16. Keira
A ldrin died today. He actually died .
I thought my heart would stop along with his.
I lost the will to live. Those moments of pure agony—I still can’t shake the intensity of them.
Echoes crash over me like waves as my mind reels, each one amplified by the last. The reality of what happened hits me hard now that the shock of the moment has faded.
Now that he is no longer being threatened and the current calm allows all the trauma to flood in.
I collapse onto the floor of the bedroom, my legs giving out beneath me. I tuck them up against my chest protectively and curl into the side of the bed as violent tremors ripple through me. My throat closes like a vise is wrapped around it.
I can’t drag in air.
A wheezing sound escapes me instead.
I am flooded with the sensation of his breaths becoming shallower and shallower until they stopped completely.
Of the way his muscles burned and his brain screamed from oxygen deprivation, alongside the agony of the poison tearing at his body.
I press my face into my hands, but all I see is his vision slowly turning black as Belladonna peered into his eyes, her lips as dark as midnight.
My mind conjures up images of his lifeless body strewn across the mats of the fighting arena, and I break down completely.
I choke and gasp as I scream my sobs, the sound tortured even to my own ears, and I am forced to shove the bedding against my face to mute it. The last thing I need is for my enemies to find me this vulnerable.
My voice echoes around the chamber regardless.
Hot tears burn down my cheeks, the salt of them searing my eyes. My heart will surely explode with this anguish, because I can’t seem to stop revisiting the moment of his death.
The night passes slowly, but I am frozen in place and time, unable to move forward. The violent shakes of my body recede until they are replaced by hiccups. My streaming tears dry up; I have none left to shed. I am completely alone, in the heart of enemy territory.
Except he is here with me.
Don’t grieve me while I still live, dear heart, Aldrin repeats again and again, so gentle and full of love.
He sits on the ground beside me, arms wrapped around my frozen body, even though he is so far away.
He apologizes so many times for the things I have had to witness during these trials, but he is the one who has had to live them. I should be comforting him.
Don’t fret for me, Keira. I have endured worse.
Those words don’t make me feel any better. I don’t sleep a single wink, even long after the sobs have passed. I stare vacantly into space, and Aldrin speaks softly to me through the entire night. He needs this closeness between us as much as I do.
It isn’t until the sun rises that I pass out, then wake almost at sunset.
Basil watches me with consternation as I attempt to eat the small feast he has laid out for my dinner.
I am still so unnerved that I drop my fork for what must be the fifth time.
It clatters loudly to the table, and I make more noise as I try to pick it up with shaking hands.
I can hardly bear to look at all this food, much less eat.
“Is everything okay, my queen?” Basil frowns down at me, but his tone is gentle. “Is the food to your liking?”
I hardly register his words. My entire body feels so numb, my mind disconnected from it.
“My queen?” Basil leans down to peer into my face from across the table.
“Yes,” I say a little too quickly. “Yes. The food is adequate.”
“Adequate?” He raises his eyebrows, but his tone remains politely neutral. “Shall I ask the kitchen to prepare something else?”
“No. No. It’s not the food.” I run my hands down my face. “I received a shock yesterday. Aldrin—he—it’s hard to be apart,” I finish weakly.
I almost trusted this man, who has been Aldrin’s personal servant since he was a boy. Gods, I have no idea who will betray me in this viper’s den, and it is exhausting to be constantly on guard.
“You truly are Aldrin’s mate, is that correct?” Basil asks and I nod absentmindedly. “Can you speak with him across this distance? Do you know where he is and if he is alive? Safe?” His voice breaks the slightest bit.
The words escape me.“He lives. He is not safe, but he is surviving.”
Basil turns away, dabbing a handkerchief to his eyes. “And it is true that you surrendered yourself to his enemies to save him?”
“Of course I did,” I half whisper.
“Would you go to any lengths for him? To regain his throne with him?” An intensity fills his voice as he stands over me. “Would you die for him? Place yourself in the worst kind of danger for him? Would you go to war for him?”
“Yes. There is nothing, nothing , I wouldn’t do for him.”
“That is what the spy master said, but I needed to hear it for myself,” Basil murmurs.
“And what would you do for Aldrin?” I ask.
“I am doing much to pave the way for his return. You will see that shortly.” He turns on his heel and strides into my bedchamber, returning a few moments later carrying a cloak trimmed in soft fur.
Basil pulls a silver pocket watch from his brocade vest, checks the time, then snaps it shut again.
“If you will, my queen, the meeting will begin soon.”
My mind scrambles to work out what he is speaking of. I dumbly allow him to put the cloak on me and draw up the hood. “I am not aware of any meeting.”
“This way, please. Follow me.” Basil leads me toward the servants’ entrance in the kitchen.
I have thirty seconds to decide if I trust him, or if this is a trap. For all I know, he could be leading me straight to Torin, to be charged with treason. But I am here to take risks, and this man, with his lifelong affection for Aldrin, seems my best bet.
He leads me out of my chambers and through back corridors.
The space is dimly lit, with a polished stone floor and unadorned walls.
There are servants scurrying in both directions and I pull my hood tighter.
They make an effort to pretend not to see me, many turning their heads in the opposite direction or looking at the ground as they pass.
I wonder if it is a common occurrence for nobles to sneak through their passageways to travel the palace unnoticed by their own class.
I almost feel like I am doing the wrong thing, even though it has been days since Florian took me to my rooms instead of the dungeon and told me to stay put. No one in Titania’s court expects me to be locked away down there any longer.
Basil opens the door to a large supply cupboard and pulls me in, locking it behind us.
He rolls a set of shelving holding linen to the side and reveals a small passageway behind.
I peer into its murky depths. Apprehension makes my skin crawl.
He could be taking me anywhere, in a new kind of cruel torment devised just for me.
This could lead straight to a deprivation cell.
To some unique betrayal after gaining my trust.
I turn back to Basil as he lights multiple fire orbs to illuminate a staircase leading down into the bowels of the palace.
“Where exactly are you taking me?” I ask. “I’m not sure I want to go down there.”
“Trust me, my queen, you do.” He walks through, then holds out a hand for me, his eyebrows pinching as I hesitate to take it. “If I wanted to trick, trap or poison you, I could have done it a hundred times over by now. I am loyal to Aldrin, and by extension, to you. Now come.”
I reach out to Aldrin, because I need his reassurance. I hate how suspicious and unsure this place has made me. He is negotiating the finer details of his alliance with the Starlight King and the Assassins of Belladonna.
Trust Basil, he murmurs. Those are the royal escape passageways. They are a well-guarded secret. Only my closest few know about them, and it would be an ideal place for any resistance against Titania to meet.
I take Basil’s hand and follow him into the darkness.
It is suffocating in here. The brick masonry walls are tight around us and thick dust hangs in the stagnant air, the motes shimmering in the orb light. We travel down and down, and the temperature gradually drops.
A mosaic of roots each as thick as my little finger snake across the walls, penetrating in and out of the mortar.
The stone is slick with moisture, and in many places it drips from the ceiling.
I caress the fleshy appendages of the tree and they seem to vibrate under my touch, glowing faintly. Magic thrums through them.
Basil stops and gives me the most peculiar look. “If I didn’t believe you were his mate before, that would be all the evidence I need. You truly are the Queen of the Spring Court.”
I glance between him and the roots that have returned to their dull state. I could have imagined it. “What did I do?”
Basil runs his fingers across one side of his neatly groomed mustache, readjusting the slight curl at the end.
“This entire palace is built upon the scaffold of an immense tree, but only the royal family can connect with it or control it. The reaction it just had to you means the tree chooses you as well.”
My mind flies back to when that Assassin of Belladonna tried to kill Aldrin in his sleep, and the branches of this tree literally tore out of the walls under his command.
He said the assassin must have been truly desperate, to fight him in his own palace.
No wonder Titania was so nervous when he returned.
She must believe me too powerless to touch the tree.
We continue our descent until the staircase lands in a small room with four doors leading off it.
Basil selects one, taking us down another long staircase that hugs the wall of a cavern with a great crashing waterfall and a rapidly rushing stream.
Branches of the ancient wisteria tree grow into the walls here and sprays of lilac blooms hang from them.