slices clean through my skin and muscle, lodging somewhere between my ribs. I’ve seen this man barely be able to go up a flight of stairs, which I’m now realizing must have all been a charade.
“Who are you?” I ask, a metallic tang filling my mouth. That’s probably not a great sign.
“Dianthus may have believed you were going to lose this curse, but I needed to make certain of it. Then, she’ll notice me. Then, she’ll love me. I’ve been her… security in making sure the curse was fulfilled.”
He sounds like a lunatic. Not giving me a chance to respond, or really even process what he revealed to me, he twists the blade in my side, and a newfound pain explodes through my body, causing me to fall to my knees.
My sword falls numbly from my hands, and I hear it skitter across the floor as Gravesley kicks it far away.
I look over, sure that he has to be feeling at least mildly dizzy from the blood loss of losing his hand, and am horrified to see that the little stump isn’t bleeding; in fact, it looks as if it somehow has been cared for to start healing. His eyes track my movement, and he gives me a twisted grin.
“Oh, this? Dianthus put in a few extra measures to keep me safe. Do you like it?”
My brows pull together as I track the bloodied bandage on the hand I chopped off, as well as the blood on his nose. His eyes bore into me, studying me.
“The magic is only for severe or deadly wounds. It would seem rather suspicious if I were to say, get a paper cut that never starts bleeding,” he continues to explain, and I hate how easily he’s reading my confusion.
I grunt again. The metallic taste is becoming more potent, and I feel it mixing in with the saliva in my mouth.
So many things are clicking into place now.
Why he looked like he was aging, exactly like Dianthus has been.
It’s because he must be tied to her magic.
He’s here as a part of the curse, not trapped here because of the curse.
Dianthus must have muddled my memory to make me believe he was always a member of my staff.
“So you’re her little lap dog?” I wheeze.
He snarls at me, baring his teeth animalistically. “I’m not a little lap dog. Do you think she would ask just anyone to keep an eye on you?”
“Okay, so you’re a very good lap dog” I flash him an insincere smile, and he twists the knife deeper into my side. My smile quickly vanishes, and I cry out as the pain becomes too much.
“You’re so vapid. I barely had to hide my identity.
You never questioned me. Not when I conveniently put books back on the library shelves that you told me to burn.
Not when I suggested you tell Azalea about your curse even though it could have caused the curse to restart.
Dianthus barely had to alter your memory when we started all of this.
You were too obtuse to put together what was happening right under your nose. ”
“But the curse didn’t restart… after… I… told her,” I pant.
I see Azalea slipping away in my peripheral vision, and I feel a sense of relief wash over me.
Good job, Wildflower. Get away.
“That was unfortunate. It should have, but as you’ve been so keen to notice, things have been a little off.”
I desperately want to watch Azalea as she scoots further away from Gravesley, but I don’t want to draw attention to her.
I can tell she’s moving in the direction of Luna, and I really wish she would just leave the damn dog and run.
Gravesley interrupts my thoughts by continuing his rambling monologue.
“Come on, haven’t you ever wondered who slipped the idea to Rhoden to get Azalea even looking into the curse?
Who planted the seed of suggestion for her to get close to you simply to make it more painful for you when her hatred continued to burn inside her?
Who waited until you were back from your parole and showering to let one of the guards know that Azalea was snooping through your study, so she would have to be brought to your room where you hide all the details of your curse. ”
I desperately hope that Azalea can’t hear what he’s saying. If I make it out of this alive, I would like to keep my last chance in breaking this curse.
“Wow, you must be obsessed with me.” I breathe past the pain trying to keep my chest from moving more than necessary for me to inhale and exhale.
I’m becoming more confident that I’m going to die here, bleeding out while Gravesley watches.
A part of me knows I need to drag this out to give Azalea more time to escape.
I don’t know what will happen with the curse if I die, but I hope Azalea will be able to leave the castle.
She always loved to travel. Gravesley curls his lip at me, but doesn’t play into the bait with a response.
Black is starting to creep into the edges of my vision, but I need to push through it.
“So what will Dianthus say about you killing me? After all, I’m pretty sure I’m her favorite toy.”
Gravesley rolls his eyes with a scoff. “You’re nothing to her.”
“You wound me.” I dramatically clutch my chest.
He yanks the dagger free, and I feel a rivulet of blood seep into my shirt.
“You don’t know pain. Not yet. Being stuck in this castle with you and your broody repetitive pity party about the curse has been torture, and I’ve had a century to dream up exactly how I would get back at you once I was freed.”
“Do your fucking worst,” I rasp out, trying to push past the pain clouding my vision.
“Oh, I will.”
“No, actually, you won’t.”
My eyes widen when I see Azalea stand tall behind Gravesley, right before she plunges my sword directly through his heart.
I watch in sick fascination as the malicious gleam in Gravesley’s eyes dims and dies out. His body slumps and Azalea releases the handle of the blade letting him fall to the ground.
“Holy fuck,” I fall onto my back, my hand applying pressure to the wound on my side that continues to ooze blood. “You killed him.”
Azalea is breathing heavy in front of me. “I did.”
I’m not sure how she was able to do that with the spell Dianthus put on him, and my only conclusion is that he wasn’t able to begin healing himself with the near instant fatality the wound caused. I silently count my lucky stars that Azalea went directly for the heart.
“You were supposed to run away and get yourself somewhere safe.” My tone is scolding and she plants her hands on her hips.
“You’re welcome,” she bites back, and I can’t help but smirk. Accompanied by an eye roll, she reaches forward and helps me sit up before throwing one of my arms over her shoulder and bringing me to stand.
“I didn’t think you actually had it in you to kill someone. I figured if you did, you would’ve killed me a while ago.” My voice is weakening.
She shrugs. “He shouldn’t have touched my dog.”
Azalea turns a corner, and my brow furrows as my feet drag lazily in step with her. My strength depletes with each labored step, and it’s only further exasperated as I try to keep up with Azalea’s determined pace.
“Wait, where are we going?” I ask, trying to talk around the stinging ache in my side.
“To the infirmary,” she says sounding dumbfounded. “You’re bleeding all over the floor.”
“No.” Though I’m losing my strength with each step, my voice is firm. “I don’t know who we can trust.”
“Well, where do you suggest we go then to keep you from bleeding out.”
“My study.” I know it’s the only place I can lock us in and figure out what just happened.
“Fine,” Azalea grunts. “But if you die it’s not my fault.”
“Deal.”
“So does this mean you trust me?” she asks.
“You very well might be the only person in this castle I can trust. Does this mean you trust me?”
She smiles at me, and without missing a beat says, “Not even a little.” But her words don’t hold their usual bite.