Chapter Twenty-Nine – Scarlett
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Scarlett
‘You let the Volaris bitch escape,’ Roran said coldly from a few metres away. ‘That was a poor choice to make.’
I raised my head to glare at my brother. ‘It wasn’t just Mira. She had the Council of Ancients on her side–’
‘I gave you three hundred Warriors. Three hundred magically enhanced, battle-hardened Warriors .’
General Harte backhanded me across the face with his gloved fist, and I spat blood onto the tiles, bracing my bound hands against the stone floor. ‘The shifters have magic too,’ I forced out. ‘In their beast form, they’re so strong that they smashed right through our lines. Like battering rams.’
Roran levelled me with a dangerous stare.
If he suspected that I had let Mira go, he would allow General Harte to kill me here and now.
But my loyal Warriors had already backed up my explanation under torture: that we had been met with overwhelming resistance and had been forced to flee for our survival.
Still, it didn’t matter if Roran believed me. He didn’t accept failure well.
I watched his gaze shift to General Harte and I tensed, anticipating whatever punishment he might give.
‘This is still a victory,’ I quickly reminded Roran. ‘The shifters have been decimated and their village destroyed. They will be even less inclined to accept Mira’s leadership now.’
‘For your sake, you had better hope so,’ Roran said, his voice filled with cold threat.
‘Because if Kasmira becomes clan leader, I will feed Lillian to Titus. And once Aric watches his sister die – permanently , this time – I will do the same to him. It might be entertaining to watch you beg for his life.’
‘It won’t come to that,’ I said with a confidence I didn’t feel. ‘Mira will fail, and when she returns to the Temple in disgrace, we can use the division amongst the clans to weaken her politically. Once she’s isolated from her allies, we can turn our attention to ending her–’
Roran slammed the model of a ship down on the ornate table in his war room. Then he picked up a dagger and advanced on me. ‘I spared your life so that you could kill Kasmira. If you can’t do that, what use are you?’
‘I can return to the Wilds–’
‘You expect me to send you back there after you allowed her to destroy almost three hundred of my best fighters? To humiliate me?’ Roran’s fingers twitched in a way that made me suspect he was debating whether to wrap them around my throat.
At Roran’s glance, General Harte twisted my wrist and–
This time, I couldn’t stay on my knees. I fell forward, and for a few seconds I was blinded by the pain. But I didn’t scream. Not even as a healer reset the bones in my wrist.
I felt the agony of each one shifting back into place. I clamped my mouth shut, refusing to release so much as a whimper.
When the healer helped me into my previous kneeling position, my expression was as cold as the stone beneath me. Roran followed the movement of the death magic I could feel swirling impotently in my veins.
‘I can kill Kasmira,’ I told my brother, ignoring his faint smile. ‘And I will. I still have time.’
‘You have three weeks.’ Roran’s voice was the bite of steel, but General Harte’s fist didn’t meet my face.
I took advantage of the brief respite to glance at the figurines on the table – miniature versions of real military resources. Unfortunately, my position on my knees meant that I couldn’t make out the whole picture.
‘Interested in my plans, are you?’ Roran’s focus returned to me – precisely what I had hoped to avoid.
‘ Our plans,’ I corrected him. ‘I signed your deal; our interests are now aligned.’
‘I suppose they are.’ Roran crouched in front of me.
It was the closest he’d dared come since my arrival, and I doubted he would have done it if my hands were unbound.
‘But you should remember that you’re only alive as long as you’re useful.
If the Council of Ancients give Kasmira their blessing, your punishment will be to watch Aric and Lillian die.
But if someone else succeeds in killing Mira before you do .
. . well, then I’ll have no more use for you . ’
He motioned to General Harte, who hauled me roughly to my feet.
Roran stood as well. Though he was still taller than me, he no longer towered over me like he once had.
‘I failed to kill you when you were younger, Scarlett,’ he said in a low voice, ‘but I wasn’t really trying then; terrorising you was just enjoyable.
But now . . .’ He leant in, almost close enough for our skin to touch, but not quite.
‘You’ve finally succeeded in capturing my full, undivided attention.
And if you fail me again, next time I will make you wish for death. ’
Perhaps I should have felt afraid. But Roran had made a mistake, keeping me alive. I might not be able to kill him personally, but I would find a way of destroying him – and when I did, he wouldn’t die quickly.
‘It looks worse than it is,’ I told Lillian, whose fingers hovered inches from my bruised cheekbone.
‘What did Roran want from you?’ she asked as she applied cosmetics to my skin, taking over Aella’s usual role. There was an edge to her voice that made me wonder what she had felt through our bond. Whatever it was, I doubted that she could suspect the truth.
‘Roran has decided to keep me alive, so long as I prove useful to him. But I’m more concerned about you.’
‘I’m fine,’ Lillian said with a soft smile. ‘No one even visited my chambers while you and Aric were gone.’
I wasn’t convinced by her assurances. A few days ago, Lillian had witnessed General Harte maim her brother – and then she had been forced to stitch up the bloody mess he had made of Aric’s face.
I might not be able to sense her feelings, but she had been exposed to too much blood and violence for it not to take a toll.
Lillian dusted some powder lightly across my cheeks and then set down the brush. After casting a furtive glance at the door, she met my gaze. Her blue eyes were filled with surprising resolve.
‘Earlier,’ she whispered, ‘Aric told me that you let Mira escape. How did she seem to you?’
‘How did she seem ?’
‘I mean . . .’ The brush stilled in Lillian’s hand. ‘Was she unharmed?’
That was clearly the least of what Lillian wanted to ask. Her concern and longing for her friend was obvious. Even after Mira’s apparent betrayal, Lillian still loved her. Would she feel the same about me, if she knew the truth? Was such a thing even possible?
I angled my head away from her. None of this was Lillian’s fault, but I was suddenly furious with her for making me feel this way – for making me feel at all. I couldn’t afford to feel. Not when it gave Roran yet another weapon against me.
‘She seemed healthy enough,’ I replied, my voice carefully level. Not mentioning the death magic I had used on her – or the dagger she had held to my throat.
A glance in the mirror showed me that the thin red line still lingered. A reminder of just how eager she had been to end my life.
The hope in Lillian’s voice was difficult to hear as she asked, ‘Do you think you’ll be able to beat him? Roran?’
‘I’ll find a way to make Roran pay,’ I vowed.
Shadows entered Lillian’s eyes, and I knew that she was envisioning the many ways she wanted to make Roran suffer.
Vengeance was an emotion I was intimately acquainted with. But seeing it in Lillian’s face . . .
I touched the back of her hand with cautious fingers. ‘Try not to think about Roran. He corrupts everything within his reach; don’t let his darkness corrupt you, too.’
I watched her until she had left my chambers, drumming my fingernails against the vanity table as I cast an eye over the grand chambers my brother had assigned me. The same ones I had stayed in during previous visits to Kalure.
Including the visit when Roran had tried to drown me.
My gaze drifted to the frost-covered windows, which overlooked a frozen lake. A chill darted down my spine at the sight of it. I could never forget that lake; it haunted my dreams, my memories. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw that startling ice-blue water reflected in my eyes.
A knock sounded on the door. Not General Harte, then – he wouldn’t have bothered.
I crossed the stone floor, barely sparing a glance for the austere furniture.
When my father had ordered the Kalurian palace rebuilt, he hadn’t bothered to imitate the original.
Instead, he had stripped everything back, as though he was emulating one of his military campaigns.
No wonder Roran seemed so comfortable here.
His generosity was a show, of course – assigning me my old chambers, instructing Lillian to disguise my bruises, inviting me to tonight’s banquet . . . it was all a pretence of civility before the inevitable, bloody ending.
Aric opened the door. I started to hurry towards him, but he shook his head, indicating that he wasn’t alone.
‘Your Highness,’ Aric said with uncharacteristic formality, offering me his arm. I took it with a curt nod.
Warriors were stationed in the grey corridor. They bowed their heads at my approach, and I took note of their locations and numbers, even as my sense of hopelessness increased.
The impossibility of escape became even more pronounced when I reached the great hall, which was just as imposing as I remembered.
My eyes lingered on the stone thrones my father and stepmother had once occupied, then rose to take in the life-sized sculptures spanning the space – the ancient Northern kings that my father had admired.
Each armed and poised to deliver a fatal blow to an invisible enemy.
Passing between them, I turned my attention to the main wooden table, filled with Roran’s favoured Warriors and generals. There were even some Kalurians in attendance – the privileged few that Roran was prepared to indulge and reward, so long as they proved useful.