The image of the last time I’d seen him flashed through my mind. I remembered how the rain struck the stained panes of my beloved library with more force than a stonemason’s hammer. The smirk growing in the gloom – he ensured he’d stood in the darkest corner of the library – as he shoved a letter into my shaking hands. The cursive script had been too small for my struggling eyes. The pat on my shoulder after I slumped to my knees once he’d read out the contents. The amused lilt to his tone when he informed me I’d been personally selected as the Drufaeran Tribute. My hands gripping my dress, desperate for air, as I realised I’d pushed the regent too far in my pleas to ensure he shared the results of my research with The Alliance. I’ve regretted not punching him in his perfectly smug face ever since. Depending on the purpose of his visit I might still do it. I haven’t anything left to lose.
One of the Holy Sisters of Evella fetched him a pot of tea, pouring it into the solitary grey porcelain cup. He looked up, a frown marring his tanned forehead as he took me in. For a few heartbeats, I held his cold stare. He looked just as he had the night he’d told me I was to be his sacrifice. Dark hair, tinged with grey at his temples, slicked back with not a single strand out of place. He ran his long fingers over his trim beard. Although it was too dark to make out the colour, a shiver ran through me as his grey eyes narrowed. If it weren’t for the frantic tapping on thetable with his long fingers, the king would resemble the epitome of a relaxed royal he set out to portray.
‘Sorrow!’
I forced a weak smile onto my face as Enfys entered my eyeline; she grasped my hand. Her other hand clenched a pendant. One I suspected to be the silver-branched tree, the symbol of Evella; Mama had worn one too. It must have been five, six years since Enfys and I had last seen each other.
‘Enfys.’ I stood back, blinking. ‘You’ve…you’ve grown.’ A choke caught in my throat as she came into shivery focus. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if it was Mama standing before me. Her unbound hair shone like a wheatsheaf on a summer’s evening, exactly the same shade as Mama’s, whereas mine was as dark as the shadows biting the corners of my vision. Her deep blue eyes met my brown. Though we both shared tanned skin, hers was a shade darker, speaking of a woman who’d been outside riding horses, I noted enviously. The weak candlelight flickered and I scanned her cheeks, unable to see if she still bore the scars from that Gods awful day. Avoiding her eyes, I held her hands out, admiring how her satin emerald gown, with its full skirts and gilt embroidered bodice, seemed so out of place within the slate gloom of the Tower. My cheeks warmed at the thought of the simple grey dress covering my own form. ‘It’s so good to see you.’
‘How very ironic.’
We froze. Romero’s bored tone broke through our tense reunion. Dropping my hand, Enfys moved to the side, head bowed.
I tilted my jaw as I met the cold glare of the man who’d brought me to this damned place.
A growl rumbled through Pablo, irate enough to shock me back into myself, and I tugged on his fur, a reminder to the wolf that Romero could easily kill him too. The king raised his darkbrow, and I dropped into the expected curtsey, praying he’d miss my clenched fists.
‘My liege.’ I swallowed, waiting for the instruction to rise, praying this time Pablo would behave.
‘I’ve been waiting here for almost an hour, sweet Sorrow.’
My head remained bowed as he placed the cup back onto the saucer with a soft clatter, leaving me crouched. A huff forced its way out of my tight lips. I closed my eyes, despising this man and how my entire existence depended on pandering to him. The swish of rich fabric told me he’d stood.
‘Am I notKingRomero? The most powerful, and therefore busy, regent on Shuteran soil? Have you been gone for so long, you’ve simply forgotten I have many pressing demands upon my time? Well?’
I took a moment to organise my thoughts, resisting the urge to throw the teapot at his head. ‘Apologies, my liege. I was…exploring the tunnels of the Tower. Had I known you intended to visit I’d have been here awaiting you.’
‘See, Father.’ Enfys’s voice chimed in, and I fought the urge to glance at her, forcing my head lower. ‘I knew Sorrow would never insult you.’
I frowned. Since when did Enfys stand up to her father on my behalf?
Shoes, so polished I almost saw my reflection, came to a rest before me. ‘Rise.’
Obeying, I stood. Romero held his thin lips in a tight line. The king tilted his head. The ice in his searching gaze forced a shiver through me. I could have sworn the corner of his mouth tugged up.
‘I’m afraid, my sweetest Sorrow, you shan’t be our Tribute after all.’
Gasping, I closed my eyes and offered a silent prayer to Evella. Despite knowing how it would annoy him, a smile split my face as our gazes met.
‘Such a shame,’ Smythe said from the doorway. ‘She was really looking forward to it, too.’
I earned a blessed moment of reprieve as the king narrowed his eyes at the guard. ‘Believe me,’ he said, his voice laced with sincerity, ‘no one regrets the sudden change of circumstances more than myself. However, I’ve secured a more…suitable Tribute. Onetrulyworthy of Vyrus.’
A stab split my heart as I thought of the poor soul who’d be taking my place, before images of the library swam through my mind. Gods, what if his intentions were darker? Would he take me back to his keep? What if he’d learned the truth and wanted me tested for hidden gifts? The only place I’d truly be safe was back among the towering shelves, groaning with history and fables.
‘When I return to the library, I’ll work harder. I’ll get a whole collection of assistants.’ My words flew out in a jumble. ‘I swear, my liege. We’ll have answers soon. I’d made such headway in our search for the Vyrium sites before I came here. I’m so close. I’ll?—’
The king laughed, the hollow sound cutting me off. I raised my chin, steadied each harried breath. His hands slipped into the pockets of his coat as he took a step back. Swallowing, I searched for Enfys, but she’d receded back to the shadows, her expression lost.
Realising my mouth hung open, I snapped it shut, steeling my spine.
‘Oh, my sweet Sorrow.’ I bristled at his tone. ‘The library isn’t for you, is it?’
‘But…’
The king raised his manicured brow, and I bit down my retort. The man was not to be interrupted. A lesson I’d learned many times during my childhood.
‘You were given every opportunity to prove you had some worth to my crown, but you squandered it.’
