I continue, “Your king traded your lives for sex. He let a snake in. She poisoned you all, and then he allowed her to slither away.” I twist my wrist, still bound by his vines. I refuse to let him see my irritation, so I’ve been wearing it like bracelets.
“It was a failed attempt.” Galen’s reply is water on fire. He thinks it quells Jonas’s fears, but smoke has a strong scent. It will spread to every nook and cranny of the kingdom.
Galen’s hand drifts up like a kite searching for a cloud, only he seeks the comfort of his crown.
“Jonas,” he barks, “I want a feast planned for tonight. I want them all to see I am not scared of idle threats.”
“Did you hear that, Jonas? The poisoning of his men isidle. My father would have considered it a personal attack,” I taunt.
The space between Galen and me vanishes. He grazes his lips over mine, allowing the tip of his fang to touch my skin. “Careful, dearest wife. In times of war, morals grow thin. If I have to sew your mouth shut, I will.” He attempts to kiss me, but I jerk back.
“You forget how razor-edged my tongue is.” I trace my tongue across my bottom lip. “Stitch me shut. I. Dare. You.”
His throat bobs as he gulps. The tension in the air is so thick I forgo inhaling and continue till the last drop of air has fled from my lungs.
“I shall free myself,” I continue. “Cut free everything you have done. Then what will you do? I’ll tell you,” I lift my chin higher. “You will stand in a corner with nothing but a needle and no more thread as a pair of sharp scissors comes for you.”
My gaze drops to his hands. I shake my head in disappointment. “You forget your hands are those of a child; children shouldn't play with scissors, Galen,” I mock. “Did mommy and daddy dearest never tell you that? One might think they wanted you to get hurt.”
He pushes back without replying, turning like a door on oiled hinges, then climbs the stairs.
“Your Majesty, if I may,” Jonas interrupts the silence of our climb, “word has spread to the nobles about the poison. A feast might not be wise.”He states once we reach the third-floor landing.
I spot my door, and the ache in my feet internally screams for my bed.
The rhythm of Galen’s footsteps turns into a sharp violin. He reaches for his crown, then turns. Darkness flies past my face. I gasp, jerking back just in time to avoid being caught in the crosshairs. Galen’s vines fly forward, grabbing Jonas as a gardener does a weed.
“You forget, Jonas, that you do not deserve an opinion.” The vines grow, wrapping, binding, and squeezing until Jonas can’t help but yelp in agony.
I twist the vines binding my wrist; each twist is a protest from my throbbing bones. I lean into the pain, using it as fuel until my binds snap free.
Air rushes between my lips when I peer at Galen. A thick vine curls around Jonas’s neck, digging into his skin so tight I can see his pulse throbbing, beating against it. That’s when Jonas and I realize Galen isn’t stopping.
Killing his most trusted guard works in my favor. I won’t have to sell Galen’s madness; he’s doing it himself.
Jonas’s magic erupts in an angry explosion of wind. The floor rushes to meet me; a sharp bang sinks into my skull from the impact. Any stars I would have seen are blown away as Jonas continues to fight.
Howling cries echo through the hall as his wind finds no escape, so it swirls in circular currents, churning my balance into tidal waves I can’t stand against. A burning sensation spreads over any exposed skin. I curl into myself until I can see a break to fight.
Clatter!Metal hits stones. The winds stop.
Galen’s crown, his most prized possession, falls to the ground.
A small symbol of how easily a king can be pushed over.
Roar!
Jonas uses our shock as his opening. The impact sends me rolling down the hall like an apple along a table. Galenremainsconnected to Jonas by the thick vines. His grunts reach my ears, but he holds firm to his magic like reins of a horse.
The scraping of metal on stone pulls the crown nearer. I peer at the crown, ignoring the burning rawness of the wind as it smacks against my eyes. More vines erupt as Galen roars; they block the wind from assaulting me.
I wish I hadn’t looked. I watch in grotesque horror as a vine invades Jonas’s nose and mouth, suffocating him.
My palms flatten onto the floor as I prepare to stand. My chin presses painfully into the stone.Close your eyes; don’t watch this.
I can’t look away.
I know precisely when the vines reach Jonas’s heart. His complexion turns to porcelain. There is no coming back from that. The heart is the most vital organ, and if it’s damaged, you’re dead.
