Don’t look away, I said.The entertainment’s about to become as delicious as the brission.
Horcrest started gagging.
My uncle lowered his fork onto his plate, though he wisely said nothing. Ivenrail appeared oblivious to what was happening at his dining room table.
The woman sitting two places down on Horcrest’s right kept eating—for a short time. Then her fork paused halfway to her mouth.
When Horcrest keeled forward, his face landing in his partly finished bowl of stew, she dropped her fork and punctuated the clatter with a shriek.
Others amplified the sound, their cries echoing in the dining room while servants rushed around the table to yank Horcrest out of his bowl. Brown liquid dripped down his pale face as his head lolled on his shoulders.
The woman kept shrieking, reeling away from Horcrest until the king lifted his arm. Her screaming didn’t come to a halt because he’d commanded it with the gesture but because he’d cut off her air. Her hands rose to encircle her throat, and if she wasn’t the wife of one of his most loyal high lords, I suspected she’d soon join Horcrest in a similar fate.
With a grumble, he flicked his finger, allowing her tobreathe once more. Air jerked in and out of her chest, and she did all she could to remain seated. Madrood wasn’t here to turn her into a pile of ashes, but Ivenrail had other ways of dealing with unruly fae.
Ah,my fury said, and I couldn’t tell what she thought of this public display of my power.
Normally, I prefer to take care of matters like this in a more private manner.It was more that I didn’t like revealing something like this to her. I’d never spared anyone else.But this will do almost as well. I do apologize if you find this unsettling.
You saw me kill how many dregs?
More than I wanted to count. I was proud of her skill with a sword, but I wanted to wrap her in flooferdar blankets and lock her up in a place where nothing and no one could harm her. That world didn’t exist for us. Not yet. Maybe never.
I wanted to protect her from everything, an impossible task here at Bledmire. Not anywhere within faerie or beyond, actually.
I showed you this on purpose,I said, not breathing as I waited to hear what she’d say.
I didn’t want her thanks, though I’d acknowledged it for each and every person I killed to make her safer.
I wanted her acceptance.
She knew the king wasn’t the only person here who’d have to die. I wouldn’t be the one dealing the final blow. If she was going to come out of this with her sanity, she needed to accept that she’d bear new scars.
Death should never be welcome,she said.
In my role here at Bledmire, it often is.
They tried but did not harm me. Many would say those three didn’t deserve to die.
I don’t agree,I said.
I can’t either, not after today, but . . .
She still hesitated, which was why I knew she wasn’t ready. This was the reason I hesitated pushing her to end this. I’d told her we were waiting for the king to claim Brenna, that he’d be at his weakest point right after, but the truth was,wewere too weak right now to deal the final blow. Not because my fury wasn’t strong enough to wield the blade but because I wasn’t confident she had the inner strength needed to do so.
And I hated that I had to harden her still, force her into this role that only she was capable of assuming.
Some say death is inevitable,she said.Half the time, I’m surprised I’m still alive.
I’d kept her alive. I’d done so from the moment I realized she existed, that she’d survived long enough to start down the path I’d place her on. We had too little time. Soon, I’d take everything from her and shove her onto the next step of my plan whether she was ready or not. I wanted to wait for her to get there on her own, but I couldn’t.
I’d sacrifice myself if I thought it would make a difference, but I’d never sacrifice her.
All I could do was guide her and hope she’d be ready when the time arrived.
Death is an unwelcome visitor and inescapable here.I was death.It’s indifferent.
You’re not indifferent.
