“What happened.” The question isn’t a question, so much as a demand.
“I would recommend watching how you speak to your queen.” Asmo’s voice slithers through the room.
Etta turns her cold gaze to Asmo. “I’m speaking to my sister.”
Asmo takes a step toward Etta. “And my mate.”
Etta doesn’t back down. “My. Sister.”
I open my mouth to speak for myself, but Asmo looks down at her like she’s something that flaked off his boot. “Your family threw heraside until you died and the kingdom needed her. Don’t speak to me about how she’sfamily.You barely know her. And she is your High Queen. Treat her as such.”
Etta’s stance falters, but she recovers quickly. She turns away from him without another word and looks at me, but her eyes have softened.
Behind her, Asmo explains, “Elle and Marik were both running away from Cora. From what it looked like, he wasn’t forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to do. I called for her and she reached for me, but Marik had already begun the funnel.” He shakes his head—confusion or frustration, I can’t tell—and unfastens the hidden weapon holsters along his chest and thighs. “I think Marik was trying to get her out. They disappeared from the ballroom, after…kissing.”
Etta’s eyebrows shoot up. “Kissing?”
“If I know my brother, it was a ruse. Everything he does is calculated. It looked like he led her from the ballroom to get her alone.”
Etta rubs her temples as she mulls over the news. Asmo and I finish racking our weapons in silence, the weight of tonight hanging between us heavily. Our first act as High King and Queen, a failure. The training room door opens. The rest of the rescue team enters the room, the silence feeling like a tangible thing, the only sounds those of buckles and holsters being removed and weapons being racked.
Holly and Ivan won’t meet my gaze.
Escaping the witches was easier than I thought it would be, but we didn’t make it out entirely unscathed. Several Lower House members were caught by bursts of dark magic, but they’ll recover. We downed several witches, groups of hybrids and Fae working in tandem as units. With Marik and Elle taking out the guards to the nearest exit point, we were able to get out quickly and funnel away. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than I expected.
We got lucky this time. They weren’t expecting us. They won’t make that mistake again.
“Take the wounded to the healers. Let’s debrief in the meeting room,” I call, then storm from the training room.
“Princess,” Asmo calls behind me. His hand wraps around my wrist and he whirls me to him.
Months ago, I might have pushed him away. But now, I collapse against him with an exhaustion that feels like it penetrates my bones. My soul. I’ve been so tired for so long. I thought we’d have a win right now. I thought Elle would be back with us. But now, we have no clue where she is and I’ve failed her and I’ve failed my kingdom again and I’m just so, so tired.
Asmo’s arms are anchors that keep me from drifting into my thoughts and drowning. They hold me steady against the riptide of emotions that threaten to pull me under. Even now, the waves rise and threaten to spill in salty tears.
“We’ll get her. I promise,” he mumbles against my forehead.
I allow myself exactly three more deep breaths, then pull myself away, instantly missing the warmth and strength of him. He reaches for me again, intertwining his fingers with mine. He doesn’t let go.
We’re the first ones to arrive to the meeting room, but the others join within moments. Holly, Ivan, and Basil lean against the wall in silence while Amaris paces in front of them. Houses Canis and Ursidae sit in respective groups in quiet discussion. Etta sits by herself, spine straight, hands clasped on the table.
Asmo is the first to speak. His voice comes out calm, but firm. “This is war,” he says, “Let us not forget that. There will be wins and losses. While we did not complete the objective?—”
“We didn’t rescue Elle,” Etta interrupts.
Asmo continues like she never spoke. “We still got valuable information. We all made it out alive. Nobody was injured. We helped facilitate Elle’s escape.”
Amaris’s voice is low as she says, “Please explain how you’ve managed to spin this intohelpingher when you just allowed Marik toescapewith her?” Her tattoos begin to swirl, white lines and circles moving like a lazy hurricane. She glances down at them with a frown.
Holly clears her throat. “Marik and Elle were running, then they ran right into Cora and the witches. We were able to fight them and hold them off to allow Elle and Marik time to escape.” She takes a deep breath and continues. “King Asmo is right—Nobody was gravely injured, and that is a huge success.”
Ivan nods beside her, but the movement is stiff. “We were expecting casualties. Our careful planning helped keep everyone safe. That is a win.”
“And Elle is out of Cora’s hands,” August adds.
Amaris’s gaze turns as sharp as one of the many daggers still on her person. “I agree with Princess Etta. She may be away from Cora, but she’s now with Cora’s lover. Let us not forget she’sstillin enemy hands and worse yet, we now have no way of knowing where she is.”
I wish I could sink into the floor and disappear at the reminder. I dig my nails into my palm, hating that I feel the need for pain right now to distract myself and hold it together.
