7. Seven
That was a fucking disaster.
”Shan!” I shout the moment I”m out of Elva”s earshot.WhileI”ve no cluewhere he is, hehas tohave heard me.
Within moments, one of the doors in the long hallway before me swings open, a confused and worried Shan peeking his head out into the hall. ”Yes, Your Majesty?”
”War room,” I bark.
”Oh, shit. Okay, let me just clean up what I-”
I interrupt him, ”No. Now.”
Without a moment”s pause longer, he falls into step beside me, assuming the positions we”ve become so accustomed to in our time together. ”What happened?”he finally asks. ”Something with Elva?”
”Miss Aistin is fine,”I assure him, disliking how comfortably he uses her first name. ”But there was an attack at the market today. She was definitely the target.”
”And how could you possibly know that?”
Without so much as a whistle to summon him, the grisly-looking man who pulled the trigger on my people this afternoon comes walking into sight.
Though walking isn”t exactly the right term. I would call it more of a drag, barely able to movehisbody at all with how brokenhisneck is. One snap from Gerald was all it took. Other than the decidedly broken tilt to his neck, you”d never know this man is wholly and utterly dead.
”That is so wrong,”Shan muttersunder his breath, causing me to laugh.
As we walk through the doorway to the war room, the broken man follows closely behind. As I sink into my chair at the desk, Shan stands beside me, watching him with morbid fascination. ”I”ve never seen one look this normal before.”I don”t tell him that heactually has,not ready to burst that particular bubble.”How does he still look so… alive?”
With a shrug, I tell him as little as possible, ”The sooner they are to their death when I get them, the closer they remain to their living form. He might not even know that he”s dead.”
”Who”s dead?”the man then asks from his chair in front of us.
I cross one leg over the other, feigning nonchalance even though my entire body feels like the moment just before lightning strikes, my skin breaking out in goosebumps. There”s no need to let Shan knowjusthow much seeing Elva in danger today affected me. I”m not ready to have that conversation with myself, much less him. ”You are. And I have some questions for you.”
”What are you talking about?”The man stares me down as if waiting for a joke or an explanation. But I do not have time for either of those.
”You are dead,”I reiterate. ”And I brought you back because I need to ask you a few questions.”
”How did I die?”
Rolling my shoulders to ease the tension, I give him this one answer, ”Gerald snapped your neck. Now, who sent you?”
”Who the fuck is Gerald?”he nearly shouts, and I don”t fucking have time for this.
Not willing to keep playing this back and forth, Itake complete control ofhis mind, searching for his last few memories. I don”t like doing this becausein order todo so, I have to look at the exact moment they died and trace backward from there. The pain, the fear, the resignation, or lack thereof in this case, in those last moments, are something I do not enjoy living through. Buthe”s not going togive these answers willingly, and I need them right now.
I watch in his head as the memory of his neck snappingand everythinggoing dark clears, going back further to his complete focus on Elva, the determination that he was going to put a bullet in her skull if it was the last thing he ever did. I live through his terror at the idea of failure, the fear that something terrible is going to happen to his family if he does.
In the recent past, swirling through his head, there”s a note on his workbench. A carpenter with a penchant for hunting caught the eye of a mystery donor, who threatened to kill him and his family if he did not kill our visiting dignitary.Andthere,beneath the note, crumpled and smeared, a crude drawing of Miss Elva Aistin.Even in shades of charcoal gray and parchment yellow, there”s no mistaking her large eyes, brilliant grin, and flowing hair. There”s even a little dimple on one side, and I wonder if that”s what it looks like when she truly smiles. The falsified ones I”ve received have been far less vibrant than the one in this drawing.
This is from someone who knows Elva. Truly knows her well enough to see who she is behind the niceties she wears as armor. Which is helpful, yet decidedly not. Whoever wants her neutralized has gone through the effort of obtaining a drawing from someonewho isclose enough to see the truth about her. Who could possibly have that kind of power and influence and want her dead? And why?
”I”ve seen enough,”I tell Shan and the man before me, whose name I don”t even care to retrieve. ”You can go dump yourself into a grave now.”
Telling him to do so is redundant, but I lovethe wayShan shudders whenever I give the corpses orders.
I”ll simply watch through the man”s eyes, guiding him until he finds a small placehe candig himself a hole to lie in forever. Once he climbs inside, I”ll let go of my hold on his soul, let it travel into the next world, and give him the peace he requires. But for now, he is mine to control. And should I need him again, he will be then, too—just… without the messy soul attached.
”That is unnerving,”Shan whispers once he”s gone. ”How quickly after death do you need to get to them to keep them whole like that?”
Three minutes.
But I don”t tell him that. ”Not sure. Can”t say I”ve ever experimented on them that way. Once they”ve been dead too long, whatever makes them themselves is gone, leaving behind a perfectly empty vessel for me to control. All the memories, but none of the personality or emotions attached to them.”
He pushes for more answers, curiosity getting the best of my right-hand man. ”How long could he have gone on like that? Not knowing he”s dead? If you hadn”t told him, I mean.”
”Indefinitely, I suppose.”I shrug. ”If I hadn”t been controlling him, he might have tried to go home to his family, only to drop dead as soon as he left the castle grounds.”
My powers only stretch so far, and from the tests I”ve done,it seems that the castle grounds areroughly the extent of my reach.
”Wow.”
I mhmm, not wantingto continue this conversation any longer than necessary.
Clearing my throat, I change the subject, needing to get to the solution of this fucking conundrum of a day. ”Okay, let”s talk about what this means.”
Hours later, Shan and my other living guards were given new assignments, new rounds, and new rules to follow.
The most important change we”re makingis also going tobe the most difficult by far. Elva can”t be permitted to leave the castle grounds, nor can she be without a chaperone at any given time. She”s going to hate it, but for the sake of my entire fucking country, she can”t be harmed.
Attempting to rub the tension from my temples, I wait patiently as Shan explains again the consequences should Elva be killedwhilstshe is here.
Allowing them that provision was a mistake. Allowingherhere at all was a mistake. According to Shan, there are so many reasons people would want her dead and take this opportunity to make it happen. Half of our surrounding countries still have extremist groups that believe only Zalig are worthy of leadership and will stop at nothing to eliminate non-Zaligs from power.
A handful of our neighbors also still believe women shouldn”t be in power, whileothers feel that letting just anyone have a say in their leaders will have disastrous consequences. Any one of them would take this time to send a message and send our nations into warin the process. Do any of them know that her safety has been guaranteed for these peace talks? Certainly not. How could they?
So now, not only will I be surrounded by pompous politicians and their outdated ideals, but I”ll have to solve the mystery of which of them sent an assassin to kill my guest while I”m enduring their endless drivel.
On the bright side, I”ll have a pretty, if perpetually stony, face to look at all the while.I let my mind wanderjustfor a moment as to whatshemight be doingrightnow.If she”s already consumed the winethat Rayadropped off for her not too long ago.
I wonder if she mourns the lives lost today or if her only concern is for herself. Would she be worried in her last moments about the consequences of her death for the rest of the world, or would she only fear for herself? Begrudgingly, I already know the answer to both of those questions. When it comes to her own safety, she is utterly unbothered. Otherwise, she would never have come here in the first place, and she would watch her tone when she spoke to me.
I can”t think of any other person who would dare to so brazenly disrespect me, so thoroughly rake me across the coals. Raya might be a close second, but even she has her self-preservation and knows not to push me when I”m on the brink of murdering someone.
But not Elva. Her cruelty seeps into my skin, infuriating me and making me question myself even when I”ve done nothing but defend myself and my kingdom. Her accusations at every step leave me clenching my jaw when anyone else would be dead before they hit the floor after spewing such vitriol.
While part of me wishes to punish her for such insolence, another, far more dangerous side of me craves her unkind words. They”re the only glimpse she”s willing to give me of who shereallyis. If I have to earn her ire at every step to see the stunning creature beneath her mask, I”ll do so.
I wonder what it would take to completely destroy the facade she wears and see what lies underneath the pristine, locked-in-place visage she”s built up. She may have the uncanny ability to infuriate me, but I can get under her skin just as easily. How much would it take before she breaks completely? What manner of wickedness would come out if she let it?
For the briefest moment today, I was blessed with seeing her. She was so close to the freedom of letting go, her hunger evident in the hitch of her breath, the way her body shook from the effort of holding back from me.
Between the venom she spat at me, the only thought in my mind was to discover if her viper”s tongue would taste as sinful as it sounded. I know instinctively that the answer is a resounding yes. As she tensed, I could feel her begging her body not to react to me, begging to remain in control. How could I possibly make her lose herself completely? What sounds would she make if she allowed herself to–
”Are you even listening to me?”Shan interrupts my reverie just in time to stop that delicious thought from going any further.
”Admittedly, I am not.”
”Well, this is kind of important,”he tsks. ”We need to keep Elva under lock and key. Throw her up in the tower if we have to.”
With a laugh, I admit, ”I”ve considered it. But we have to keep her happy, too.”
”Why don”t you just kill her and then keep her going like the hired gun today?”he asks, and something inside my chest feels hot, a fury I can”t explain and choose to ignore. While I disliked the casual tone with which he spoke of her earlier, I despise his carelessness of her even more. ”Certainly you could make her pretend to be happy, go along with the negotiations, get everything we need out of them, and then escort her home. Once she crosses the border, she could die, and no one would be the wiser.”
”I”m not killing her,”the words escape unbidden.
”Why not? It would make things easier. Then you needn”t worry about whatever killer they send next.”
I slam my palm on the table before me and repeat, ”I”m not killing her. And neither is anyone else.”
Taken aback, Shan holds up both palms in concession. ”Understood, sire. I just thought it was something to consider.”
”It”s been considered. It”s not happening,”I reiterate tohisconfusion. Normally, I wouldn”t worry myself that much about someone”s life.There areonly a handful of peopleI care aboutenough to keep them breathing.Death is just an inevitable part of life.Twohalves of one whole, and you can”t have onewithout the other.So I cannot keep death from anyone, not really. I can only bring it to them faster or keep their restless spirit trapped inside their body.
But even without Ovoor”s warning yesterday, Idon”tthink I wouldbe willing to snuff out Elva”s light.There”s too much of it, too fiery. She hides behind her well-trained manners and rigid posture, but the fire shines through each time I push her, the shell breaking.
Of course, Shan doesn”t need to hear all of that. He only knows what I allow.
One of my guards alerts me that my little houseguest is demanding to see me, and I watch the altercation through several sets of undead eyes. The way she commands them, plainly drunk but still ever the formidable force, reminds me of a queen.
Now, there”s an idea.
She storms through the castle, only tripping over her bare feet once, immediately righting herself. Chin held high, she smooths the hair attempting to escape from the tight plaits, and continuesoneven though she has no clue where she”s going.
I allow the guards to guide her here, a plan for her finally forming in my mind.
”What”s happening?”Shan asks from his seat across from me.
Excitement bubbles up inside me, but I keep it from showing, asI always do. I might trust Shan to see my face, but even he isn”t trustworthy enough to know my deepest thoughts. Andthe thoughts I haveof Elva are not appropriate for anyone, much less a man who would most definitely take my place if he could. He can pretend proximity to power is enough for him, but it isn”t. Not for anyone, not really.
”Elva is looking for me. She”s drunk and furious.”I use all my effort to keep the smile from creeping onto my face. For a moment, he seems suspicious but I can”t be sure.
”Are you going to send her away?”He raises a brow. ”We are not finished discussing what to do with her.”
”You needn”t worry about that, Shan,”I assure him. ”I have a plan.”
Both brows raise now. ”You do?”
”I do.”Now I can”t keep the wicked grin from my face,the ensuing torture Elva willbe inmaking me nearly giddy. Her fury is sure to be utterly delicious and I cannot wait to see how she throws it at me.
Shan”s face hides nothing. He might not particularly care for our guest, but heknows my jovial mood can only mean something terrible is coming for her. ”And are you going to share your plan with me?”
”You”ll hear of it soon enough,”I tell him. ”She”s nearly here.”
And then the doors swing open, a barefoot, furious little drunkstandingon the other side, waiting to unleash her rage on me. A shudder of excitement travels through me at the sight of her vengeful glare and I prepare for another exquisite, intoxicating volley of insults.
”Excellent timing,”I announce, slowing her furious steps. ”We were just discussing what we would be doing with you.”