Chapter 8
Penny stepped off her soldier's boots so abruptly she nearly stumbled.
She pointed toward the door.
Toward where the queen had vanished.
Her hands moved desperately.
Trying to explain.
Trying to make him understand.
The flower.
The frightened flower.
Save him.
The soldier's expression tightened.
He already understood.
His gaze lifted immediately to the throne.
The king followed the direction of Penny's pointing.
But by then the ballroom doors were already closing.
The queen was gone.
The king's smile vanished.
For the first time that evening, Penny saw something cold enter his face.
He summoned another vampire immediately.
A few quick words.
A sharp command.
The vampire bowed and disappeared after the queen.
Fast enough that Penny barely saw him move.
But the knot in her stomach refused to loosen.
The frightened look on the flower's face remained burned into her memory.
The king said something to her then.
Gentle.
Reassuring.
Penny understood none of it.
And for the first time since arriving in the kingdom, she wished she did.
Because she needed to know if the flower would be saved.
Or if she had just watched him disappear forever.
After that, the music felt wrong.
The food tasted like ash.
The laughter sounded hollow.
The ballroom's magic had broken.
The soldier exchanged a glance with the king.
Then held out his hand.
Penny accepted immediately.
The moment they stepped outside, cool sea wind wrapped around her.
Waves crashing against distant cliffs.
The vast dark ocean stretched beyond the palace.
The night sea air wrapped around her the moment they stepped onto the balcony.
Penny closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
The panic loosened slightly.
Not enough.
But enough to think.
Far below, waves shattered themselves against the cliffs.
Never surrendering.
The frightened flower's face lingered in her mind.
The look in his eyes.
The silent plea.
Help me.
Penny gripped the stone railing.
She had wanted the soldier to save him.
Had wanted the king to stop it.
Had wanted someone stronger to make everything right.
The thought made her chest ache.
Because she knew what it felt like to wait for rescue.
To hope someone would come.
Somewhere beyond the sea, her mother was still waiting.
Still believing Penny was alive.
Still listening to the water for news of her daughter.
The memory surfaced unexpectedly.
The sea gate.
Her song.
The message she had cast into the waves.
And the answer that had returned.
A petal.
A little bit of seawater.
A simple spell.
Not much.
Strengthened by sunlight.
But everything her mother could send.
Penny stared out over the dark ocean.
The sea had heard.
Her mother had answered.
Perhaps she had been foolish to stop believing the rest would work too.
Behind her, the ballroom slowly began to change.
Conversations softened.
Musicians packed away their instruments.
Flowers drifted back toward their companions.
Beyond the cliffs, the first pale hints of dawn touched the horizon.
The night was ending.
Penny barely noticed.
She remained leaning against the railing, listening to the waves.
Until a familiar warmth settled against the small of her back.
Her breath caught.
She turned.
The king stood before her.
One hand still resting lightly against her waist.
The other extended toward her.
Waiting.
The ballroom had fallen strangely quiet.
Everyone else stood back.
Watching.
Giving way.
The soldier met her eyes over the king's shoulder.
His smile was small.
Reassuring.
Everything is fine.
Penny wanted desperately to believe him.
She slipped her hand into the king's.
His gentle fingers closed around hers immediately.
The memory of the frightened flower flashed through her mind.
The look over his shoulder.
The silent plea for help.
Suddenly, Penny's heartbeat quickened.
Because the queen had taken a flower when the night ended.
And now the king was taking her.
As they crossed the ballroom, Penny noticed many of the other vampires leaving as well.
Flowers rested in their arms.
Some waved as they passed.
A few called cheerful farewells she couldn't understand.
Even the red-haired girl from the ship smiled and waved.
Penny found herself smiling back.
The reaction startled her.
At home she had always been ordinary.
A quiet witch.
Never the prettiest.
Never the most talented.
Never the sort of girl people gathered around.
Yet tonight an entire ballroom had listened when she sang.
People had sought her out.
Laughed with her.
Wanted to sit beside her.
The realization felt strangely wonderful.
And a little wicked.
She glanced up at the king.
He was already looking at her.
The expression on his face made her stomach flutter.
As though she were something precious.
Something worth celebrating.
His smile deepened when he caught her looking.
The castle grew quieter as they left the ballroom behind.
Music faded.
Laughter disappeared.
Soon, only the soft whisper of her skirts remained.
Then the king stopped.
Penny looked up.
A door stood before them.
Not crystal. Not part of the garden.
A real door. With a handle.
The king pushed it open.
Warm firelight spilled across polished stone.
An enormous bed waited beyond.
Penny froze.
The king's soothing arm remained around her.
He guided her forward.
But Penny's feet remained planted firmly where they were.
The king didn't seem to notice.
Or perhaps he simply assumed she was tired.
The moment the door shut behind them, he relaxed.
The formal jacket disappeared first.
He shrugged out of it and tossed it across a chair.
Then came the boots.
One.
Then the other.
Penny's eyes widened.
The king stretched slightly, looking infinitely more comfortable.
Penny looked infinitely less so.
By the time he glanced back toward her, she had retreated all the way to the door.
One hand searched desperately for the handle.
It refused to turn.
The king paused.
Confusion flickered across his face.
He said something.
The tone sounded gentle.
Questioning.
Penny pressed herself harder against the wood.
The king blinked.
Then slowly walked toward her.
Penny immediately abandoned the door.
She fled to the fireplace instead.
Heat rolled across her skin as she backed herself into the corner between stone and brick.
The king stopped again.
Now he looked genuinely puzzled.
As though the evening had taken a turn he had not expected.
He spoke patiently once more.
Penny understood none of it.
His hand lifted.
She flinched.
The touch never came.
Instead, his fingers brushed a loose curl away from her face.
The gesture was so gentle that it only confused her more.
The king smiled.
Then reached for the ribbons woven through her gown.
Penny's stomach dropped.
One ribbon loosened.
Then another.
And suddenly the entire dress pooled around her feet.
Penny shrieked and bent down and scooped up her gown, clutching it to her.
The king stood in front of her looking like a lonely boy who had saved a hurt bird, only to have the bird bite him.
One pale hand lifted, and Penny turned her face from him.
Carefully brushing loose strands of gold behind her ear to reveal the red ribbon still tied around her neck.
Then his fingers found the crimson ribbon at her throat.
The silk slipped free.
Pooling between them like spilled blood.
The king's fingers brushed over the mark he had left behind on her neck.
His mark.
Penny's stomach tightened.
The king whispered something softly.
He whispered the words again.
The same words.
Again.
And again.
And again.
His voice had dropped.
As though the words belonged to something far older than either of them.
Then he knelt.
His gaze never left her face.
Penny froze.
The king picked up the crimson ribbon reverently from the marble floor.
He wrapped it once around his wrist.
Then twice.
Then, taking her hand, wrapped the ribbon around her wrist.
His eyes never left hers.
She yanked and tried to pull free, but the ribbon held them together.
The words repeated over and over.
Penny recognized the cadence of old magic as the crones of her village chanted in circles while standing in the sea.
Magic way beyond her ability.
Like a vow spoken before an altar.
Like a promise being carved into stone.
Penny's stomach tightened.
The king looked nothing like the ruler from the ballroom.
Nothing like the predator from stories.
He looked almost...
hopeful.
The expression frightened her more than hunger ever had.
He took her their bound hands.
And pressed it gently against his chest.
No heartbeat greeted her.
Yet the king smiled as though she had touched something precious there.
Another string of earnest, devoted words followed.
His hand slid slowly down to her chin, lifting her face to his.
The words chanted one last time in the barest whisper against her lips.
Then he leaned closer.
Penny flinched.
Her face turned away before she could stop herself.
The king froze instantly.
The look that crossed his face made regret crash through her.
She had wanted him to kiss her in the ballroom.
Had begged for it with stolen magic.
Now the kiss was there.
Offered freely.
Yet every instinct inside her screamed not to move.
Because this did not feel like a kiss.
It felt like the final line of a spell she could not understand.
The ribbon bound their wrists together.
The old words still seemed to echo through the room.
And Penny suddenly knew one terrible thing.
If she let him finish whatever this was...
There would be no taking it back.