“I’m better.”
“The Tower . . .”
“Even if he empties the Tower and brings every Redeemer knight to this house, I will cut them down and take his head. He will never touch you.”
“Because you’re the Sleepless Duke.”
“That’s one reason.”
I believed him.
“I’m ready for the lanterns to be off now.”
He got up and blew the lamps out. I watched him settle back into the chair in the gloom, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.
CHAPTER28
PLANTER26
Iopened my eyes.
Golden sunshine flooded the room, painting the walls with bright happy light. Someone must’ve opened the window in the study, because I could hear the birds singing their hearts out in the branches of the wine tree.
I turned my head. Everard met my eyes. He was still in the chair.
“Did you stay here all night?”
“I did.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“How’s the pain?”
I raised my arm, trying to test my body. My joints creaked like an old door.
“Tolerable.”
“I’m relieved.” He rose. “I will give you some privacy.”
He left and shut the door behind him.
My bed was empty except for me. Sushi must’ve gone out.
I sprawled on my sheets and stared at the ceiling.
I started yesterday with beautiful hair, an amazing dress, horrible shoes, and high hopes. I met a handsome knight and delivered a warning. I won an audience with a merchant princess of scandalous birth and started a trade war of succession. I ruined the plans of the Lord Commander of the Redeemer Knights, who was clearly up to no good, and obtained a magical creature.
And then I was abducted, stabbed, tortured, and killed.
I died, came back to life, and defaced my killer in the most literal sense of the word. I was rescued and bathed, and then I was carried gently by the Sleepless Duke, who sat by my bedside all night and was probably nursing a raging backache.
Zero out of ten stars. Would not recommend.
I’d murdered my second person in three weeks.
The memory of cracking the Butcher’s skull was fresh. The visuals were a bit fuzzy, but I remembered the sound of his bones breaking, the wet splats, and the stench of the blood . . .
I’d killed the Butcher. I’d saved myself, but there had been so much pain. The horror of what I’d endured had been too raw. When I thought back to it, I felt trapped. I had probably not been altogether sane in that moment. I should’ve killed him and escaped, but instead I had stayed, locked into the endless cycle of smashing that mace into his face. I wasn’t even sure how long I had stood there, beating a dead man.
