57. Enna
Chapter fifty-seven
Enna
I tell him everything. I lay my soul, my past, my sins bare. Every bloody detail. And still, he wraps me in a warm towel and holds me close, unafraid of the monster lurking within me. He wraps his arm around my waist, tucking me into his side, and we sit on his balcony to watch the sunset. I’ll never deserve him, this kind, cocky prince.
The city below rustles with evening activity. Merfolk strolls the beach. Vendors pack up their booths. Birds chirp from their perches among the abodes, singing one last tribute to the sun.
We sit on a blanket, complete with a dinner spread from the kitchen. The baskets of fruit and bread and plates of fish tempt me with their warm aroma, but my stomach twists in revulsion. Beyond the railing, the faint outline of Audrina’s face peeks over the horizon, preparing to ascend.
“Front-row seat,” Soren says, nodding to the full moon. He picks up a roll of bread and picks it apart with his fingers.
I tuck my towel tighter around me and hug my knees. Ever since we finished our bath, I’ve had a sinking feeling in my stomach. The feeling that I’ve forgotten something, somehow. The breeze lifts the leaves on the twisting vine that climbs the palace wall, and I flinch.
Soren pauses, holding a half-eaten roll. “Something out there?”
I squint at the vine, searching for any unusual movement among the twitching green leaves. A stray petal drops from one of the pink blooms. “Nothing,” I say. “Just a funny feeling.”
He pulls me close, pressing a kiss to my hair. “She can’t hurt you anymore, Enna. She’s in the dungeon where she’ll rot until high tide, like you said.”
I pick a roll and separate the dough. The bread is buttery and warm on my tongue. I chew it slowly, letting the flavor wash through my mouth. “I want to see her die.”
“Of course you do, Wicked.” Soren chuckles, running a hand through his long, damp hair. “Tell you what. After dinner, we can visit her, and you can taunt her all you like until the goddess shows up.”
I smile into my bread. “I’d like that.” Earlier today, when I saw her alone, I went soft. I let her get into my head. With Soren at my side, I will be stronger. With my words, I will make her writhe.
“On one condition,” Soren adds. “I have something to show you. A detour on our way to watch the shit show.”
“It better be good.”
I eye him sideways, and a goofy grin plasters his face. “Oh, it will be dazzling.”
Whatever that means. We finish off the bread, half the lushfruit, and two whole sweetfish as the sun retreats into darkness.
With our bellies full and hearts warm, we start down the hallway. Soren reaches for my hand, and I thread my fingers through the gaps in his. Our palms brush, and he squeezes my hand. “A perfect fit,” he says.
We descend the stairs. Captain Nara rushes around the bend. Her maroon eyes are focused, her mouth set in a hard line. We skirt sideways to avoid a collision, and the mermaid stops short, grasping Soren’s arm.
“Your Highness!”
Soren steadies her with a hand to her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Nara shakes her head. “There’s been an accident. She’s dead. One of my soldiers found her in a pool of blood. Not ten minutes ago.”
Odissa, dead? The scales on my neck tingle. “Show me the body,” I say. I won’t believe it until I see the corpse, dead and dissolving. This could be an act, a ploy to lure the prince close enough to stab him.
The captain blinks at me in surprise, a smile curling the corners of her mouth.
Soren squeezes my hand. “You sure?”
“I’m not a helpless female, pretty prince.” I shoot him a dark look. “Show me the blood.”
The captain turns back the way she came and leads us through the darkening corridors. Sconces flicker with low flames, casting long shadows that stretch and dance as we walk past. The palace settles with a deathly silence, as if holding its breath before the scream.
“Clio was near the guest wing,” Nara whispers as we ascend the marble staircase.
The sickness in my stomach returns, twisting with renewed intuition. “Clio?” I whisper.
Nara nods. “That’s right. Poor thing.”
I trail my hand along the golden rail, walking the same path I’ve followed a hundred times. I can smell the blood from here, sharp and metallic. My pulse flutters in anticipation, loud in my ears.
Nara pushes open the door to the hallway. Odissa’s old room is the last door on the right. And outside it, face-first in a pool of blood, the housekeeper lies with a messy gash in her neck. Clio’s large blue ears, once fluttering with expression, droop lifelessly onto the floor. Her hand curls into a fist, save one finger, stretching to point toward the door.
She wasn’t an awful person. She was annoying and clingy, and she had a bad habit of disapproving everything I did, but she didn’t deserve to go like this. My throat tightens the longer I look at her.
How soft I’ve become .
“Nasty way to go.” The captain grunts. “May the gods accept her gladly.”
Soren murmurs something similar, his fists balling tightly at his sides.
I kneel next to the housekeeper’s body and ruffle through her wound, assessing the nature of the kill. No blade would leave a gash like this. Clio died by tooth and hand. The imprint of the killer’s round teeth surrounds the wound. The flesh is ragged and torn.
There’s nothing clean about this kill. I lean on my hand for support as I scan the hallway for signs of Odissa. That tricky little bitch. I should have known a cell would never hold her. She may look like a royal on the outside, but at her core, she’s just as much death-dealer as I am. And her clock is ticking.
“You’re not safe here.” I turn to Soren. He stares at the housekeeper with a blank expression.
“It was her, wasn’t it?”
I nod, fingering the flesh of Clio’s wound. “Odissa is messy. No one else would kill this way.”
“Right.” The captain lets out a hissing breath. “Your Highness, we must get you to safety.”