Elysia stared, startled at the depth of emotion behind his speech. He was claiming her, protecting her—but why? What was the point? She was living on borrowed time. Time she was borrowing from him and her father, both.
It made her want to reach for his secrets, but she didn’t dare. Her curse had already given her a gift in letting her know that he couldn’t be trusted. Trying to read him any further was pointless.
Not that she could read him with any skill, anyway. Her magic was temperamental, untrained and acting according to its own will half the time. She was better than she used to be, but in a kingdom where magic was dead, her gift was erratic at best, showing up and giving out at the most inopportune times.
If she could go back in time, she should have tried to read him long ago, but she hadn’t known then what was coming. She’d had no idea that she would stand here, shocked at his support and wondering about his motives and plans. It might make her naive, stupid even, but she had wanted their love to be real so badly she had left his secrets untouched. Sentimental and foolish, she had always left the business of anyone important to her alone the best she could.
She might go digging through everyone else’s trash, but then there were the few people she illogically and deeply wanted to be able to trust. It had always felt like a line. Invisible, but solid. And crossing it would have meant admitting there wasn’t a single person in her life who was safe.
Her father shook her, snapping her attention to him. His large palms swallowed her shoulders, grip tight and angry. His always loud voice felt like it was too much in this room, crashing over her, causing her to shrink and close her eyes.
Eyes closed, she didn’t see it coming. His hand cracked against the side of her face like he could shatter it. Before she could absorb the blow, he was grabbing the back of her already sore neck. Yanking her head back, pulling strands of hair as he did. His voice was a barely contained bellow. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
Lashes wet with pain, her spine arched unnaturally, arms clamoring to take hold of something, anything, so she didn’t collapse. She stared back at her father, embarrassment flooding her. He’d never done this in front of anyone before. She didn’t want Topp to see her like this, to know this part of her—weak, useless, afraid. She could see him in the corner of her eye, moving and instantly being held back by his father.
Voice lowering, her father’s tone was scathing. “Alone with Scarzan? Are you not any better than a stupid whore? Did I not raise you in every meeting and every court function I possibly could, so that you would know exactly who and what you would be dealing with?” Tears ran freely now, the room narrowing to only her and him. A dull, heavy throb pulsed in her ears.
Her father released her, throwing her down to the ground. Twisting, her knees and hips hit the cold floor hard, pain ricocheting through her bones. She pulled herself up, knees folded and hands pressed to the floor. Eyes glassy, she looked up at him, fighting for even a scrap of defiance, but much like her pride, it was nowhere to be found.
Jack gripped the door, and the wood groaned. “Do you really think anyone will still respect you now? I thought you were smarter than this.” A muscle in his temple jumped. His disgust was palpable, but she didn’t look away.
And then he was gone.
Elysia remained a statue on the floor. It shouldn’t hurt. After all these years, she should be impervious to the pain. But his words found every weak spot and chink in her armor, seeping in through the spots made thin from years of abuse. The prince and the king were still there, but she wasn’t listening.
He didn’t even ask.The thought looped. He didn’t ask what happened. He didn’t ask if she was okay. Because it didn’t matter—shedidn’t matter.
He hadn’t balked at the bruises forming on her neck. He had given her new ones, a matching set. A nasty voice that sounded like the truth reminded her of what she had done. Going to the House. Getting lost in her curse and betting herself off.This is my fault.The tulle of her dress scratched at her skin. And she couldn’t forget all the lives she’d taken. How high was that number now?This really is what I deserve.
Gentle fingers brushed over her hair, coming to rest silently against her head. The side of him pressed up against her, and her own hand wound around his ankle, latching onto him without thinking. His thumb stroked against her hair, but Topp’s gaze was on his father.
The king looked tired. It was easy to forget he was getting older, but right now it showed. He looked like a man who knew his age and was suddenly afraid his heir wasn’t up to the task. That his legacy would die when he did. His eyes flicked to Elysia, shaken and small on the floor, then to Topp beside her.
His eyes were distant in thought. “You’re a grown man. If you say you were defending the girl, then that is the story we will tell. Scarzan’s reputation precedes him. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. The Bellians will only be angry that they didn’t get to serve justice themselves.”
And just like that, Topp’s word was enough to fend off what could have been a political nightmare. Dimly, Elysia thought that must be nice, to have that kind of power.
Crisis averted, Garrison drew himself up to his full height, seeming to shake off the moment of bleak prescience. He walked to the door, pausing before he left. His hand made a soft slap against the stone wall and he looked at Topp, his eyes never straying back to Elysia. “Make sure the medics take a look at her neck.”
He had one foot out the door when the screaming began.
Chapter 20
Screams,shouts, curses.
They all echoed with a vengeance out of the ballroom and into the halls. In the distance, the Relaclave city bell began ringing. Three heavy pulls on the rope, the hammer of the bell swinging in response. One long pause, then three more deafening peals laying waste to the security of the Crown.
Elysia scrambled to her feet, the tulle of her dress ripping in the process. She could feel the vibration of stampeding feet out in the hallway—likely the guards rushing to find the king.Time for me to go.
There was only one reason this specific bell pattern was ever engaged. It wasn’t the mellow noontime chime that happened daily or the merry ring of celebration. It was sharp and deliberate, meant to catch every ear and turn every face to the castle.
Treason was afoot within the city. The Crown was under attack.
Within minutes, the entrances to the castle would be sealed, and no one would be exiting or entering.
Garrison pulled out a long, thin dagger from inside his black and red jacket. He looked down the hall into the eye of thehurricane, then back to Topp. “Do something with her. Her head’s not on right and we don’t need her getting trampled. Then find me.”
The sound of groans and retching overtook the screams. Elysia grimaced, knowing the worst was yet to come. Mouth set in determination, the king walked out the door, when suddenly he clutched his own stomach, his back rounding as he let out a throaty grunt. A look of confusion marred his face. But there wasn’t time for questions, not when the treason bells were ringing. Straightening, he barreled down the hall and out of sight.
