CHAPTER 11 #2
He bows his head before he flicks the gates open and ambles into the private garden, which I’m certain is stunning in the spring and summer. A grand fountain stands in the center of the meticulously curated horticulture.
“What a lovely garden,” Charlotte says, walking beside Nerian.
My wine-red gown drags along freshly fallen snow as we follow the king to the fountain he’s paused in front of.
“Not much farmland in a sitting garden, though,” Charlotte says as I glance around, wondering what we’re doing here and where the farm is.
“I don’t keep precious things in plain sight,” Nerian scolds her.
The king’s fangs pop, and he pierces his own finger, blood pooling on his skin. Nerian traces his blood along the goddess statue carved into the marble fountain.
I jerk to attention, Second tensing beside me as Nerian draws a swirling pattern.
My lip curls. It’s the same pattern Nerian absentmindedly drew on the tablecloth last night.
The spelled fountain unlocks under his blood.
The pattern is a key, and I play it over in my mind, memorizing it—just in case.
The marble splits down the center; a faint line I didn’t notice before pulls apart to reveal a wide stairwell, stone shining in the moonlight.
Underground we go again.
It’s intelligent, really. To hold so much where no one can see. Where no one knows to look. Much like the way I’ve done things.
King Nerian whisks himself down the steps, an eagerness moving his heels with purpose. His excitement spikes my unease.
The smell hits me first. The sharp tang of body odor and the metallic bite of blood.
Second stiffens beside me, Emmanuel curses, and Charlotte puffs her chest.
Del steps next to me, grabbing my arm with his gloved hand as Nerian hurries out of sight and earshot.
Emmanuel snaps, blade at Del’s throat, but his grip doesn’t loosen on my arm.
I wave my assassin off, and Em steps back as my gaze tracks from Del’s grip up to his eyes, which are now full of sorrow.
“Know that I don’t want this,” Del whispers harshly, our breath unfurling between us in the dreadful cold.
He spins before I can reply, cloak floating behind him, and I watch his tall, muscular form descend into nothingness.
“We can leave now,” Second growls, boots crunching in the snow as he steps to my side.
“I agree. We regroup and attack,” Emmanuel says.
I turn to face my family and shake my head. “I’m not prepared to gamble the lives of our people yet. I need to know more. I need certainty we can’t deal with this from the inside. There’s still opportunity for us to take Nerian out during this visit.”
Emmanuel and Second nod at me, but I can see the hesitation in their gazes.
I will always value their counsel. But I will listen to my gut first.
“Well, then, let’s get down there,” Charlotte says, voice sharp.
Second leads the way. My eyes adjust to the darkness as I clop down the steps.
At the bottom of the stairwell, Nerian and Del stand at another platform, their forms blocking whatever is below.
Del’s head shifts to the side, sensing our approach.
“Come, Veya!” Nerian invites excitedly.
I move to the ledge. Holding myself together, with all that I am, I stare out at the farm.
My breath leaves me as tears prick my eyes.
From the platform above, my gaze sweeps over hundreds of humans chained and prostrate, with skin ports fixed into arms and ribcages, blood spilling down tubes. Iron stifles the air as humans slowly drip their life force into carafe after carafe.
Second hisses beside me.
“I control all food sources in my kingdom,” Nerian begins.
“Those who can afford to drink from the vein can purchase something fresh, but that gets expensive for the general population and the army.” He leans over the railing, salivating.
“This could all be yours, my queen,” he brags.
“We’re set for life here. Nothing can touch us. We are power.”
I can’t find my breath. I can’t find my sanity.
Every dream will be haunted from this day forth. Every day I’ve stalled in taking this kingdom will haunt me, because with each sunset I saw, so many others were losing their lives, their freedoms, their mothers and fathers.
I had no idea it was this bad, that foulness to this extent existed here.
I sneak a glance at Del beside me. He’s pale and still. A statue of honed, gorgeous marble. Outside of a ticking jaw.
Prepare myself, indeed.
My eyes drag back to the suffering below.
And then a door to the left beside a row of beds flies open, and guards stream through, humans shuffling and stumbling in their grasps. Balor enters last, holding a young woman by her neck. Her cries pelt at me.
“Please, I beg you, sir!” she pleads.
Balor throws her to the ground at his feet, then kneels and slaps a cuff around her wrist. “Don’t fucking move, bitch.”
“Ah! Taxes are here!” Nerian screams, bouncing next to me.
I grip the railing beside Nerian, needing to balance myself against the horror as Balor glances up at the balcony and smiles at us.
“My king, a very good haul this month,” Balor says, and Nerian prances on his feet like a fucking child. “Besides this pain in my ass,” he says, viciously kicking the cuffed woman.
I feel the assault in my own gut.
Balor snatches up the woman, dragging her to an empty cot. “Lie down.”
She plants her feet and shakes her head.
Oh my gods, lie down. Buy yourself time.
Balor towers over her. “Lie. Down.”
Second shifts on his feet beside me, probably about as ready to jump over this railing as I am.
Nerian clicks his tongue. “Settle her!” he yells at Balor.
The general tosses the woman on the cot, but she grips the edge of the bedding and pulls herself quickly to the other side, crawling off.
Balor sighs at the ceiling as the woman scrambles toward the doorway, and Nerian starts to laugh, a joyful, amused cackle.
I want to punch the sound back into his mouth.
The general snaps to the woman, hand around her throat before she’s reached the door, and he glances up at Nerian. “Told you. Pain in my ass, this one.”
“They can’t all be winners,” Nerian drawls, hanging over the railing like he can’t get close enough to his new plunder. “Why don’t you enjoy a well-earned lunch then, General?”
No.
Balor’s eyes flash red, and his fangs drop. “That’s generous of you, my king, truly.”
Nerian waves him off and turns to me with a wide grin. “I’ve lost too many over the centuries by keeping them in the dungeons. This method has proven most successful. Wouldn’t you say?”
I watch Balor sink his fangs into the screaming woman and drain her.
After her screams fade into silence, I peel my gaze away and look at the king. His eyes are wild with hunger, expression euphoric with his addiction.
A tear I can’t control slips past my defenses.
My mission is set. We’re not leaving here until I free these people and Nerian is nothing but a bitter memory. We will end this.
Nothing will stop me.
“Oh dear, I’ve upset you,” he admonishes, swiping his own cheek to mimic my tears.
“No, it’s the most striking thing I’ve ever seen,” I say, forcing a steady and assured tone.
Nerian sighs, staring longingly below again before he looks me in the eye, gaze flashing red. “I know. And wouldn’t you say our assets are more aligned now?”
I hum at him in agreement, bottling my rage. “Is this where Christine came from?”
Nerian’s proud smile makes me nauseous as he tsks. “No, no. Special stock is kept elsewhere.”
Dread pools in my gut. “Let’s see that next,” I demand, mustering excitement into my tone.
Nerian runs a finger along the railing, gazing at his farm. “I’d love to show you the cellar. We will visit it later this evening.” His chin tilts toward me, and his red eyes spark. “First, I have an activity planned.”
Oh gods.
“Oh?” I ask.
A thud below catches my attention, and I swivel my focus as Balor walks away from the finished “meal” he’s tossed aside.
“I thought it best for you to get to know me, too, Veya,” Nerian begins.
You’re a monster, that’s who you fucking are.
Del moves toward the stairwell, and I don’t miss the disgust on his face behind his king. I force myself to pay attention, facing Nerian again and feigning interest. It feels like my body doesn’t even belong to me anymore with the performance I’m compelling myself to give.
Nerian leans casually on the railing, flipping his cloak over his shoulder.
His muscles flex under his suiting, and his mouth purses like I’m supposed to be drawn to his physique and his story.
“When I was human, I loved hunting my food. Deer hunting was my favorite. Would you like to reminisce with me today?”
The king’s eyes practically twinkle with his memories. I haven’t hunted in a long time, but whatever gets me into that cellar tonight, I’ll do.
“It’s been a while since I aimed a bow at a deer,” I confess, and Nerian chuckles softly.
“Oh, same for me. It’ll be fun, regardless—I promise. It’s a challenge in the night, finding them while they’re sleeping.”
I nod in acceptance.
He spins on his heel away from the farm, speeding up the stairwell. “Come, my dear! To the stables!”
With a final glance below, I stow my rage and horror, strapping it down tight, saving it for later. I straighten my shoulders with a deep breath and look up at Second. “We’re not leaving.”
Second’s gaze flicks to the farm. “I support that decision,” he snarls and whips around to lead the way to the surface.
Nerian and Del trot ahead on a cleared path, leading our party west of the castle toward a dense forest. Snow falls thickly, blurring my surroundings, and the only warmth is the animal underneath my sidesaddle as we trudge through the wintry storm.
Well, that and my enormous gown piled and draped around me, a sea of red in the moonlit white. And it’s not so commanding when it feels like I’m drowning in vulnerability.
Nerian didn’t even offer to let us change clothes before this hunting expedition.