Chapter Sixteen
Olympia
Iwanted to kill Cosmo.
And Myrine, that bitch. She’d stood there and done nothing while her father had murdered a boy in cold blood. Samuel Everett was just fifteen years old. Fifteen.
How old had Dante been when Cosmo beat him the first time?
Had Myrine known? Had she just stood there and watched her father abuse her only son?
Before, I would’ve said there was no way.
I always thought she was one of the strongest women I knew.
But now, I knew the truth, and there was no excuse for that kind of weakness.
Olympia, Luca’s voice was an intrusion in my mind. I slammed my mental doors shut, locking him on the other side, but I couldn’t avoid him being physically across from me.
“Olympia, don’t do this,” he said, his tone low in warning.
I just kept my gaze on the white sheet in front of me, now soaked through with crimson where the lump of the boy’s body ended without a head.
“Don’t go there,” Luca continued, sliding close to me as my chest rose and fell in rapid succession.
Harrison, who’d come with us as Luca and Milo had carried the boy’s body back to his home, looked over with a frown.
I could feel his eyes on me as I clenched my fists at my sides and fought the rising tide of anger.
Then he was pushing past Luca and gripping my shoulders in his hands, shaking me slightly to get me to look at him.
I saw the concern in his expression when our eyes met.
“Breathe,” he barked.
I gasped in a breath.
“I want to kill him too,” Harrison confessed quietly.
I blinked at him as Luca glanced between us, pursing his lips and tilting his head to one side.
“I want to rip his fucking throat out,” Harrison whispered, “but I can’t. So we’ll find another way to hurt him.”
I exhaled, chest deflating and rage dissipating slightly.
Luca’s eyes widened at the realization that someone had actually managed to calm me down, to help me control my anger, for once.
I was just as surprised, if I was being honest, but I fought hard not to let it show as I gave Harrison one firm nod. A promise.
“He was fifteen,” I whispered, voice cracking.
“I know,” he replied, still staring into my eyes.
“Milo promised his mother she’d be provided for,” Luca interjected, trying to help, as always.
“Not much consolation for a woman who lost both her sons this morning,” Harrison snapped, gaze whipping toward Luca who glared back.
“We’re trying to help, Third Ringer.”
“Yeah? Well, start by being less of an asshole.”
“What did you just say to me?”
“Enough,” I barked as Luca took a menacing step forward. “We need to clear out, let this woman mourn in peace.”
I could still hear the sobbing from a back bedroom where the dead boy’s mother was now surrounded by people from her ring.
“You go,” Harrison said, still glaring at Luca. “I’m needed here.”
He turned back toward the hall that led to the bedrooms and the sobbing woman within one of them.
I looked down at the body in front of me once more before stepping away and heading for the door.
Luca followed a moment later but didn’t say another word as we made our way through the crowd of Third Ringers who’d gathered outside this poor woman’s home to offer comfort or gossip about what had happened.
They stared at us as we passed, eyes wide and distrustful.
I scanned them with a shrewd glare. Some would have that tattoo inked into their skin, hidden somewhere that wasn’t visible.
Some would use this as an excuse to justify violence in the form of retribution against all those on the First Ring, not just the Vipers.
Some would come for my family. Some couldn’t be trusted. But which ones?
“Is it him?” Luca asked when we reached the stairs and began our ascent.
My steps faltered as I turned back to find him watching me with a frown.
“Who?” I asked.
“That guy back there; Harrison. Is he the one you have feelings for?”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I turned to face the Second Ring we were ascending to now.
“You didn’t say he was a lower ringer, Olympia,” Luca said and there was an accusation in his tone that had me bristling.
“I didn’t say it was him either,” I snapped.
“You don’t have to. I saw the way you looked at him.”
His tone was soft, quiet, but I whirled to face him just the same. He nearly slammed into my back, I’d stopped so suddenly. I had my finger drilling into his chest before he could take another step.
“If you breathe a word to anyone about this, I’ll gut you,” I threatened.
“That wasn’t a denial.”
No. It wasn’t.
I just shook my head and turned back around, storming up the stairs to the First Ring in an effort to leave him behind.
There was no one on the streets up here.
No First Ringers out for a jaunt to the Mitte, no acolytes rushing back and forth between their House and the temple, none of the few skilled servants from the lower levels we allowed up here when needed.
Each House was on lock down as members of all three families came to terms with the events of the morning and plotted a way forward.
Luca turned toward Lynx as I crossed to return to Avus.
“Stay calm, Olympia,” he warned as I started to walk off. “Cooler heads need to prevail this time.”
“Do they?” I asked, gritting my teeth.
Luca held my gaze for a moment longer before turning and striding off toward his House.
I followed the path to mine, doing my best to mentally prepare for whatever I would encounter inside.
It was as chaotic as I expected. Voices all shouted to be heard over each other as aunts and uncles cried out to Nascha questions about what was going to happen, how we would respond, if there was to be a war.
More called out to Milo about the status of our alliance with Lynx, if the newness of such a thing would hold amidst this pressure and, uncomfortably, if he was even married at all since the consummation hadn’t yet occurred.
My cousin bore it all with a raised chin and flushed cheeks.
My grandmother let the clamor die down before raising her hands for silence.
As murmurs turned to whispers, her serene expression remained still.
“Cosmo of House Viper has brought violence to one of our most holy ceremonies, disrupted the ancestral rites of matrimony, and taken the life of a young boy whose mother now mourns two sons gone from her arms,” Nascha announced in a tone that was stiff and intolerant.
Her facade of serenity was cracking, I realized.
The anger was seeping through. If the silence in the room was any indication, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
“As a member of the Tribunal, I can promise you one thing. He will be held responsible.”
“You seek to hold a trial for the patriarch of a major House?” Uncle Elias gasped from the center of the room. “Has such a thing ever been done?”
I rolled my eyes. You would think the family historian would know the answer to that question better than anyone.
“There is one example we’re aware of in which a matriarch of a major House was tried for poisoning a member of her own family hundreds of years ago,” Nascha announced.
“Your Heir remembered the tale and the legal precedent it set. In the event that a member of the Tribunal is to be tried for high crimes or treason, the remaining members of the Tribunal will be joined by the five leaders of the minor houses to form a council of seven which will hear the accusation and defense before determining fault.”
“Why do we have to have a trial?” another uncle shouted from the back. “There are countless witnesses who saw him behead the boy.”
“Cosmo will argue the force was necessary to keep the peace,” Milo answered, stepping forward to our grandmother’s side.
“He might try any manner of excuse. That the Culled’s refusal to go and serve the Geist would invoke their rage and poison all of Sanctuary, that it is his duty to see the Geist’s will followed and obeyed as specified in our very foundation, that the boy was a heretic or posed some danger himself.
If we do not allow him the opportunity to defend himself, we are no better than he is, lobbing off heads as we see fit.
That is not justice. That is not who we are. ”
A cry of outrage shot up around the room.
Milo and Nascha exchanged a glance and my cousin frowned.
It was understandable that they were upset.
A fifteen-year-old boy had been beheaded this morning.
The natural response was to be furious, to want revenge, but now was not the time to be fighting amongst ourselves about what to do about it.
“Hey,” I shouted but no one heard me.
I glanced at the table beside me in the foyer and reached for the vase atop it. Then I climbed up on top of the table and threw the vase down as hard as I could. The sound of shattering ceramics filled the space and everyone stopped shouting to look at me.
“Those two are our leaders,” I snapped at them, pointing toward where Nascha and Milo stood. “And our family. They’re in charge. They say there needs to be a trial so shut the fuck up and let them have one. If he gets convicted, they’ll take care of it. If he doesn’t, I will.”
The silence stretched as the members of my family looked around at one another.
Milo frowned and Nascha sighed but my words had the desired effect of placating the masses.
Besides, I’d meant them. Let the Tribunal do their thing.
It didn’t matter. Cosmo would pay for what he did whether it was through legal means or not.
I only had to take one look at the mass of simmering rage that was the members of House Avus to know that.
We’re coming your way, Luca’s voice intoned in my mind.
My eyes shot to Milo whose brows were furrowed.
I wondered if he’d received a similar message from Isla as the doors behind us opened and half a dozen members of House Lynx, still in their burgundy finery, marched in.
Raghnall led them, of course, with Luca and Isla on either side.
Cora was noticeably absent but two of Raghnall’s sons and another of his granddaughters entered behind them.
I met Luca’s gaze and matched his frown.
Things seem to be going about as well here as they are at home, he noted, eyes scanning the room before looking me up and down. Why are you on a table?
They wouldn’t shut the hell up so I could speak.
His lips quirked into a smile as he strode through the shattered pottery and reached out a hand.
I took it, allowing him to help me down.
The members of House Avus watched the exchange as Milo strode past us to face Raghnall, Nascha not far behind.
I dusted myself off as I hit the ground and glanced up just in time to see Isla frowning at the blood staining my cousin’s wedding suit.
“Milo,” Raghnall greeted in a low rumble. “Nascha.”
“Raghnall,” my grandmother said as she reached his side. “We’ve much to discuss, I imagine.”
“I would say so.”
Without another word, the two of them strode off to the stairs and, likely, the study above.
Raghnall’s two sons and granddaughter whom I didn’t know the name of followed as Nick, Cleo, and Paxon peeled off to go as well.
Luca, Milo, Isla, and I remained, though we knew we’d be called into the conversation soon enough.
“Are you alright?” I overheard Milo asking Isla.
“Me?” she scoffed. “You’re the one covered in blood, husband.”
The word was not uttered as a term of endearment but rather hissed through a grimace.
Milo noticed and frowned even more deeply.
Still, when he held out a hand, she took it.
The two of them made their way through the staring crowd of House Avus to the stairs which they ascended together, a united front of displayed unity more effective than anything we’d ever seen before.
“We should go,” Luca said beside me.
“I’m not holding your hand.”
He chuckled by my side as we stepped over shattered pottery and followed Milo and Isla to the study above.