Chapter Twenty-One #2
“She missed a check-in,” he told me, covering my hand with his and squeezing.
“You know Nira. She probably got on the train of something and lost track of time. Like a hound,” he added, trying to soften the edges of my anxiety.
But there was tension around his own eyes that had me even more on edge.
I followed his gaze, seeing him watching his father, who was talking animatedly to Tove, his face going red, spit flying from between his lips as his words appeared to get more and more frantic.
We were more than halfway through the day’s events. All that was left was the joust and the melee. The latter of which I didn’t plan to stick around for. But Jet was going to need to if he wanted to keep an eye on his father to make sure he didn’t do anything to risk the throne.
I leaned into Jet, pressing my head to his shoulder. For the briefest of seconds, his head pressed to the side of mine before he straightened.
I saw his eyes go round just before I heard Cass let out a yell.
Jet shot to his feet as I turned to see the scene his father was creating.
But it was just then that someone behind Jet screamed and several men started calling for a doctor.
I took a step to the side, following the commotion. For a long second, the crowd was too thick to see anything. Then the people parted.
And there he was.
Grimwood.
With his face down in his own plate.
Breathing.
But unmoving.
It was just then that Nira’s words came back to me.
Make sure you look surprised and worried when something happens to him.
It wasn’t as easy, I realized, to make a scene when you weren’t able to scream, cry, or call out for help.
So I did what I could.
I rushed around Jet and flung myself at Grimwood, face twisted up in grief, though I couldn’t seem to manage any real tears.
I tugged at his heavy frame, grabbed his face, made every effort to look like I was trying to stir him.
For just a second, I saw something slash across his features. Something heated, furious. But then his eyes went as slack as the rest of his face.
“Gemma,” a voice called as a hand reached for me. “Gemma, allow the doctors to attend to your father.”
Oh, right.
That was Jet.
And he was speaking to me.
This time, when he reached for me, I let him pull me away, then into his arms.
He pulled me back against the wall as a man called for everyone else to make way.
“That was some good acting, Lake Girl,” he murmured down by my ear. He looked every bit the devoted husband, holding his wife, trying to comfort her during a trauma.
But he only got to help me put on a show for a moment before all hell broke loose.
People started shouting, pushing, crying out. Guards came running. Fists flew.
Down in the stadium, the melee seemed to start early.
“Fuck,” Jet said, pulling me tightly against his nondominant side so he could reach for his sword.
I saw Tove and Cass being escorted down the platform and back toward the castle.
“Listen to me. Stay close. Hold onto me tight. Don’t stop moving. And if you see a weapon, grab it.”
He waited only to get a nod from me, then we were charging forward into the crush of bodies, everyone yelling, panicking, swinging at each other. While the lone healer tried to attend to Grimwood’s still frame.
A body shoved into me, slamming me into Jet, who didn’t slow, just clutched my arm tighter and tugged me forward.
There was no time to waste.
If the upper echelon were acting like animals, I didn’t want to think what those who came to the event craving violence were doing. And we had to hurry right past them to make our way to the castle.
With no Vishen.
And no Nira.
My heart fluttered in my chest as I nearly tripped over my skirts on the steps of the dais.
All I could hear was noise: the clatter of swords, the crunch of fists hitting bone, the cries of pain, the shouts of anger.
“There he is!” someone shouted.
I didn’t know if they were calling about Jet or not, but he was taking no chances as he stretched his stride longer, making me break into a run to keep up.
Hands shot out, grabbing me, pinching, tearing my dress. But Jet kept rushing forward, likely knowing how outnumbered he was, that he couldn’t slow or he might be ripped apart by the very people he was fighting so hard to give a better life.
Panic gripped my chest as a man with a mace ran toward us, his eyes crazed, his mouth parted in some sort of war cry.
Just as I was bracing myself for impact—as if it was possible to be prepared to be pierced by a dozen metal spikes—a body came out of nowhere, tackling the man to the ground.
The mace went flying, landing just a few feet away, but just too far out of reach to grab as Jet tugged me further away.
The crowd closed in, their grunts and screams filling my ears, making it impossible to hear what Jet was shouting at me.
A cry escaped someone and wetness splattered my face, the metallic smell of blood filling my nose.
I stumbled over a tree trunk as I felt my arm being wrenched back and forth, the air filling with clanking sounds.
When I glanced over, I found Jet’s body twisting back and forth as he swung his sword, colliding with someone else’s.
I wasn’t sure if he let go or I pulled away, but I lost his hold on me as I pushed up, trying to get to my feet.
Something collided with me, sending me falling, rolling down the small hill, rocks jabbing me in the ribs, twigs scraping against my cheeks.
A tree broke my roll, colliding with my ribs, knocking my breath out of me with a wheeze.
The other body was against me, and I fumbled for a rock, ready to do whatever I needed to do to defend myself. But it was a young woman, her eyes huge, blood leaking from her nose. Her lip was split, and her eye was blackened, but those looked like old injuries.
“You okay?” I asked, registering the bone-deep panic on her young face.
She shook her head, her eyes going watery.
“Are you here with your parents?” Another no. “Your friends?”
“No.”
“Do you have… anyone?”
A sniffle.
“No.”
“Okay. Listen to me. We are going to get up. You’re going to hold my hand as hard as you can. And we are going to run to the palace. Understood?”
She nodded.
I grabbed the rock with one hand and her hand with the other.
Then we jumped to our feet and ran.
There was no straight path.
The military had arrived, though I wasn’t sure if they were trying to calm the chaos or simply enjoying engaging with it.
Either way, armed men in violent situations couldn’t be trusted.
The girl and I wove in and out between swinging swords and grappling bodies. But each time we had to move, it felt like we got further and further away from the palace.
Where was Jet?
Was he okay?
No.
I couldn’t worry about him.
I had to keep us safe.
This was no place for a small, defenseless girl.
“Cora!” a man called as he moved into our way.
Beside me, the girl—Cora, I assumed—cried out and tried to yank away from me, tried to flee on her own.
I turned to look back at her delicate face, the old injuries.
Right.
Because we needed more dangerous men to deal with.
I turned toward the embankment, ignoring the burn in my thighs as we ran upward.
Almost near the top, I felt Cora’s weight yank backward. Then we were both falling, rolling over each other, grunting as elbows and knees collided with soft spots.
When we landed, I found myself sprawled over the girl, staring up at the man with the black eyes and, if he was capable of hurting the girl, just as black a heart.
“Give her back to me. She’s mine.”
“Not anymore.”
“And who the fuck are you, bitch?” he snarled, leaning down to close his hand around my throat.
Beneath me, Cora whimpered.
I tightened my grip on a rock.
“The Dark Princess,” I snapped, ramming the side of the rock into his face.
He fell back on his butt, staring up at me with wide eyes, his hand clutching his (hopefully broken) jaw.
The horrified realization on his face was almost as satisfying as his pain.
“I didn’t… I didn’t know…”
“You didn’t know that she was a child?” I snapped, waving back at the slumped figure of Cora.
“Bought her fair and square,” the man slurred as his face swelled up.
Bought her?
What the hell was going on under Cass’s reign?
No wonder Jet was working so hard to try to end it.
Though it looked like his ‘without complete chaos’ plan was quickly crumbling.
A body fell into the bastard with the broken jaw, sending both of them falling.
I wanted to swing again.
I wanted to hurt him more.
Make him suffer for everything he’d done to the girl. But there wasn’t time. Things were getting too wild.
I turned, grabbed Cora, dragged her to her feet, and started running again.
We stepped over moaning bodies, narrowly avoided knife and sword tips, then finally, there it was.
Looming large.
Surrounded by the king’s guard.
The palace.
“Let us in!” a familiar voice called.
I whipped around, finding Vishen standing near the blocked door. With a horrifyingly limp, bloodied Nira in his arms.
“No one gets in,” a guard barked back.
I rushed forward, pulling Cora with me.
“Move aside!”
The jig was up on my not being mute.
Besides, I got the feeling that everything had just changed.
“And who the hell are—”
The guard’s gaze slid from my face up to my head, where my crown was still pinned to my hair.
I took a twisted sort of pleasure in the way his eyes widened, in how his posture straightened. Worried, no doubt, about his job.
“My Princess,” he said, ducking his head, his gaze on my feet as he opened the door.
Vishen rushed inside with Nira, and I followed behind with Cora.
“Where the hell is Jet?” Vishen demanded.
I glanced back out the doors, searching for him in the crowd.
But I saw no one.
The doors slid closed.
And my heart seized.