Chapter 38
Snow
The man held my arm firmly, but not painfully. Elil had brought him to me, telling me he was the son of an old family friend of my father’s.
I didn’t remember him.
No, that wasn’t right. There was something familiar about him. I knew him, but it wasn’t because he was the son of a family friend. I could not place him in my memories of my home.
‘Princess.’ The title sounded mocking on his tongue when he greeted me. Or maybe it wasn’t the way he said it, but rather the way he looked at me when he said it. There was a…smugness in the tilt of his lips and the glint in his eye.
I had dipped my eyes in acknowledgement but didn’t bow my head. This man was not a friend. I wasn’t sure if he was a foe, but I definitely knew that his being here with Elil made me suspect him.
‘Lord Breust will escort you to the altar,’ Elil said. ‘In place of your father.’
The grief over my father’s death came in waves. I was still under the influence of whatever drug or magic or trickery Elil had woven, so my emotions stayed contained, smothered by a thick blanket. Most of the time. My grief found cracks in the blanket at times, and the raw pain stabbed me. I didn’t let it show. I couldn’t. There would be time to break down later. For now, I needed to get through this next part and then escape. I had the years of princess training to fall back on, and those lessons were not easily forgotten. Muscle memory or conditioning, I didn’t know which, but I was thankful nonetheless.
My skin prickled where Breust touched me. I tried to ignore it. I could not let him know I was anything other than the obedient vassal they thought I had become. The locket warmed against my skin as if in solidarity.
We stepped into the throne room, and I was taken aback by the state of the people and decor. I had noticed that my suite was not as luxurious and rich as I’d first thought, but the state of the throne room was truly shocking. And the clothing of those gathered…did they not see it?
I kept my breathing even and a pleasant but distant smile on my face. I didn’t look around, keeping my eyes forward, but I used my peripheral vision to scan the crowd. I didn’t know who I was looking for—the woman maybe. Yes, it was definitely her I was looking for.
‘I must say,’ Breust mumbled beside me. ‘It is good to see you cowed like this.’
I didn’t know if he was talking to himself or if he intended for me to hear him. Was he looking for a reaction? Was he testing me?
I kept silent as he led me forward. Our steps were measured and slow. Elil wanted everyone to see me in all my splendour. My gown was so drastically different in quality than those that surrounded me. What did these people see when they looked at me? The outward display of wealth sickened me. The gaunt faces and bodies of the people told me they were starving, and yet here was Elil, parading me in front of them in a gown worth more money than it would take to feed them. I felt sick.
‘My only regret,’ Breust went on, oblivious to my internal thoughts, ‘is that Parisar can’t see you now.’
Parisar.
The name ricocheted through me causing me to stumble. Breust paused and looked at me, scanning my face for recognition, but I kept it blank…or at least I hoped I did.
‘My shoe,’ I said. ‘My shoe has come loose.’
Breust hesitated before looking toward Elil. The prince frowned in question, and Breust started walking again. I limped beside him, attempting to imitate a loose shoe. Breust’s grip on me tightened. I didn’t know if it was to keep me from falling or because he didn’t trust me. Either way, I couldn’t do anything until he released me. Not that I knew what I was going to do. I had weapons, but I didn’t know how to use them. I was just hoping the woman who had given them to me had a plan.
All these thoughts raced around in my head, but over all of it was the beat of the name Breust had spoken.
Parisar.
It was in my heartbeat. It was in the pounding of my blood.
Parisar. Parisar. Parisar.
The locket pulsed with his name, and my body thrummed to life. The thick blanket that had been thrown over me was pulled away with such suddenness that it was only by sheer force of will that I did not crumple to the ground.
No, I did not remember everything, but I remembered him. I remembered our childhood. I remembered our falling out. I remembered our kiss and the way he looked at me and…
Parisar.
I wanted to look around. I wanted to find him in the crowd. I knew he was here. Breust was under the impression Parisar could not see this moment, but I could feel him. He was here, and I desperately wanted to see him.
But I kept my face forward and my eyes on Elil. The man I once thought was the most beautiful thing in the world. He no longer looked beautiful to me. The glamour he’d worn was gone, or at least, I could now see through it. Like scales falling from my eyes, I could see the truth. Elil was not the man I was supposed to marry. He was my enemy.
I gripped the handle of the knife in my hand. I wanted to vent my rage on him. He had killed my father. He had discredited and imprisoned my mother. He had poisoned me and kidnapped me. He would pay.
Elil took my hand and helped me to step up onto the platform beside him. He smiled at me, and it turned my stomach. How had I ever thought this man was beautiful? The crown on his head winked and sparkled, trying to catch my attention, but I refused to look at it. Instead, I made myself look at him, at the man who fancied himself my future husband, at the man who was trying to steal my kingdom.
Prince Elil of Querencia.
How much of his machinations were prompted by his father? I wanted to look at the king who sat behind the officiant and watched the proceedings. I wanted to see the look on his face. Did he have the same vacant stare as the rest of the people, or was he the orchestrator of this tragedy?
But I couldn’t look away from Elil. Not because he had captured me in his thrall once again. No. I looked at Elil because I needed him to believe I was still under his spell. I needed him to have no doubt and no cause to suspect me.
The knives in my sleeves twitched. They were as eager as I was to kill the man in front of me.
Elil spoke the words, repeating after the officiant, but I didn’t hear them. It was nothing but white noise as I waited for my chance. The only word I heard was the name. Parisar. It circled my head until it felt like there were no other words. If I opened my mouth, I’m sure the only word I could say would be Parisar.
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. It was her. The woman who had given me the knives. She winked at me. It was a sign. Whatever was going to happen, would happen now.
The world went black.
Well, the room went black.
I didn’t hesitate, drawing my knives and slashing at Elil in one movement. When had I learned to do that? Maybe it was born of desperation. Warm and wet, his blood splashed on me, and it gave me a deep sense of satisfaction.
The crowd cried out in confusion—not at what I had done. It was their delayed response to the blackout. I couldn’t see anything, and I didn’t know if I had killed Elil or just scratched him. I didn’t care. I wanted to kill him, but I also knew I had to escape while I could.
I was grabbed from behind, and I struggled to get away, but then there was a soft breath on my neck and a whisper in my ear, ‘Snow. It’s me.’
I allowed myself to go slack and let him drag me off the podium into the panicking crowd. I didn’t stop to ask questions, although I had so many to ask. He put my feet down and threw a cloak over me. The dress I wore was far too recognisable and confining.
‘Wait,’ I said, and he stopped.
I bent over and with the knives I still clutched in my fists, I cut the dress, removing the bottom half of the skirt and the petticoats underneath to give me more movement. The freedom of just pantaloons was familiar, but I didn’t stop to explore the sensation. We were moving again.
There was an inhuman scream from behind me. The guards were shouting. The clang of metal rang through the room. Sound and movement and the press of bodies were all around us, but Parisar kept moving. He had a plan, and I trusted him.
His path twisted and turned. We had escaped the throne room and entered the dim corridors that I assumed only servants traversed. We met no one as we fled. I didn’t know where the woman was. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t have enough breath in my lungs.
Downstairs, through wooden doors, and into a tunnel. Eventually, we stopped for a breath. The scrape of a shoe on the stone floor had me turning and raising my knives. The woman sauntered toward us, a smirk on her face.
‘Nice,’ she said, her voice thick with admiration. ‘You did good, Princess.’
‘The others?’ Parisar asked.
I turned then, taking my first look at the man I had forgotten. How had I forgotten him when he had been carved so deeply into my heart?
His face was different to the one in my returned memories. He was thinner, desperately so. His beard was long, as was his hair. And his eyes…his eyes were hard.
‘Parisar,’ I whispered.
He looked at me then, abandoning his conversation with the woman.
‘Snow,’ he said as he reached for me and pulled me into his arms.
He kissed me then. It was hard and rough and desperate and I returned it, matching everything he felt.
‘Can we do that later?’ the woman said. ‘We’re not out of this hell yet.’
Parisar broke the kiss reluctantly and looked down at me for a long moment before lifting his eyes to the woman.
‘You couldn’t give us a moment, Tain?’ he asked, and there was the faint echo of a smile to his lips.
I knew that smile.
I knew this man.
The world tilted, and the edges of my vision began to grey.
‘Snow,’ he said, the concern in his voice snapping me back to the present.
‘I’m okay,’ I replied, bending over and taking a deep breath. ‘I’m okay.’
‘Then let’s get moving,’ Tain said.
Yes. Tain. I knew her too.
‘The others are waiting for us.’
The others? I knew them too. I couldn’t see them in my mind’s eye because my memories were still clouded. But still, I knew them.
‘Breust,’ I said suddenly, horrified.
Parisar paused to look at me, and the pain on his face stabbed a dagger into my heart.
‘Breust poisoned me.’
Tain swore, and Parisar paled.
‘We know,’ he said, his voice tight.
‘That’s why I put several arrows into him,’ Tain replied before heading off down the tunnel without looking back.