Chapter Twenty-Three
Serin
“What happened to her?” I asked as we ran up the stairs to our quarters.
Nira was in and out of consciousness in Vishen’s arms, her head dangling, blood soaking through her hair.
“When I found her, she was fighting with three men—maybe Grimwood’s guys. They weren’t ours, but they were trained. She was outnumbered six-to-one. I jumped in, but it was a tough fight. She jumped back from a sword swipe, tripped, and fell into a rock.”
My gaze scanned over her, seeing more blood soaking through her side.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“She has to be,” Vishen said, pulling her closer, the worry etched deep into his face.
We burst into Vishen’s room, and he gently lowered Nira down.
“Tell me what to do.”
“Clean cloths. Water. I have a kit,” he said, rushing to grab it from his wardrobe. “Not your water,” he clarified.
“I might be able to convince it to heal her,” I objected.
“Did you see what is going on out there?” he asked, his tone more brusque than I’d ever heard toward me.
But I couldn’t blame him. He was clearly more than professionally worried about Nira.
“We don’t know if we are going to be on lockdown for days.
You need to conserve all of your water so you don’t start fading on us. ”
“Okay,” I agreed, not liking it but understanding his logic. “Cora, stay with me,” I demanded, getting a little nod from the terrified girl before rushing across the hall.
I grabbed water, taking just a second to chug some of my own, then helped her rip the clean linens into strips.
When we made it across the hall, Vishen had Nira’s shirt off, exposing the nasty gash in her side.
My stomach twisted.
“Serin, get over here and apply pressure. I need to work on her head. Can the girl hold this basin?” he asked as he turned Nira so her head hung off the bed.
Cora and I rushed forward. She picked up the basin, holding it under Nira’s head as Vishen poured glass after glass of water over her head until the blood was washed away enough to see the wound.
I steeled my stomach, grabbed a few rags, and pressed them hard into Nira’s side, making her shoot awake with a cry.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“’s okay,” Nira said weakly.
“Babe, I’m gonna have to shave half your head,” Vishen told her while he had her awake. I didn’t miss the soft way he touched her cheek as he told her.
Nira tried to offer him a smile, but she was too weak. “It’ll look badass,” she managed in a tiny whisper.
“Yeah, it will,” Vishen agreed. “You can put that down,” he told Cora. “Could you go into the office next door and grab some of the alcohol?”
“How bad?” Nira asked.
“Could be worse,” Vishen told her. “I’ve seen worse.”
“Did they live?” Nira asked, sounding like she was fading.
“Most of them. And you’re more of a stubborn-ass than all of them combined. And I give a fuck if something happens to you. So, I like your odds.”
“Here,” Cora said, rushing back with two different bottles of alcohol—one brown and one clear.
“Let’s have a drink,” Vishen said, lifting Nira’s head and holding up the brown liquor. Nira went ahead and chugged.
“Is that good for her?”
“It will hopefully keep her from feeling this next part too much.”
“It’s going to be that bad?” I asked.
Vishen’s gaze cut to me. “Yes. And Nira is strong. I’m going to need both of you to hold her down.”
My stomach twisted at the idea of having to hold down a woman writhing and screaming in pain. But if it meant she would survive this, I would do what I needed to do.
“Cora?” I asked, looking back at her.
She gave me a tight nod.
Vishen grabbed his razor and made short work of shearing off Nira’s gorgeous hair.
My stomach heaved as I looked at the gash down her scalp, but Cora’s face was impassive looking at the same wound.
“Alright. Hold her down as hard as you can,” Vishen said, washing his hands in the clear alcohol, then reaching for a needle and thread.
Oh, God.
I pressed down on Nira’s arm and leg as Cora did the same. Then I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore the way my stomach lurched as Nira’s body jolted and she let out a scream I was sure I’d hear in my nightmares for years to come.
“I know. I know,” Vishen said, voice tight. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry,” he continued as Nira thrashed and cried.
Tears streamed down my own face and I thanked the universe when Nira eventually went slack, unconscious from the pain.
Only then did I risk opening my eyes.
“The head wound is done,” Vishen, hands covered in blood, eyes red, said as he peeled the rags away from her side.
“Are you okay?” I asked, sniffling.
“No.”
He cleaned her side with water before reaching for the alcohol. He paused, exhaling hard, steeling his face, then poured.
Nira shrieked awake, eyes wild, pained, confused.
“You’re okay,” Vishen assured her, but he didn’t sound certain. “Halfway done.”
There was no reasoning with Nira then, though, driven half-mad with pain as Vishen threaded the needle again and started to stitch her side back together.
Only this time, there was no mercy of unconsciousness. Nira cursed and begged until all that was left were harsh, sharp breaths and a body so taut I wasn’t sure how she didn’t snap.
Vishen snipped the last stitch, exhaled hard, then leaned up, pressing his face into her neck.
“It’s over. It’s all over. You’re alright.”
Feeling like I was suddenly in the way, I released Nira—whose arm lifted heavily so her hand could rest on the back of Vishen’s neck—then climbed off the bed, taking Cora with me into the hallway.
Knight was in the room, whining. Almost like he knew things were dangerous and was upset that he couldn’t help.
“He’s friendly. Until you need him not to be,” I told her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded as she reached out to pet the dog. “Are you?”
“No,” I admitted, leading her into my quarters, where I scrubbed at the blood on my hands, on my face, and neck.
I chugged water, offered Cora some, then stripped out of my ruined gown. I didn’t reach for another of the fancy dresses, though. Instead, I grabbed the freshly washed borrowed outfit from Nira.
I could still hear the screams, shouts, and clanking of swords from outside. If this was a war, I wanted to dress the part.
“Can I loan you a change of clothes?” I asked, seeing her filthy, torn dress.
She gave me a nod.
I fished out a nightgown, not sure if anything else I had would fit her.
Cora stripped out of her filthy gown, and I felt my stomach twist for what felt like the millionth time that night, seeing the raised, healed welts down her legs, her arms, and across her back.
No wonder she hadn’t been bothered by Nira’s wounds. She’d been treating her own for so long.
“I need to go look for Jet,” I said, dropping down to grab my flask from under the bed and pouring some into a smaller bottle. Just in case. “You can stay here. There’s food. Or you can go across the hall with Vishen and Nira.”
“You shouldn’t go alone,” she said, her voice small.
In her white nightgown, she looked even younger than she had before.
As much as I felt sick at the idea of roaming the palace alone, I couldn’t put a traumatized child in danger.
I mustered a confidence I didn’t feel and shrugged. “I’m perfectly safe here.”
Was that a lie? Most likely. But I’d taken responsibility for her. I had to keep her safe.
“Can I stay here?”
“Yes. Rest. Relax. Help yourself to the food. Bathe if you want. Knight will keep you company. I won’t be long.”
Hopefully.
I made my way into the hall, pausing outside Vishen’s room, but ultimately deciding not to tell him what I was up to. Vishen would insist on going with me, and Nira needed him a lot more than I did.
I went into Jet’s library, found the dagger inside his drawer, and carefully slipped it into my waistband, finding the cool blade against my skin comforting.
I had no idea who was in the palace. Had Cass allowed allies to come inside to safety, or if he’d locked the doors to anyone but the royal family? Knowing Cass, my coin was on the latter. No one would ever accuse him of being generous. No matter how serious the situation.
But that worked for me as I crept down the long, wide hallways. They were empty even of servants, who I imagined were either still trapped outside, taking care of their own wounds, or were hiding in their quarters.
I made my way down to the main floor, rushing in and out of the dining hall, the ballroom, and the foyer.
But Jet and his father were nowhere to be found.
Was there a specific place they were kept during tense times? One of the towers, like the laundress had been trapped in?
Or were they simply in Cass’s quarters? Trying to come up with a plan on how to bring order?
My stomach clenched at the idea of willingly walking into Cass’s room, especially if Jet wasn’t there, but what other choice did I have? If he wasn’t there… then he was still trapped outside.
No.
I couldn’t even think about that.
Not with how bloodthirsty that crowd was, how angry they were. At Cass. But in their eyes, Jet would just be an extension of him. Or a way to hurt his father.
I crept down the hallway of Cass’s wing, surprised not to find any guards around. Perhaps they’d all been sent outside to guard against any kind of invasion.
I made my way toward the first door, sliding it open and finding myself in a sprawling office space dominated by a massive, cluttered desk.
But no Cass.
I glanced back into the hall before rushing forward toward the desk where a glass of wine sat untouched.
I didn’t know where Jet was.
What might be happening to him.
But I did know one thing.
No matter what was going on, he wanted his father to stop terrorizing his people.
Cass needed to be taken out of commission.
And who else was going to get a chance like this?
I rushed to the desk, uncapped the flask, and slipped slightly more Stillwater extract into the glass than I’d used for Grimwood.
“Well, well, well,” a voice called, making my stomach bottom out.
I debated putting down the flask, but wanted whatever weapons I had close to me.
I straightened and turned, keeping an arm behind my back.
There he was.
Tov.
“Oh, no need to hide the flask now,” he said, his smile chilly. “That wasn’t quite as smooth as the work you did with Grimwood, but I’m impressed by your nerve.”
I angled my chin at him.
“Oh, we both know very well you can speak. Not only speak, but scheme.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do, Serin.”
My pulse went thready.
How did he know that?
Was he listening somehow? Did he have other spies we didn’t know about? But we’d been so careful.
An ugly thought surfaced.
Because there were four people who knew about me.
Me. Jet. Vishen. Nira.
Had he sent one of them?
They were the only ones who knew I could speak, who knew my name.
But, no.
No.
I refused to believe that.
Vishen had been with Jet for so long. Had kept him safe, had spent every spare moment helping him plan to take his throne from his father.
Sure, Nira was new. But she’d been protective too. She’d almost died trying to protect me.
But if it wasn’t one of them, then…
Wait.
My gaze cut to Tove.
“You sent the laundress?”
“There’s that brain,” Tove said. “I didn’t send the laundress. But I did find her. Flushed the Bellhush out of her. Question her. I was so busy with her I nearly missed your masterful poisoning of your father.”
“Are you—”
“Tove!” Cass yelled from somewhere down the hall.
“In here, Your Majesty,” Tove called.
My free hand went toward my waist, ready to grab the borrowed dagger.
Did I think I could fight off both these men? Probably not. But I wouldn’t go down without a fight, that was for sure.
“Where is my son?” Cass barked as he came striding into the room.
His hair was wild, like he’d been raking his hands through it. There was a bloody scrape down his face and a wild look in his eyes.
“Maybe we should ask your daughter-in-law,” Tove suggested.
Cass turned as he moved behind his desk, his brows pinched. “She’s mute. And likely daft.”
I inched away from the desk, stepping closer to the wall, wanting to see any attack coming.
Tove was still standing near the door, close enough that he could easily grab me if I made a run for it.
I could try to tackle him then just… crawl away. Run to Vishen.
I still didn’t hear any guards in the halls.
It was just the three of us.
A mad king.
His most trusted advisor.
And me.
The odds weren’t in my favor, but they were far better than they could have been if the area around the palace wasn’t a battlefield.
I just needed to focus. Remember what Nira, Vishen, and Jet had taught me.
“Right?” Cass barked, making me jolt. When I turned, I realized he was staring at me. “Or have you been lying to me? Have you been scheming against me?”
What was my move here?
Tell him I could speak?
Or stay silent and let his suspicious, unstable brain wonder if Tove was the one lying?
Before I could answer, though, I watched as Cass reached for his glass.
My heart flew into my throat.
My head whipped over, looking at Tove.
But he didn’t rush forward to knock the glass from the king’s hand. He didn’t even open his mouth to object as the glass lifted to Cass’s lips.
My heart was thundering loudly in my ears.
No.
Wait.
That wasn’t my heart.
Those were footsteps.
Someone was coming.
Cass took a long swig of the wine as he sat in his chair.
My blood froze in my veins.
The footsteps grew closer.
Then stopped.
I didn’t know which way to look: at the king with the poison working its way through his system, at Tove, who allowed it to happen, or at the figure that was suddenly at the door.
I chose the last option, turning and feeling my heart swell in my chest.
“Jet,” I whispered.
There was a loud thud, making all of us turn toward the king. Who was folded forward facedown on his desk. Unmoving.
Jet stepped closer to me, his hand on his sword.
“What is going on?”
My gaze slid to Tove, who was watching both of us.
I had no idea.