Chapter 12 #3
“He violated not only me, but every girl reaped in my year. I will never forget the feel of his cold hands on my … on …” she trailed off angrily, blinking back tears.
Vession? Was she sure?
“It is not in Vession’s character to … assault girls,” I protested, not wanting to antagonize her by calling her a liar, but still wanting more information.
Her face twisted, lips curling into a sneer as her shoulders tightened. Her hands clenched the shiny fabric of her dress, uncaring how it creased.
“He forced us to lie down on a stone table in a dungeon, spread our legs, then touched us there. If we didn’t, we were dragged away by Fireguards. If he found something he didn’t like, we were dragged away by Fireguards. What the fuck would you call that, if not assault?”
Shava was angry enough to attack Vession. The idea itself was … titillating. I wanted to see Shava fight. I wanted to see her angry.
“But he didn’t hurt you?” I questioned, wanting deeply to understand.
“How about I tie you down, rip off your pants, and slap your cock around? And if I don’t like it, have Fireguards take you away and kill you?” she fired back, eyes blazing.
It wasn’t an appropriate reaction, but I couldn’t help the grin that split my face.
“Feel free?—”
“You’re fucking rude.”
I snapped back to reality, frowning. “Pardon. How am I rude?”
Shava’s eyes narrowed. “Your name . Even in the mud quarter people who are meeting for the first time exchange names.”
Had I not introduced myself? I was sure I had.
“Zephyr,” I intoned.
Those lips thinned into an angry line, then opened into a pout.
“Oh, that is your name,” she said softly, more to herself than me.
An important detail about the other mud boys came to the forefront of my mind.
“Mud boys have letter names, is that right? Did you think I was a mud boy?” I asked, genuinely curious.
She bristled at this, as though gearing up for a fight.
“You look like a mud boy, just with nicer clothes,” she fired back.
I refused to rise to her fervor. Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest and stood there, smiling at her.
“Getting along well?”
My irritation rose as Vession inserted himself between us. Yet if my mood soured, it was nothing to the storm gathering in Shava’s eyes. She went red as Vession stood next to her, equal parts rage and fear breaking over her face.
Before anyone could react she launched herself at him.
For a moment, I didn’t help; I’ll admit it.
Watching Shava throw herself at Vession and take him to the ground was alluring and thrilling in a way I’d never felt before, not even with Clover.
I wanted to watch and revel in the chaos and …
bad manners of it all. She straddled him with her own dress hiked around her waist, uncaring of etiquette or propriety as she methodically reduced his face to the consistency of beaten meat, one strong punch at a time.
“Shava! Stop!” I grabbed her around the waist and yanked her back. Or I tried to.
The woman was solid despite her slimness, all lithe muscles belying the hidden strength in her figure.
“Hey! You there!”
I blinked, jolted back to myself as the Fireguards came running. While entertaining, the consequences of her actions were quickly approaching. I bent down and grabbed her shoulder, trying to get her to stop.
“Stop! Shava! The Fireguards?—”
She either didn’t hear me through her frenzy, or didn’t care. It was like talking to a wall. I needed to figure this out, or she’d be executed before I barely knew her!
I couldn’t have that.
“There!”
Two Fireguards finally fought their way through the thickening crowd, excited to see some free entertainment. Neither were L. Where had he been lately?
“Let me help you,” I muttered to the one Fireguard, one I didn’t know well, but at least I knew him. He didn’t protest as I helped him pry Shava off of Vession, and drag her out of the room while waving the other Fireguards away .
“Stay and help Lord Vession. Get him to the healers,” the Fireguard ordered them. I spared a guilty glance to Vession, who lay bleeding on that floor. I had been so concerned about keeping Shava from execution I’d forgotten it was his ass being beaten.
“Come on. Side room,” I suggested to the Fireguard. Vession would be fine—there were already three Fireguards half-carrying him out of the ballroom and down towards the infirmary.
The Fireguard shook his head, tightening his grip on Shava, who tried to spit in his face as she continued to thrash.
“I can’t help you here, Z,” he cautioned. “It was too public. She’s gotta go straight to the queen.”
I pulled on Shava, unconsciously trying to yank her the other way— away from the queen. L would have helped me. He would have understood.
“Z, don’t do this. I know you’ve been trying to lie low. Fighting this is the opposite of that,” the Fireguard warned me. “Do you want to be like L, exiled to work in the mud quarter for helping you?”
Is that what happened to him?
Shava’s foot lashed out and kicked me in my shin. I let go of her in surprise, standing in the corridor like a simpleton while the Fireguard pinned both of her hands behind her back and hustled her away.
I stared at nothing, my hands held out in front of me.
What was I doing?
For months I’d planned and plotted my strategies, and today I’d nearly thrown it all away, and for what? Some slip of a mud girl who didn’t even want to breathe the same air as I?
You’re well on your way to start writing your own poetry and joining the ranks of the besotted, dusty fools whose pathetic scribbles line the archives.
No. I wouldn’t be writing poetry to Yucca anytime soon. Time to stop thinking with my—Well, anyway.
A crowd was growing, filtering from the ballroom out into the corridor and down towards the throne room. They knew what was coming.
An uncomfortable lump swelled in my throat. I didn’t like feeling like this. I didn’t enjoy caring. Caring only led to loss and heartache. I needed neither.
I slipped into the seething masses and let them sweep me away down into the throne room, which was quickly growing crowded.
I elbowed my way towards the front, to see Shava on her knees in front of the queen, hands pinned behind her back by the Fireguard, and another sat on the back of her legs.
Blood dripped down her chin from a split lip, and fire burned in her eyes.
Need and fire bloomed in veins, my bloodmagick sparking gold along my skin.
Hold it down. Not here. Don’t play your hand so early.
“What do we have here?” The queen descended the dais from her throne, in a dress of midnight today, setting off her silver hair like a beacon of moonlight. Her preferred white diamonds glittered at her throat and wrists, emphasizing the silver of her eyes.
Her smile, as always, was pure poison.
“Ah yes, you . I’m surprised you’re still alive. All your little friends are dead, aren’t they?”
Shava writhed and twisted like a feral thing, but the Fireguard was much bigger and had her pinned solidly.
The queen stopped a few paces in front of Shava with that awful shit-eating grin.
I’d like to think the queen had learned her lesson from me about getting too close to those you were insulting.
How confident would the queen act without her Fireguards around her?
Shava would eat her up and spit her out.
I grinned at the thought of both of them going at it, and certain parts of my anatomy twitched.
Dear gods.
“I knew your true nature would show itself, eventually. You must be thrilled,” the queen trilled, baring her teeth as she smiled.
“Anything that takes me away from you is welcome, even death,” Shava sneered back, spitting at the queen’s feet.
Did she mean that or was it simply bravado? I was impressed, either way.
The queen crossed her arms over her chest, sharp black fingernails digging into the skin of her own upper arms.
“What a joyous day for you to finally be reunited with your little mud friends,” she drawled. “Send her to the dragon!”
The crowd roared its approval as two Fireguards yanked Shava up and began dragging her away.
“All of you are invited to watch from the east balcony, which should give you a clear view of what happens to those who are unworthy of my court!”
Fuck, shit on a stick.
I went the same way as the crowd to avoid sticking out, but at the first opportunity I ducked out and ran through the castle as fast as I could, knowing I had to get up on the dome before the Fireguards and the queen reached the latch.
The south parapet was the most direct path.
Left turn, right turn, up the spiral staircases. Gods, when I ruled the world I’d build a castle without a single damned spiral staircase! Ramps were better!
Up and up …
Down the corridor. Keep breathing!
I burst out through the archway, the gap between the dome and the open air my only focus. There were enough notches and breaks in the crumbling stonework, allowing for hand and footholds. Adrenaline fueled me as I quickly scaled the parapet, ending only a few feet from the lip of the dome.
I eyed the distance warily. It was maybe four to five feet of open space. If I missed or could not hang onto the lip, the fall would definitely kill me. I was resistant to heat thanks to my rituals. I was not resistant to every bone in my body shattering.
My eyes closed as I breathed deeply, weighing the risks and rewards.
Cold realization froze the blood in my veins.
What was I doing? I was a few feet away from killing myself, and for what? For this slip of a girl who filled me with lust? If I needed to dip my wick, there was an entire kitchen full of simpering girls who would see to my needs.
You don’t want them. Not like you want her. It’s too easy with the others.
Fuck.
Walk away. She chose her fate.
I tried to rationalize the myriad of emotions rattling through me.
This just wasn’t some lovesick attempt to save Shava—it was an opportunity to piss off the queen and hurt her credibility with her people, while letting her know I was a major player who wouldn’t go away so easily.
How frightening would it be to see someone you thought you’d killed not only alive but also influencing your biggest weapon on the same day?
Yes, that was it. I was doing this as part of my plan for revenge against the queen. That was always worth the risk. I certainly didn’t care for a stupid girl right after meeting her. That was madness.
Are you sure?
I weighed my options. I could drop back to the parapet and go back to my room, and keep working on my next ritual.
I’d ignore the thrill that’d gone through me at finding a strong, fierce woman who wasn’t the queen.
I’d give up my opportunity to take and make my own decisions for once; to strike out on offense instead of constantly playing defense.
Stop waffling. Pick a direction and go.
I leaped.