Zedriel’s body falls with athudto the ground, crumpled on itself.
I clench my fist, and the orb dispels in my grasp, the last wisps hugging my hand before dissipating to finality, the last caress of Zedriel before he greets the Plains of Elmir.
Swallowing down an unshed cry, the shame in my throat searing, and walk toward the king.
I can’t look at them, at anyone who just witnessed my cursed magic.
Donning my mask and I shove any thought of Zedriel into the well that is quickly filling with memories.
Euron’s lips are pulled wide, his smile beaming at the devastation he’s just forced these people to witness. He eyes me, lowering his chin.
His lesson is loud and clear: I am not to disobey his command.
His hold on my collar burns as he sears in the reminder with his will.
It’s ravishing, ripping along my neck, though I dare not reveal that, especially as Alora watches on in horror.
“Well done, Kassiel.” King Euron’s praise is sickening. The way my body relaxes, grateful for the reprieve compared to the trespasses he’s committed against me.
I simply nod my head.
As I turn to leave, I glance at Alora, forced to forsake her with this monster. Her pupils are blown wide and her tear-rimmed eyes look like jewels in the darkness.
She is like a lamb surrounded by wolves.
Euron clings to her arm, not allowing a foot of space between them.
I blink and spin on my heel, marching.
Chapter 32
Alora
The clink of silverware meeting the fine china join a cacophony of shrill scraping as I glance around the expansive dining table in front of me. Ladies and Lords of the court feast in their richly colored garments.
The swath of maroon and red is almost choking. Everywhere I look, I see the same complacency written on their faces. They gulp down their wine and liquor, consume their food as if they hadn’t just witnessed someone being executed.
They smile and whisper in hushed tones of excitement and merriment, meanwhile I’m still reliving the moment Zedriel’sbody dropped to the ground. The way his limbs splayed outward, unnaturally turned.
I try to trace over the woman’s features seated directly across from me through blurry eyes. She wipes a drop of wine that falls from her mouth with her porcelain hand, her ruby lipstick smearing across her thin lips as she throws back her head in a haughty laugh.
Suddenly I feel more alone than ever. I’m surrounded by callousness wrapped in richness, indifference draped in opulence. It’s ugliness that is obscured by beautiful women and the grandeur of rooms.
The tingling returns to my fingers as I flex them beneath the tablecloth.
I let go of the breath I’d been holding. I swallow down the scream that seems to crack my chest open so I don’t alert King Euron, who sits to my left with his back turned to me.
Digging my nails into my palm, I look around the room again, eager to find Kassiel’s dark form. Panic ebbs under my skin when I can’t locate him.
I’ve worried my lip so much while sitting here as the moments tick by that blood tinges my tongue.
King Euron bellows with laughter and I see a few patrons raise their glass to salute him. I force myself to grab my untouched wine glass and raise it in his honor as well, attempting to blend in.
My body threatens to shake as I watch a server dab at spilled wine on the haughty lady’s dress with a gray napkin, once again I am reminded of the ashen color of Zedriel’s face as he lay there long after the crowd cleared. If I had to guess, his form is still abandoned in the courtyard left as a message to others, left to be trampled over.
Suddenly the doors on the far end of the room are pulled open. Two men walk towards the king, clothed similarly in their onyx trousers and waistcoat.
Kassiel.
