Chapter 52 #2
Angharad clutched her stomach, but I knew the poison wasn’t acting yet.
“That Hadrian oaf couldn’t take care of you,” she snarled.
At first, I thought she meant Quinn, but then I recalled the assailant in my chambers.
My heart skipped. “I decided I’d have to befriend you, get you on my side…
But do you have any idea how many doors closed for us, how many courtiers were fucked over by your presence?
Some woodland rubbish infesting our halls, mocking centuries of culture? !”
My heart pounded. I fought to keep control of my expression, but something must have shown; Angharad’s lips curled with savage pleasure.
“You sent the assailant?” I asked. “Not Percy?”
“Everyone wanted you gone!” Angharad cackled with mounting hysteria.
“Queen Adelaide believed you were a nuisance the rest of us would sort out. The other courtiers were outraged, playing nice with the common filth infiltrating our court. So, I hired the man. I thought you’d figured it out, that you were avoiding me because somehow, you knew.
But you confided in me! And poor, stupid Percy…
no one questioned when I pointed the finger his way. ”
I clutched my glass. “You killed an innocent man.”
“No; I believe that was you,” she replied, sweat beading along her forehead. She swiped it away. “You killed him with magic, didn’t you? And poor Florence took the fall! It’s your fault she burned! You wanted Percy dead, so you brought her here!”
I slammed my glass on the table, shaking with enough fury to silence her.
“Let me tell you what was in that vial,” I murmured, regarding Angharad with newfound resentment. “Hellfire. I wanted you to feel what Florence experienced. And it must be starting now. Look at you.”
Angharad clutched her chest, gasping for air. Soon, the burning would spread from within, her nerves screaming as if flames licked at them.
Those pale features began to redden, then blistered, bursting from heat. She screamed, begging me to make it stop, else kill her now and let it be done.
“We were friends!” she shrieked, clawing at her throat.
“You smiled when Florence died.”
My attention shifted to Trefor. He was crying, watching Angharad’s flesh melt away, an avalanche of hair collapsing from atop her skull.
“Do you want to die with her?” I asked. “I have more.”
Trefor shook his head. “P-please, no, Your Majesty.”
“Good. Then when she stops breathing, you’ll remember none of this.
” I paused, letting Angharad’s screams interrupt me until her voice started to give.
“You found her dead, choked on her own vomit after another binge. She’ll have accidentally set herself on fire, knocking over a candle. Tragic, but…”
She wailed, thrashing in her seat. Her skin seeped between Trefor’s fingers and he let go, jumping as his wife’s body slammed against the table in convulsions.
“Expected,” I finished, rising from my seat. Angharad’s life was ending now, and my stomach twisted at the sight.
I went to the door and Trefor stopped me, grabbing hold of my wrist.
“Please. Please don’t leave,” he begged. “I should hate you. I should be screaming, fighting, but I…I can’t. I don’t understand…”
His grip tightened. Behind him, Angharad’s body lurched, then fell still.
“Take me with you. We’ll burn this house to the ground and I’ll move into the palace. Gods, what have you done to me?”
“Don’t worry,” I replied, patting him on the hand. “I’ll have further use of you. Burn it all down, if you wish. Move the children to the castle and find a new wife.”
I descended the stairs of the Tharons’ manor, making my way to the door. All the while I felt Trefor’s eyes on me, desperate and hungry. I took hold of the door and was stopped by an arm snaking around my waist, pulling me close.
Trefor’s mouth fell to my neck.
“Don’t touch me!” I shouted, but his hold only tightened as shadows cloaked him.
His free hand felt over my clothes, groping at my breasts from outside the bodice.
I bucked against him, trying to find some way to inflict injury, but he was too tall to headbutt, and my arms were worthless at my sides as his hold constricted me. “Trefor!”
The door slammed open. Marcy didn’t hesitate, drawing her sword and bringing it down so that it split the marquis’ head in two. He fell back, releasing me. I didn’t dare look.
I jumped onto Marcy, wrapping my arms around those powerful, armored shoulders. Sobs racked through me, not only from fear but from the unwinding of everything I’d just done. There was no coming back from any of it, and I did not wish to do so…but the last of my innocence deserved to be mourned.
Marcy’s hand fell on the small of my back.
“We’ll set a fire,” she said. “Take the kids on a ride, bring them to the palace.”
I nodded, unable to let go. Warm, red liquid from Trefor’s skull leaked underneath my shoes. I’d spoken aloud, commanding his desires, the Lord of Night assisting where love wasn’t enough, but I was a fool for thinking such devotion might come without consequences.
It was something I’d have to work on.
But that was a concern for another day.