33. Well, Well, If It Isn’t The Consequences Of My Own Actions
Stab. Stab. Stab.
I screwed up my face, tossing my head in an attempt to rid myself of the piercing pain in my neck. My efforts earned the sharpest throb yet, and my eyes snapped open as I cried out.
“Be still, Your Majesty. You’re safe now.”
A blurred figure hovered over me, and the stabbing pain resumed. The pain sharpened my focus, and a witch drifted into relief, dabbing my neck with a warm cloth.
Jacques.
The bite.
I bolted upright, knocking the witch’s cloth aside. The room immediately swirled, like colours mixing in a pot. Hands seized my shoulders, easing me back onto the soft pillow.
“You still have venom in your system, Your Majesty, and you suffered terrible blood loss. I’ve replenished you to a safe level, but you need to lie still until the bleeding stops.”
I was flat on my back in a strange bed, bare from the waist up but for my lacy, blood-stained bra.
“Where am I?” The brief glimpse of the room had revealed little, other than it being somewhere I didn’t recognise. I could barely bring myself to wonder what magical concoction of herbs was capable of replacing a blood transfusion.
“The sick ward. His Royal Highness is here too. He got to you in the nick of time.”
“Hello, Aliza.” Idris’ voice drifted from beside me. I blinked, turning my head. Pain speared down my neck and into my shoulder.
Sure enough, the prince occupied the bed beside me, his expression forlorn as he offered me the smallest of smiles. He too was shirtless, and as my eyes strayed to his god-like form, I found numerous nasty cuts and slices, still bleeding freely, peppering his body. Two more witches caught the rivers of blood with their cloths, pressing them to the wounds. Idris didn’t flinch as he stared at me.
I lifted my gaze to the ceiling.
“What happened?” I asked nobody in particular. I remembered some of it. I’d invited Jacques into the castle, all but forcing him to bite me in a moment of rage-induced madness. The witches couldn’t know that though. Nobody could.
“You were attacked by a vampire. His Royal Highness fought it off and brought you here. Unfortunately, the vampire got away, but we are conducting a thorough search.”
Did it count as an attack if I’d pushed for it? Not that I’d wanted him to take me to the point of collapse, but still. I couldn’t find it in myself to be angry at him. Not now that my mind had cleared, and I remembered all the reasons I had to be angry with the male whose eyes I could feel burning into the side of my face.
Biting back the pain, I rolled onto my side, away from Idris. I had nothing to say to the male who’d listened as I made a fool of myself. Who’d said, and continued to say, nothing. How long would he have gone along with his brother’s deception? Until the prophecy was fulfilled? Until Anwir fooled me into loving him? Married me? Fathered a child at my expense? Or would he have carried it to my graveside, holding his tongue even as dirt was thrown down on top of me? The precious Human Queen. Human sacrifice, more like.
Not that it mattered. I had never intended to stay that long, and after everything I’d heard, I wasn’t going to spend another night in this castle, surrounded by liars and users.
“Aliza!”
I jumped at the shrill voice calling my name, but my nurse pressed her hand to my shoulder again, keeping me still. Pansy hurtled around the end of my bed. Despite everything, my face softened into a smile.
“Hi.”
“Mother above, are you alright? I just heard. I can’t believe it.” She all but threw herself onto the bed beside me, her dark eyes widening as they took in the blood seeping from my neck. “Is that where…”
I nodded and was rewarded by a stab of pain shooting down my shoulder all the way to my fingertips.
“I heard Sage telling Granny that you’d been bled almost dry. I was expecting…”
She was expecting to find me as her mother had been. My heart squeezed tight, and I reached for her hand, biting back the pain of that small movement. “I’m fine. Sore, but fine.”
“You’ll feel much better after this,” the nurse said, brandishing a spoon at me.
I sat up awkwardly, accepting whatever magic potion they’d concocted this time. A magic potion that hadn’t been available to save Hyacinth, not that it would have prevented the renewed blood from pouring straight out her severed artery. It was enough to help me though, apparently. Despite Sage’s melodrama, Jacques couldn’t have done that much damage.
Pansy dropped her voice to the faintest whisper. “And Prince Idris saved you?”
My teeth clenched. I didn’t want to admit that I was yet again in his debt, not even to Pansy. I gave a terse nod.
“The vampire. Was it…”
I threw her a sheepish, imploring glance, silently pleading with her not to spill my secret. Of course she would know the truth of what had happened. What were the chances of some random vampire finding his way into my bedroom? I’d let Jacques in, I’d put the lives of everyone in the castle at risk, but she couldn’t know that I’d pushed him. That it had been me who’d caused this particular mess.
Behind me, Idris snarled at a witch attempting to clean him up.
My nurse glanced at him briefly, lowering her voice as she said, “It certainly put up a fight. The prince could barely stand by the time he arrived here.” At my questioning eyebrow, she elaborated. “Vampire venom induces a temporary paralysis, to prevent the victim from fighting back. Fae are more resistant than humans, but with that number of wounds, I’m astonished he made it here at all, never mind carrying you. The bite also prevents blood clotting, which is why you’re still bleeding. The potion will counter that.”
Idris snarled again, a guttural, vicious noise deep in his throat. Did he feel the same slicing pain that I did every time I moved? I’d done that to him. I didn’t want to care, but I did. And what had I done to Jacques? If Idris was covered in injuries, what state was my unlikely, undead friend in? Could he even bleed?
“Why did he do this to you?” Pansy whispered under her breath as my nurse took the spoon away. “I thought he was protecting you.”
I couldn’t answer that without admitting my petulant moment of weakness. I couldn’t tell her about Anwir’s lies, or Idris’ duplicity. I couldn’t tell her I would be gone come morning, not now I knew the prince intended to hold me here for life. One whisper of my change of heart and he’d have me locked away in a tower just like the one I’d freed him from.
“I guess he was just hungry.” Was that it? The best I could come up with.
But Pansy seemed content to drop her line of questioning. She brushed some hair out of my face. “You look pale. Shall I fetch something sweet from the kitchens?”
It was good to see a glimpse of my old friend, who’d smuggled cookies and cakes and fussed over me like a mother hen. “That sounds amazing. Could you leave it in my room for me? I think they’re going to let me go soon.”
“Of course. Do you want company?”
More than anything, I wanted to say yes, but I needed to be alone. I had no idea how late it was, only that it was fully dark outside the windows. It had been dusk when Jacques appeared. I’d wasted precious hours.
“To be honest, I’m knackered. I just want to sleep. Tomorrow though.”
I hated lying. I was sick of feeling guilty. This had to end. I needed to get home, once and for all.
“Tomorrow. Rest well.” Pansy gave me a last squeeze before scampering from the ward. I braved facing Idris to watch her puffy buns disappear from sight one last time. My heart sank, and I turned to stare at my lap before Idris could notice the tears filling my eyes.
The prince’s nurses left, leaving us alone. The air grew thick. His gaze burnt into my back, imploring me to turn around. I could all but hear the words he held on the edge of his tongue, admonishing me. I didn’t need to hear it. He’d lied to me, or at least, he hadn’t told me the truth, which was just as bad. After all we’d been through together, he’d lied. Tears lined my eyes. His criticism meant nothing. I didn’t care what he thought of me. Didn’t care if he was furious that I’d tangled with a vampire when I was supposed to be falling desperately in love with his lying brother.
My nurse returned, and I endured her prodding and poking while studiously avoiding Idris’ gaze. She tutted over the two perfectly round puncture holes, before applying a generous dollop of green paste and a dressing. Finally, with one last check of my pulse, the nurse smiled. “You’re doing much better, Your Majesty.” I wished they’d stop calling me that. “I’m happy for you to leave, as long as you keep that paste on until tomorrow.”
“I will. Thank you.”
I slid cautiously from the bed, unsure whether my wobbly legs would hold. The last thing I needed was to crumple in a heap and be forced to spend the night in the ward.
The nurse smiled encouragingly. “Send for one of us if anything changes.” And with that she bustled back to what I assumed was her office.
I edged around my bed, holding the footboard until I was sure my body remembered what to do.
“Aliza.”
My muscles tensed, attempting to hesitate at the sound of my name spoken so softly by a male who rarely used it, but I forced myself to keep walking.
He didn’t speak again.
Somebody had been in to tidy up my room. The glass scattered over the floor had disappeared, but an empty mirror frame perched atop my mysteriously righted dressing table. A valiant attempt to clean up the blood smattering the wall had been made, though a pink tinge remained. I averted my eyes quickly. My room was otherwise as it had always been, apart from the door. Idris had all but shattered it when he’d broken through. It hung crookedly from its hinges, with several buckled, splintering planks, and a hole blasted through the middle. Had the fae prince punched his way through, injuring himself before he’d even entered the fray? And why? How had he known I needed him?
No. I didn’t need anyone, least of all someone who’d hidden a pretty important truth from me.
I did what I could to close my door, wrestling it into the frame. There was nothing I could do about the hole. It was a good thing I wouldn’t be sleeping here tonight. I turned away.
On my bed lay a little round plate, topped with an iced fruit bun. The sight had my shoulders sinking. If only I could take Pansy with me, but there was no sense dwelling on that. I crossed to my wardrobe. A deep scratch slashed diagonally down one of the doors, and I raised my eyebrows. What, exactly, had those males done to each other?
Dragging the door open, I changed my shorts for the trousers I’d worn for the curse-breaking mission, freshly laundered and free of stains, but stowed my trusty denim inside my backpack, along with my gloves. I hadn’t forgotten how chilly the nights could be without a tent to huddle inside. With no alternative available, I had no choice but to keep my bloodstained bra, but I tugged my hoody over my head, wincing as it caught on my dressing. I hesitated at the sight of Jacques’ leather jacket. He wouldn’t have bitten me if I hadn’t pushed him to it, and he’d warned me not to trust him, but still. Had there been any need to try and kill me? Uncertainty flickered in my gut. Without Idris’ interference, would my vampire stalker actually have left me for dead? According to Sage, he’d almost bled me dry. Almost, because he’d been interrupted.
It didn’t matter. I’d never see any of them again. As though the thought had been an order, I snatched up the jacket, stuffing my arms into the delightfully long sleeves before closing the wardrobe, hiding my ballgown forever.
I spent the next few minutes rummaging through my room, stowing anything that might prove useful into my bag. By some miracle, I still had my hand-drawn map, and the starburst tiara might be broken, but the diamonds and white gold were probably worth more than my parents’ entire house. I’d consider it payment for my weeks of service in Neath. Legally, I was probably entitled to danger pay anyway.
The black daggers were no more, returned to whatever witch’s trove they’d come from, but if all went to plan, I wouldn’t need them. Besides, they were an ancient relic, and taking them felt a lot more like thievery than the diamonds did.
Finally, once I’d laced my hiking boots and wrapped my iced bun, placing it carefully on top of the other junk stowed in my bag, I slid my phone into my pocket. I regretted spending my afternoon draining my battery, because there was no way in hell I was asking Idris for a top-up. I’d just have to avoid the temptation to look through my pictures and hope it lasted long enough to call someone once I was back in the distinctly unmagical Fairy Glen.
Outside the window, the moon shone like a ghost, alone in an ocean of black. I blew out my candles.